Chapter 5 #2
I unzip the bag, then grab the hose to spray down the bound man while he continues to whine, drool pooling around the gag. Sure, the man who captured you and threatened to saw off your dick last week before storing you in his morgue is suddenly going to help you escape.
Seriously, where did we even find these guys to begin with? If I remember correctly, this guy ran drugs for us but started skimming funds off the top to pay for his own habit. I’m going to need to talk to Jenn about recruitment. The hiring process for a crime syndicate ought to be better.
But that might take away from the pool of victims…hmm… I’ll think on it.
Tossing the hose away, I walk over to the man—still screaming—and stand over him. He quiets down and looks up at me with his tear-filled eyes, snot dripping from his nose.
“What do you hope to accomplish by screaming like that?”
His eyes widen, shocked at finally being addressed properly. He doesn’t say anything, like he might get a reward for suddenly being quiet.
Sure, if he considers a reward a giant syringe up his dick.
I watch as Bosco crawls down my arm and moves right over the man’s face.
More piercing screams start up and fill the air.
I know Bosco is internally rolling his many eyes.
At least that’s what I would do. Bosco stops when he is right over the man’s eye and turns back to me just to hump the guy’s eyeball.
“Bos, have some class.” I chide. He can do better than a traitor, but he’s a pretty indiscriminate lover.
Grabbing some duct tape, I place it over the man’s mouth just to quiet him down further. The muffled screams are enough for me most of the time. Today is a pretty good day, though Ash would argue with me.
Speaking of the good doctor, Ashton waltzes into the autopsy room—white coat and all— like he owns the damn place.
Which he doesn’t. I checked. It’s technically Anthony’s, but really mine since I am now the heir, and Anthony wouldn’t be caught dead here, but I am for damn sure not going to be the one who tells Ashton.
Ashton is as crazy as I am.
Maybe even worse, since even I think he’s a sadistic bastard most of the time.
Without even giving the man a glance, he casually places the syringe in the patient’s neck and plunges it.
“What are you testing today?” I ask. Not that I really care, but I should be taking notes.
“Muscle deterioration, similar to the last one but tweaked. The formula still eats away at the muscles and rapidly deteriorates them, essentially making the specimen useless,” he states.
I would love to take a peek inside Ashton’s mind and dissect it a bit.
It would be fascinating and honestly, probably terrifying.
The man is even more depraved than I am.
I would love it. “And is this the new formula you’ve been working on?
Because the last one had cells attacking each other, which provoked a response that simulated a scenario where the cells were nearly eating the guy alive from the inside out.
” I ask to confirm what I am working with before I begin.
Not that it hadn’t been interesting to watch the progression of a body eating itself, but he didn’t live long enough for me to truly have any fun.
Ashton gets a savage look in his eyes, “The serum has been improved upon quite a bit, well in theory, we will see how practice goes. It’s fast acting and it is designed to bond with the individual’s DNA within a handful of minutes, manipulating the existing DNA sequencing.
Since the serum bonds to the DNA, the white blood cells won’t reject the serum, which should prolong the deterioration process.
Plus, once it is bonded to the DNA, it becomes undetectable to others.
Over my cold, dead body will anyone be getting easy access to my research. ”
The man’s eyes widen at that, and the sudden smell of piss permeates the air. “Come on, man. I just hosed you down,” I bite out, more than a little annoyed that I have to do it again.
Ashton eyes me. “Try to keep this one alive long enough so I can test my theory.”
I salute him with my middle finger, which is the most I am going to acknowledge his comment.
“I’m serious, Aiden. I need you to focus and be more…precise.”
“Just spit out what you really mean, Ashton,” I grit out.
He steps away and walks over to the biohazard can where he tosses the syringe and a pair of latex gloves.
“You have been getting more…violent…with your kills. Messier and quicker. It is starting to impact my research.” He adjusts the thick black frame of his glasses before jotting down some notes on his clipboard.
Okay, fair. The last few have been a bit dramatic. But that last guy was not my fault; he died of a heart attack while I was trying to show him the spleen I had extracted from him.
To be honest, I am a little jealous of the dead man. I would love to see my spleen, and yes, I can technically live without it, but Brodie forbade me from taking out my own organs years ago. And despite his being gone and my disdain for him, a vow to my brother will never be broken.
“I’ll try my best.” Knowing damn well I am going to do whatever calls to me at the moment. If that means that Ashton doesn’t get his research, then he can wait for the next one. Because there will always be more.
I poke the man’s arm, and he whimpers. Good. The serum seems to be starting to take effect.
Bosco is busy biting the man’s face while I grab my favorite knife.
Gliding the knife through his top layer of skin blasts me with a sense of euphoria. I lift the blade to admire the pattern. It is a collector’s knife with a damascus pattern which gives the appearance of red waves, like they are trying to swallow the steel whole while they steal his lifesource.
Beautiful.