Chapter 3: The Burden of Becoming

R aj pushed open the creaky door to his dorm room, the familiar scent of old books and faint hum of fluorescent lights enveloping him like a comforting blanket. The room was a cramped, cluttered space, a reflection of his own mind, which was a whirlwind of confusion and shock. He had always been a creature of habit, his life a predictable routine of lectures, lab work, and late-night study sessions. But today, everything had changed.

He closed the door behind him, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. He leaned against the door, his breath coming in short gasps, as he tried to process the events of the day.

The experiment, the sudden and inexplicable change in his body, and the shocked expressions on his peers’ faces - it was all too much. He felt like he was trapped in a bad dream, one from which he couldn’t wake up.

His eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar sights: the single bed pushed against one wall, the desk and chair tucked into the corner, the small closet in the opposite corner. Everything was just as he had left it that morning, and yet, everything felt different. He was different.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and walked over to his desk. He needed to distract himself, to focus on something - anything - other than the elephant in the room.

Or rather, the elephant in his pants. He opened his laptop, the screen flickering to life with a soft hum. He navigated to his email, scanning the list of unread messages. There were a few from professors, a couple from friends, and one from a local news outlet. He clicked on it, his eyes widening as he read the subject line: “Exclusive: Rashtra Deep University Student’s Shocking Transformation.”

He felt a chill run down his spine as he began to read the article. It was a sensational piece, filled with speculation and half-truths.

They had somehow found out about his ... condition, and they were splashing it all over the internet. He felt a surge of anger mixed with embarrassment. How could they? He hadn’t even told his closest friends yet. He slammed the laptop shut, his heart pounding again, this time with anger.

He paced around the room, his mind racing. He needed to talk to someone, to confide in someone he trusted. But who? He couldn’t go to his friends, not yet. They would look at him differently, treat him differently. He didn’t want that. He wanted things to stay normal, at least for a little while longer.

He needed to figure out what to do, how to navigate this new reality. He couldn’t just ignore it, but he also couldn’t rush into anything. He needed time to think, to process.

He sat down on his bed, his eyes fixed on the wall. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the fluorescent lights. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise, trying to block out everything. He needed to clear his mind, to focus.

He thought about the experiment, about the sudden change in his body. He remembered the shock on his peers’ faces, the whispered conversations, the stares.

He had always been shy, but this was different. This was ... embarrassing. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. He had always been the quiet one, the one who preferred books to people, the one who blended into the background. But now, he couldn’t hide. He couldn’t just be Raj, the quiet student. He was Raj, the student with the ... condition.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He needed to think, to come up with a plan. He couldn’t just hide in his room forever. He needed to face this, to figure out how to deal with it. He needed to talk to someone, but who?

His friends were out of the question. He couldn’t face their stares, their whispers, and their pity. He needed someone who would listen, who would understand. His mind flashed to Dr. Singh, his mentor and the lead researcher on the project. She was stern, yes, but fair. She had always been kind to him, always encouraged his curiosity and passion for science. Maybe she could help. Maybe she could explain what had happened to him.

Raj picked up his phone, his fingers hesitating over the keypad. He took a deep breath, then dialed Dr. Singh’s number. It rang twice before she picked up, her voice brisk and professional.

“Dr. Singh speaking.”

“H-hello, Dr. Singh,” Raj stammered, his heart pounding in his chest. “It’s Raj. From the lab.”

There was a pause, and Raj could almost hear the cogs in her mind turning. “Raj, what a surprise. How can I help you?”

Raj took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “I ... I need to talk to you. About the experiment. About what happened to me?”

Another pause, this one longer. Then, “I see. Well, I’m in my office now. Come by whenever you’re ready.”

Raj nodded, even though she couldn’t see him.

“I’ll be there soon.”

He hung up the phone, his heart still pounding in his chest. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He needed to get to Dr. Singh’s office, to talk to her about what had happened. He needed answers, explanations, anything that could help him make sense of this new reality.

He stood up from his bed, his eyes scanning the room one last time. He grabbed his backpack, stuffing it with a few books and his laptop. He didn’t know how long he would be gone, and he didn’t want to leave anything important behind.

He zipped up his backpack, his hands shaking slightly as he did so. He took one last look around the room, his eyes lingering on the small closet in the corner. He had always been proud of his ability to keep his room tidy, but now it felt like a futile effort. His life had changed irrevocably, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

He stepped out of his dorm room, the familiar scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights replaced by the bustling sounds of the university corridor. Students rushed past him, their voices a blur of chatter and laughter.

Raj hugged his backpack tighter, feeling like a stranger in his own world. He walked briskly, his eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding the curious glances and whispered conversations that seemed to follow him. He could feel the weight of their stares, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. He quickened his pace, his heart pounding in his chest.

The university campus was a sprawling maze of concrete and greenery, but Raj navigated it with ease. He had spent countless hours walking these paths, lost in thought, his nose buried in a book. But today, everything felt different. The familiar sights and sounds of the campus seemed alien, as if he was seeing them for the first time.

The vibrant green of the trees, the chatter of students, the smell of freshly cut grass - it all felt distant, like a dream. He could feel the eyes of his peers on him, their whispers echoing in his mind. He tried to ignore them, to focus on the task at hand.

He turned a corner, the path leading him towards the Science Building. The building loomed large and imposing, a stark contrast to the more inviting structures of the arts and humanities departments.

Raj took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. He pushed open the heavy glass door, the automatic locks clicking into place behind him with a finality that echoed his resolve.

