7
Viktor began the autopsy, meticulously adhering to the protocol.
During the initial inspection of the body, he noted numerous protrusions across the torso and limbs.
On the lateral side of the skull, there were signs of impact with a dull object and a fracture, which had likely caused death.
As far as his official duties were concerned, the findings were clear.
Determining the identity and motives for the murder fell within the scope of the Tribunal agents.
But he wasn’t done. Viktor opened the skull to inspect for brain damage, which confirmed his initial theory, and proceeded to examine the abdomen.
From a criminological perspective, the death of this woman held no interest for him.
However, Mikhail Korovin had mandated that all deceased creatures undergo thorough examinations for malignant formations or other abnormalities.
Viktor viewed Mikhail’s directives as somewhat excessive, especially since they had not encountered another creature with carcinoma since the vampire a few months prior.
Nevertheless, he appreciated the frequent autopsies because they allowed him to indulge his curiosity for the unusual.
Unlike Mikhail, Viktor was not searching for pathological deformities but rather anatomical irregularities – traits that did not disrupt the organism but differentiated it from the other six well-known immortal species.
He was on the lookout for something that might align, even slightly, with the description of the eighth species from the mysterious Journal of C.
Even now, he went over the passage in his mind: The reptilian is a rare immortal species, notable primarily for its dual tongue, utilised similarly to a whip.
What’s particularly fascinating is that the reptilian tongue, akin to a nymph’s claws, a vampire’s teeth, and other species-specific traits, can transform irrespective of the body’s form.
It does not, however, achieve its full length, which, based on my observations, can extend up to six feet in certain individuals.
The texture of the tongue is meaty and slimy to the touch, featuring rugged outgrowths at the tip.
This organ is remarkable for its agility, and a strike from it can inflict considerable damage.
Some specimens even secrete a poison, which they can project at their prey by contorting their tongue into a funnel-like structure.
The corpse on the table lacked such a tongue.
The oral cavity, teeth, and tongue were the very first things Viktor had checked – he always examined them first. Dead immortals’ bodies reverted to their so-called human form, which anatomically was almost indistinguishable from that of humans.
Only a few peculiarities betrayed their species affiliation – the distinct upper gumline and pale digestive tract of vampires, the black colour of the circulatory network of witches, the poisonous glands in the armpits of nymphs, the quadripartite stomach of lycanthropes, the unusual structure of the muscle fibres of manticores, and something Viktor had not seen in a long time, because both living and dead creatures of this species were rare – a real third eye, nestled within the cranial cavity of necromancers.
Additionally, each species always had a residual scent which Viktor, as a lycanthrope, could often detect.
Viktor continued to mentally recount the notes he’d read in the journal.
Another peculiarity of the reptilian is the skin on its face.
It took me a long time to realise many of the individuals of the eighth species have spots on their faces even in their human form.
To cover them up, they hide their faces with something that gives them this exquisite, sinister look.
Having removed the substance on the face of a reptilian I captured, I discovered the skin underneath is very pale with minuscule black dots, unevenly scattered across the cheeks and temples.
The freckles can be found along the reptilian’s body as well, where some creatures have intense spotting, while in others the markings are subtle and hard to detect.
Some reptilians do not have these freckles and do not need to cover the skin on their face…
With time, I found out some reptilians have a certain intolerance to sunlight.
Viktor’s touch on the dead woman’s shoulder was cold even through his glove.
Yet, he could bet this was not a reptilian skin.
To confirm his suspicions, he made an incision in the armpit area, where he found the poisonous gland typical of nymphs.
The toxin, which could be released through their nails, was lethal.
With a long cut along the torso, Viktor opened the abdominal cavity. How could there be an immortal species that had eluded him for over a thousand years? Stranger still, he’d only heard of this species a month ago. Raphael, his mentor, had never mentioned it, yet he’d known everything.
Lately, Viktor thought often of Raphael – far more than he had in the last two hundred years – which was not good.
His mentor was a sacred piece of his past, one that he turned to only when he was in dire need of mental support.
He was afraid the more strength he drew from those memories, the weaker they’d become. Until he drained them.
Viktor pushed thoughts of Raphael aside.
According to the so-called C., the reptilian was ‘a manipulative, evil, and dangerous creature, which was unsurprising given what I learnt about its origins.’ What origins was C.
referring to when the stories claimed that all immortal species, except witches, shared a common ancestor from whose children the other species had branched off?
Given how the journal had come into his adopted daughter’s possession, Viktor had a feeling someone was either trying to help them or mislead them. Alex, on the other hand, was convinced of the journal’s authenticity and often quoted C.
As if that motherfucker is some kind of demi-god …
Sentimental rubbish!
Down!
Viktor hurried to suppress the wolf within him.
The animal was always looking for a chance to emerge, and when his own emotions were volatile, it was almost too easy.
Even more so when he’d been toeing the edge of the Vaka Hara abyss – a state that fully surrendered control to his wolf.
A wolf who, if left to his own devices, would erase every morally good part of Viktor… and then some.
As if sensing the wolf’s attempts to take control, Alex entered the room.
She wore a protective vest down to her knees, rubber boots, and oversized protective glasses.
Her blonde hair was tucked into a medical cap.
“Before you ask, I can’t stand the smell of death seeping into my hair and clothes every time I come here, so I decided to take extra precautions. ”
Viktor had not planned to ask. “You know you don’t need to be here.”
