Chapter Text
I stretched myself in my bed as I heard my morning music alarm announcing eight o’clock, meaning the first day of the weekend had started for me. After some minutes to warm up my head, arms, hands, and back, I got up from my bed, ready to take my breakfast and to plan my shopping at the Saturday market to find vegetable, fruits and meat. October of this year was a strange month in terms of weather, but most of the year had been that way. It was a mix of winter, autumn, and spring temperatures and big rains as if Lady Nature was fed up with our stubborn desire to get things warm up or even heated. Well, as long as it was tempered, I wouldn’t mind. Gave me too cold or too hot, and I would likely complain.
However, those thoughts were chased away as I left my room to join the living room and kitchen, and I discovered something unexpected, strange, and concerning. On the table near the items of breakfast stood a big egg. Where did it come from? And how did it find its way into my flat, where everything was closed for the night? So many questions were crossing my mind in this instant.
I cautiously moved toward the table to assess the strange egg. Its shape and colours reminded me of something, but I wasn’t sure what. I touched it gently, not wanting to accidentally crush it. More than ever, its appearance reminded me of something I had seen or watched before.
As I approached the table, my eyes fixed on the strange egg, I couldn't shake off the feeling of familiarity. Its peculiar shape and coloration tugged at my memory, but I couldn't quite place it. Cautiously, I extended my hand, my fingers gently brushing against the smooth surface of the shell. I leaned in closer, scrutinizing every detail, when suddenly—
Crack!
I jerked back, startled by the unexpected sound. My eyes widened as I watched a small fissure appear on the egg's surface.
“Qu’est-ce que… ?”[1] I whispered, frozen in place as the cracks grew larger, spreading like thin veins across the egg.
Heart pounding, I remained rooted to the spot, a mix of vigilance, curiosity, and excitement coursing through me as I realized it was hatching.
The crack expanded, spreading like a spiderweb across the shell. Then, to my utter astonishment, a tiny, four-clawed hand burst through the opening, widening the gap. I gasped, taking an involuntary step back as the creature inside slowly began to free itself.
As the small being emerged with struggle from its former home, I couldn't help but feel the familiarity of the sight growing stronger. And as my memory worked up, a picture flashed in my mind—a scene from a movie I'd seen years ago. My breath caught in my throat as realization dawned.
"Non, cela ne se peut…"[2] I muttered in disbelief, my voice barely above a whisper.
Yet, as the creature finally broke free from its confinement, I found myself staring with stunned eyes at a sight I never thought possible: a baby Indominus rex, stumbling awkwardly on my kitchen table. It was small, pale-skinned, and no larger than a cat. Her shape reminded me in some extent of the T-rex babies from "Walking with Dinosaurs" if they had been albinos, longer arms and some small protuberances and pikes from the head to tail.
As she got free from the egg, her little body trembled and she was struggling to stand on her feet, her claws testing the air and the wooden surface of the table as if searching for stability.
I blinked rapidly, trying to process what I was seeing. My mind reeled, grappling with the impossibility of the situation. A fictional creature from a movie I appreciated, a potentially dangerous predator, especially once adult, was now a living, breathing entity in my flat in Beauvais. I had to be dreaming. It was too much like how I used to picture my little fantasies when going to sleep. Some characters of my favorite stories appearing in my home in mysterious circumstances. That was like a meta joke of a dubious kind.
I was too stunned to even think to check whether it was real. And beyond the shock and the looming implications of what this could mean, I couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy and fondness as I watched the tiny dinosaur take its first wobbly steps. Its innocence and vulnerability in this moment overshadowed any fear I might have felt.
Suddenly, I noticed the baby Indominus rex teetering dangerously close to the edge of the table. Without thinking, I lunged forward, my arms outstretched.
"Attention!"[3] I cried out, my hands wrapping around the small body just as it began to fall. The weight of the creature surprised me—it was heavier than I expected—but I managed to cradle it safely against my chest.
As I held the baby Indominus rex, our eyes met. While it initially fidgeted in my arms to the point I felt her small claws on my pyjama and arms, it stopped as we looked at each other. Its gaze was curious, intelligent, and somehow... trusting. My heart melted a little at the sight.
"Bonjour, toi,"[4] I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the surreal situation.