The lobby was a cavernous space, filled with the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant murmur of voices. Raj scanned the area, his eyes landing on the reception desk. A young woman sat behind it, her head bent over a stack of papers. She looked up as he approached, her eyes meeting his with a polite smile.

“Good afternoon,” she said, her voice warm and friendly. “How can I help you?”

Raj swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I’m here to see Dr. Singh,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

The receptionist’s smile never wavered. “Dr. Singh is expecting you. She’s in her office on the third floor. Take the elevator to the third floor and then follow the signs to her office.”

Raj nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned away from the reception desk, his eyes scanning the lobby for the elevator. He spotted it in the corner, its doors open, waiting for him. He walked towards it, his steps echoing in the vast space.

As he stepped into the elevator, he could feel the weight of the receptionist’s gaze on him.

He pressed the button for the third floor, the doors sliding shut with a soft ping. The elevator began to ascend, the hum of the machinery filling the small space. Raj leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on the floor, his mind racing.

He thought about the experiment, about the moment when everything had changed. He had been in the lab, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of scientific research. The hum of the machines, the beep of the computers, and the soft murmur of his colleagues’ voices - it had all been so normal, so routine.

But then, the injection. A sudden, sharp prick in his arm, and then ... nothing. At least, not at first.

He had felt fine, a little drowsy maybe, but nothing out of the ordinary. He had gone about his day, assisting Dr. Singh with her research, running errands for the lab, all while the strange concoction they had injected him with coursed through his veins.

It wasn’t until later, when he was back in his dorm room, that he noticed something was different. He had excused himself from the lab, citing a sudden headache, and had made his way back to the sanctuary of his room. He had collapsed onto his bed, his mind racing, trying to make sense of the day’s events.

And then, he had felt it.

A strange, unfamiliar pressure, a sensation that was both uncomfortable and ... Intriguing. He had hesitated, then reached down, his fingers tentatively exploring the source of the discomfort. And that’s when he had realized, with a shock that had sent his heart racing, that something was very, very wrong.

His hands had trembled as he unbuttoned his jeans, his breath coming in short gasps as he prepared to face the truth. And there it was, staring back at him, a grotesque parody of its former self. It was ... enormous.

It was as if it had a life of its own, throbbing and pulsating, a grotesque parody of its former self. Raj stared at it in disbelief, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. He felt a wave of panic rise within him, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He quickly buttoned up his jeans, his hands shaking, as if hiding it from view could somehow make it disappear. He needed to think, to understand what had happened to him. He grabbed his phone, his fingers hesitating over the keypad. He thought about calling Dr. Singh, but hesitated. What would he say?

How would he explain this ... this monstrosity? He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word ‘penis’ in his mind, let alone out loud. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him as he thought about the implications of his condition. He couldn’t go to the bathroom, couldn’t shower, and couldn’t even sit down without feeling a strange, uncomfortable pressure. He was a prisoner in his own body, trapped in a nightmare that felt all too real.

He paced around the room, his mind racing, trying to come up with a solution.

He couldn’t just ignore this, couldn’t just pretend it wasn’t happening. He needed to talk to someone, someone who could help him understand what had happened. He thought about his friends, about the looks of shock and pity on their faces when they saw him. He couldn’t face that, not yet. He needed Dr. Singh.

He picked up his phone, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He dialed Dr. Singh’s number, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her to pick up.

“Dr. Singh speaking,” she said, her voice brisk and professional.

Raj took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice.

“Dr. Singh, it’s Raj. I’m in the elevator, on my way to your office,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

There was a pause before Dr. Singh responded, her voice filled with concern. “Raj, what’s wrong? You sound ... upset.”

Raj hesitated, not wanting to say too much over the phone. I can’t talk about it here. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting,” she said, her voice softening. The elevator doors pinged open, revealing the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway of the third floor.

Raj stepped out, his heart still pounding in his chest. He could see Dr. Singh’s office at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead, and walked towards it.

As he pushed open the door, he found Dr. Singh sitting behind her desk, her eyes fixed on him with a look of concern. She was a tall, imposing woman, her silver hair pulled back into a tight bun, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She was known for her no-nonsense attitude and her unwavering dedication to her work, but Raj had always found her to be fair and kind.

Today, however, she looked tired, her usually sharp eyes clouded with worry. She stood up as he entered, her chair screeching against the linoleum floor.

“Raj, come in,” she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. “Tell me what’s been happening.”

Raj hesitated, his eyes darting around the room, taking in the familiar sights: the towering bookshelves filled with scientific journals, the whiteboard covered in complex equations, the desk strewn with papers and empty coffee cups. He took a deep breath, his heart still pounding, and sat down.

He could feel Dr. Singh’s eyes on him, waiting, concerned. He fidgeted with the zipper of his backpack, his mind racing, trying to find the right words. How could he explain this? How could he tell her about the sudden, inexplicable change in his body?

“Raj,” she prompted gently, her voice softening. “You can talk to me. What’s been happening?”

He took another deep breath, his eyes fixed on the floor. I don’t know how to say this, Dr. Singh. It’s ... it’s about the experiment.”

He saw her stiffen, her eyes narrowing slightly. “The experiment?

What about it?” Dr. Singh asked, her voice sharp and direct. She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes fixed on Raj, her expression unreadable. He could feel the weight of her gaze, the intensity of her scrutiny. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. I think something went wrong,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Singh’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes widening in surprise. “What do you mean, ‘something went wrong’?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.