The Chemist (Book of Sin #4)
Prologue
PROLOGUE
Profile #18
Name: Nicolaus Baasch (a.k.a. The Chemist)
Age: 52
Marital Status: Single
Net Worth: 3.5 Million Euro
Bio:
Scientist.
Narcissist.
Suspected kidnapper.
Unique Identifiers:
Blind in left eye. Missing left finger.
Has a thing for being in control and docile young men.
The large metal door beeped before being pushed open by a man holding a machine gun. The armed guard didn’t make eye contact; he simply held open the door and waited for his employer to make his way through.
Good. It was nice to see that his simpleton guards knew their place. They may have been hired because of their physical strength and ability to follow orders, but the true show of power here was all about intelligence. Knowing what to ingest, what to avoid, and what didn’t mix well with others. This was a place of experimentation. Of making hypotheses, testing out theories, and determining what worked best in which situations.
And of course… there was the other thing. The thing that paid the bills and made sure that his research and advancements could continue for decades to come. This other thing was also the reason that he had men with machine guns guarding the facility. There was too much at stake to just allow anyone to enter or leave… the facility.
Walking down the long corridor, Dr. Nicolaus Baasch ignored every person he passed, not stopping until he came to a door marked “DO NOT ENTER.”
“Evening,” Dr. Baasch muttered, giving the guards a slight nod with his head.
Both men returned his nod before lowering their weapons. The guard on the right of the door punched a code into the keypad, then pushed the door open once he heard the buzzer ring.
Without a word, the doctor walked through the door.
Fluorescent lights and flickering screens welcomed him, as well as a shit ton of electronic equipment, most of which were used for high-definition streaming and surveillance.
He walked to the center of the room, where a man wearing small, thin-framed glasses sat staring at a computer screen.
“How are we looking?” the doctor asked, stopping behind the man and placing a hand on the back of his chair.
“Right on schedule. The subjects are primed and ready to go.”
Perfect. Dr. Baasch didn’t like delays… or problems. He preferred numbers and timetables and everything running problem-free. This was also one of the reasons he quit working at the university years ago. He hated having to work with people and having them make last-minute changes or demands on progress.
“And Subject A?” the doctor asked.
The technician in front of him pressed a few keys on his laptop until a large monitor next to them lit up with the face of a woman in the center.
“Subject A has been given a sample of LX5 and is currently placed in the center of the grid.”
They both watched as a young brunette, no older than twenty-five, struggled to get to her feet. Her hair was messy and fell chaotically over her face. When she managed to finally get both feet under her, she swayed as she concentrated on remaining upright.
“And her vitals?” Tracking his subjects’ vitals was crucial to his little experiment. He needed to know the effects of LX5 on the subjects and any possible side effects that may be present. Also, he didn’t want his subjects to die too quickly. That was never good for business.
“Her heart rate is elevated, which is to be expected. And it appears that her hallucinations have just begun manifesting themselves.” The technician pointed to the woman, who appeared to be swatting her hand at nothing in particular.
The doctor smiled. Right on schedule.
“And Subject B?”
The technician pressed a few more keys before a screen to their left went live, displaying the image of a dark-haired man growling and holding a metal pipe in his hands.
“Subject B was injected with LX3 and appears to be exhibiting the same heightened aggression and paranoia as our previous test subjects. Not sure where he got the pipe from, but it should make for an interesting show.”
Glancing between both screens, the mad scientist marveled at his creations. He had spent the last three years designing his LX series of narcotics and was now busy studying the effects of the drugs on humans. It was all part of the experimental process. First, you theorize, then you design, test and observe the effects. Then you modify and adjust as needed. When this series is perfected, it will change the way we handle fear and paranoia.
Then he nodded toward the large screen hanging at the far side of the room. “And them?” Thick red numbers counted down from sixty.
“Right on schedule.”
Perfect. Everything was going to plan.
“It’s time to begin.”
The doctor waited until the numbers reached zero before pressing the enter button on the technician’s laptop and watched as the horrors began to unfold on the screens.