The baby dinosaur tilted its head, responding to my voice with a soft chirp. In that moment, something inexplicable happened—a connection formed between us. I felt it, a sudden warmth in my chest, an instinctive understanding that this creature now saw me as its protector.
I gently stroked its head, marvelling at the softness of its scales. "Comment es-tu arrivé ici, petit?"[5] I murmured, knowing full well I wouldn't get an answer.
The little baby didn't answered, but seemed to purr to my touch, slightly nippling my fingers as if testing it.
As I stood there, holding this impossible being in my arms, my mind raced once again with questions. How did this happen? What was I going to do? How could I possibly care for a baby Indominus rex in my flat in Beauvais? How was it even possible in the first place?
But as the little dinosaur nuzzled against my chest, seeking warmth and comfort, I knew one thing for certain. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I couldn't abandon this creature. Somehow, against all odds, we were now connected. And feeling her head and snout on my chest was an experience and a feeling so unique, so unexpected and in a manner of speaking, beautiful. Even more as I had never had any pet or never held babies in any circumstances.
"Ne t'inquiète pas," I whispered, gently rocking the baby Indominus rex. "Je vais prendre soin de toi."[6]
I carefully set her down on the floor, allowing her to be able too walk on its own. I marvelled at how small and fragile she seemed compared to the terrifying creature she would one day become. A reminder of how even the biggest things started out with a small step or a small whine.
I knelt beside her, stroking her head with caution. “Tu as faim ?” I asked gently. The little dinosaur let out a soft squeak in response, her gaze following my movements with curiosity.
It wobbled slightly but found its footing, watching me intently as I made my way to the refrigerator. The baby dinosaur followed, its tiny claws clicking against the floor. I could feel how curious it was of the environment around and of me.
I grabbed the chorizo from the fridge, quickly shutting the door to avoid any unexpected exploration by my tiny, inquisitive guest. The last thing I needed was the classical unfortunate gag of the food in the fridge being ransacked. Whether it was a dinosaur or a dog, I couldn't afford myself to create the gag of Snowy looting the restaurant kitchens in Tintin.
The baby Indominus rex chirped softly, stretching on her hind legs in an attempt to see what I was up to. The sight of her curiosity made me chuckle despite the surreal nature of the situation.
"Un moment, petit,"[7] I murmured, taking out a cutting board and knife. As I sliced the chorizo into small pieces, I could feel her gaze fixated on my hands. My mind was already racing—how on earth was I going to care for her in the long run? Her movie version was known to become quite a destructive and psychopatic predator, and I certainly couldn’t let things spiral out of control in my flat in Beauvais. Or even in Beauvais and the world overall.
Not pressure at all. That would be fine, I thought as I tried to assuage myself at the daunting challenge.
With the last piece cut, I crouched down and offered her a few bits in my palm. "Voilà, c’est pour toi."[8] It sniffed cautiously before darting its small head forward, snatching a piece with surprising dexterity. As the small creature ate, I couldn’t help but smile at its appetite.
As I watched the baby Indominus rex devour the last bits of chorizo, a wave of conflicting thoughts washed over me. The creature's obvious enjoyment of the meat was endearing, but it also served as a stark reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.
"T'as l'air d'aimer ça,"[9] I murmured, a small smile playing on my lips despite the gravity of the situation. The little creature seemed content, nibbling on the pieces with delicate precision. But as she ate, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from spiralling.
Feeding it chorizo was fine for now, but I would have to figure out a proper diet for it —something that would help it grow but not too fast. At least, too fast in regard to its hypergrowth.
My mind raced, considering the future logistics and challenge of feeding a growing carnivorous dinosaur in my apartment. This wasn't just about providing enough food; I'd need to ensure a balanced diet to support its growth and health. I shuddered at the thought of what a fully grown Indominus rex could do in the world outside.
