Entry 12. The sample the soldiers brought back was impressive – as were the losses they sustained to get it. Something as small as a fingernail, contains more genetic complexity than entire organisms. Perhaps even ecosystems. The skin, what I presume to be skin (or perhaps hide would be more appropriate), it’s ability to regenerate itself is especially of note. Perhaps, I can replicate it.
Entry 25. Experiment 126 and 127 have outlived their predecessors by weeks. Thanks in part to a change in diet. There’s something uniquely monstrous about this thing’s genetics. Something hungry. The previous experiments died, not through incompatibility or cellular rejection; the experiments merely ate themselves, when no other form of sustenance was available for a period of time. Is there a way to get passed this? To circumvent this damn thing’s instincts?
Entry 57. Genitals! That’s the answer. It’s been staring at me every time I dropped by pants to take a piss. Genitals! Replace one instinct with another. Project Hellwolf is finally getting some traction. I can’t wait to tell the boys down at the lab that all we have to do is slap a dick on it.
Entry 69. One got away during a field test. God knows where it is now. Somewhere in the city. The irony of the entry number isn’t lost on me. Really screwed up this time. Oh well. We still have more. I mean, it’s not like the lab is going to blow up in the next few days, right?