She glanced at the body on the table and frowned. “You’re obsessed, Vik.”
“I’m just doing my job, sugarplum,” he replied, returning to the autopsy of the abdominal cavity.
“Who is this woman?”
“A nymph.”
“What’s her name?”
Viktor examined the empty stomach. “How should I know?”
“What happened to her?”
“Brain trauma.”
“I mean, what led to this trauma?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“How did she end up in the Hospital?”
“I don’t know.” Viktor gazed up from the corpse. “What’s with all the questions? Do you know her?”
Alex looked at him with undisguised disapproval, prompting him to raise his eyebrows.
She indicated the corpse. “I don’t know her , but the Viktor I know would always have been interested in her story. You’ve never treated patients just as work. And actually”—Alex glanced around the room—“this isn’t even your job.”
“Mikhail wants every corpse checked for unusual findings.”
“There are hundreds of healers in the Hospital. Why you?”
“Because he relies on me?” Viktor said, knowing that lately, the trust between him and Mikhail was hanging by a very thin thread and he was doing everything possible to keep it steady else Mikhail realised he was close to Vaka Hara once more.
Alex removed her protective glasses and stared at him. “As I said, I think you’re obsessed with finding evidence of the eighth species.”
Viktor remained silent. Alex was too astute to be deceived.
“Vik, tell me what’s going on with you,” she insisted. “You hardly ever leave the morgue, you barely talk to anyone.”
Her tone made him see her for real. For the last month, he’d been either drowning in corpses in pursuit of evidence for reptilians or engaging in infuriating dialogues with the wolf in his head. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been in the lab with Alex for weeks.
“Please, talk to me, Viktor,” she murmured.
There she was, the little child whose voice penetrated his skin and even made the wolf pause.
Viktor had adopted Alex and her twin brother, Grigor, right after their birth, and since then had shared work, leisure, ideas, and experience with them.
He had taught them many things, and they had given his life meaning.
Through them, he believed, he had somewhat atoned for the sins of his past. If there was anything in this world that could pull him from another fall into Vaka Hara, it was the twins.
Yet he had kept his distance from them. Why?
The wolf growled, sensing a threat. You will always be a monster, fool. I am you, and you are me. We are one!
Viktor dismissed the thought of salvation.
To seek help from the twins meant revealing what was happening to him, and he was ashamed.
Vaka Hara meant weakness. Loss of control.
How could he pretend to be a mentor to them, a role model, when he couldn’t even keep his wolf in check?
How could he expect them to listen to his strict rules, when he struggled himself?
But was the alternative any better? Viktor was still on the edge, yes, but how much longer could he keep control over his wolf?
He knew the fewer provocations he offered the wolf, the easier it was to control. The wolf thrived on aggression, and in the morgue, there was no food for it. Corpses had no emotions. Among them, Viktor felt safe.
“Alex, let’s talk another time. I’m busy,” he rebuffed her, like he did every time he sensed he was about to confess everything.
Her features sharpened. “Viktor, I need to tell you something…”
The way she trailed off made him brace himself – and the wolf.
They were sure now Alex would try to provoke them with one of her quirks.
Like when she’d declared she would join Zacharia’s guards.
Or when she’d decided two weeks ago to enrol in a human university to study medicine.
Both ventures had ended the moment Viktor had given his consent because, for Alex, it mattered more to act against his wishes than with his blessing.
“Mikhail Korovin arrived just now, clinically dead. They’ve got him in the Trauma Bay. Nyavolski’s with him,” she said.
It took a few seconds to process her words. Once he did, Viktor threw the scalpel onto the table and bolted for the door. “Why didn’t you tell me immediately, damn it?!”
He sprinted down the hallway to the nearest lift. The wolf was strumming the most painful strings of his soul, delighted to feed on more suffering before it destroyed him.
Alex ran after him. “Because I was afraid of how you’d react… I wasn’t sure you could handle it. I wanted to make sure you were stable first…”
My God! She probably knew about Vaka Hara. Or at least suspected…
Viktor didn’t wait for the lift, he dashed down the stairs, not giving a damn about the blood and secretions on his dirty clothes, nor about the wolf screaming in his head.
Death, death, death, death, death!
Mikhail was the only creature in the world who knew what Vaka Hara held for Viktor.
What had pushed him into it that first time.
The strength needed to pull him out. What could plunge him back in.
It was a relief to have someone who knew you weren’t insane just because you were insane.
That you hadn’t lost control because you were too weak.
Someone who understood there was a reason for all your madness, but it was too painful to retell.
Time to say goodbye, pup!
Viktor charged through the emergency department corridor until he reached Trauma Bay’s closed doors. A crowd of people blocked the way inside. Viktor rudely pushed anyone unfortunate enough to be there at that moment and burst in.
The room was empty. The floor and couch were covered in a disturbing amount of blood. He returned to the corridor and grabbed an unknown man by the elbow. “What happened to Mikhail?!”
“Viktor, you’re hurting him!” Alex intervened.
He gripped the stranger’s elbow even tighter. “Tell me what happened!”
“He’s alive. They said they’re taking him to surgery.” The man tried to wriggle his elbow free.
He’s alive.
“He’s alive,” Viktor repeated.
“I was sure he was too tough to die from a mere bleed,” Alex attempted to joke. “Are you okay, Viktor?”
He finally released the stranger’s arm. “I’m fine. I’m going to the operating rooms to find out what the hell is going on.”