The enormity of the situation suddenly hit me full force. Here I was, on a Saturday morning in October 2024, sitting on my kitchen floor with a creature that shouldn't exist outside of fiction. And what if someone found out? Even without considering the issue, once it would be big enough to be noticed by anyone, the risk of the dinosaur being discovered by accident was present and would rise higher with its growth. This was a dinosaur, not just any creature but a fictional genetic hybrid that didn’t belong here—or anywhere, really. There would be a media frenzy, ethical debates, and scientific questions that I couldn’t even begin to answer. Looking at the small creature now, though, I couldn’t bear the thought of turning her over to anyone. The movie version hadn’t turned out well, and if the small creature before me were the same kind of creature, I couldn’t risk it. Despite knowing the potential danger it could pose in the future, I couldn't bring myself to expose it to the world. The memory of her movie counterpart's fate flashed through my mind, and I felt a surge of protectiveness. What if they tried to control it as they did in the film? Or experimenting on it to see whether she was real and to understand how a fictional creature could exist.
I shouldn't consider as it, I thought. But as a "she" if she's from the movie reality.
"Es-tu la même que dans le film ?" I wondered aloud, studying her closely. "Ou peut-être sa sœur ? Ou une autre complètement différente ?"[10]
Shaking my head to clear these unanswerable questions, I focused on a more immediate concern. The baby, who was contentedly licking her claws clean, much to my amusement, now looked up at me expectantly. Her amber, intelligent eyes blinked, and in that moment, she seemed so harmless. For now.
I sighed, shaking my head as I stroked her softly. "T’as besoin d’un nom, vu que tu vis désormais avec moi. Comment pourrais-je t’appeler?"[11] I muttered more to myself than to her, watching her little eyes track my movement.
She chirped again, her voice almost sounding like a question. I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all, and yet deep inside, the thought she was asking me was a touching and tender idea I held on.
As I pondered potential names, I realized I wasn't even certain of her sex, though female seemed most likely based on the movie. I needed something neutral, which would suit her regardless.
Then, a thought came to me as the memories of the numerous night fantasies on such scenarios were brought back to my mind. And among those reminiscences, an old name rose, feeling right and fitting for this impossible creature.
Cautiously, I reached out to stroke her head, still half-expecting her to snap at my fingers again. Her scales were still surprisingly smooth under my touch.
"Carnis," I said softly, testing the name. "Ton nom sera Carnis. Qu'en penses-tu ?"[12]
A part of me scoffed internally at asking a newborn dinosaur's opinion on her name, but I couldn't help it. It felt important to include her, even in this small way. And considering how intelligent and even sentient the adult version in the movie seemed to be, it felt crucial and right to do so.
To my surprise, the small dinosaur reacted to the name. She lifted her head, meeting my gaze with those intelligent eyes as if she were thinking about the meaning. That was cute, amusing, and yet weird to quote the vice-contender of Kamala Harris' ticket. Then, she let out a series of small chirps, almost like she was trying out the sound of her new name. I laughed quietly to myself. Of course, she had no idea what I was saying, but it felt right nonetheless. And it was touching to see her trying to copy me.
"Carnis it is, then," I said, smiling despite the surreal nature of the situation. "Bienvenue chez toi, Carnis."[13]
The baby indominus rex let out another soft chirp, nudging my hand with her snout. I leaned back, watching her settle down on the floor near my feet. As I sat there, a mix of awe and concern filled me. This was only the beginning, and I had no idea what was to come. But for now, in this moment, it was just me and Carnis—two beings trying to figure out how to navigate a world that neither of us quite belonged to.
"On va devoir faire attention, toi et moi," I murmured to her as she was now contentedly nestling against my leg. "Le monde n'est pas prêt pour toi. Mais ne t'inquiète pas, je te protégerai."[14]
With those words, I sealed a promise - to Carnis, to myself, and to the unknown forces that had brought this fictional being into my world. Whatever came next, we would face it together.
[1] “What the…”
[2] “No, it can’t be…”
[3] « Look out ! »
[4] « Hello there. »
[5] “How did you arrive there, small guy?”
[6] “Don’t worry. I’m taking care of you.”
[7] « One moment, little guy. »
[8] “Here, this is for you.”
[9] “You seem to like it.”
[10] “Are you the same as in the movie? Or perhaps her sister? Or entirely something else?”
[11] “You need a name, now you are living with me. How could I call you,”
[12] “Carnis. Your name is Carnis. What do you think?”
[13] « Welcome home, Carnis. »
[14] « We need to be careful, you and I. The world is not ready for you. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”