Sunday, August 11, 2013

Job Security

WARNING - This one gets a bit disturbing, guys. Not gonna lie. 
While this piece wasn't inspired by music, this track adds an appropriate ambiance, I think anyway. And beside, this dude is pretty freaking awesome so check him out.    

         Fiure closed the door to the lab gently, exhaling a sunken breath of air. The hearing went as well as to be expected, and with a little more finesse, he could keep his job for a while, if he cared. Which is something to be said about his influence, since one seldom make two mistakes and remain in this company.
                The Board wasn’t happy when they heard Avernus was using illegal technology to enhance the subject, but the members weren’t ultimately opposed to his work. If a media incident happens, they’d just pawn the blame on the doctor, claiming he was working in his own interests. But it’s not as if the project was publicized in the first place.
                His nerves started to catch up with him, he felt light headed, slightly nauseated. But he convinced himself it was because of the situation. As far as he knew, this career was over, and it didn’t bother him one bit. He was warned of this lifestyle, and he paid the price. He would skip the planet as soon as he could. He should expect the doctor would come looking for him after what he did, and there was very little time to spare.
I have enough medical experience, he thought, perhaps I could live in someplace less developed as a doctor, something considerably more moral than this epitome of defilement. Still, it wasn’t all for nothing. The child got away, perhaps not to a better place, but somewhere he had a chance of survival. He glanced at the child’s now empty holding cell, letting out a small sign of relief.
                No, he would detach himself from here, bear the burden of his sins elsewhere, and seek redemption amid his guilty conscious. There were only a few ends to cut here. No one should be allowed the knowledge the doctor had scrawled out in blood on a parchment of flesh.
                He made a few labored steps towards the doctor’s old office, the sinking pit of his stomach suddenly baying out in protest. He felt so tired; he couldn’t remember the last time he was able to sleep. He trudged forward, shakily opening the door.
 But he was not alone. At the massive metallic desk filled with consoles and paper, he saw the ex-doctor sitting quietly, the view screens playing security feeds, reflecting macabre images on his glasses as they hid his eyes.
                “Doctor,” He said, swallowing the lump in his throat in a vain attempt to maintain composure. “I thought you had left yesterday.”
                “No, I have a few hours left before my security access is revoked. I was just collecting a few things before I departed.” He said, his gaze remaining on the console.
                “I see.” A sudden rush of dread caused his nerves to shake. He hadn’t expected the doctor to be back so soon. What the hell was he doing here, he thought. I need to get out of here now. “Then I will leave you alone.”
                Fiure turned to walk away. The doctor may have beaten him to his own work, but it was far more important for Fiure to leave the building unscathed before any sort of repercussions were paid.
                “There is something that completely baffles me.” The doctor interrupted his stride. “I have seen every piece of camera footage involving any interaction between you and the subject. Except for the very last one. It had been redacted. I wonder, why is that?”
                The doctor slowly craned his neck towards Fiure, his features stoic, his intentions unreadable. There was no ire in his voice, which only frightened Fiure more.
                “Wasn’t there a scheduled outage?” Fiure evaded.
                “Yes, there was, as a matter of fact. Which makes this little incident all the more interesting.” He slowly stood up from his seat and began pacing around the desk.
                He knew the doctor was aware of what he was teaching the child, it would have been stupid of him to think otherwise, but the doctor never expressed any sign of concern. It was getting difficult to think clearly. His head was spinning, his heard raced against the mighty presence of some unknown force clutching his organs, threatening to tear them out from his body.
                “I…should go.” Fiure stammered. He needed to get away. Panic was filling every fiber of him.
                “Not feeling well?” The doctor smiled coyly.
                It was becoming increasingly difficult for Fiure to stand. He braced himself on the edge of a work table. His eyes slowly moved to the ceiling, and he noticed the security system lights were disabled. The panic amplified, and he suddenly became aware of a burning sensation on his left hand. He looked down to see a blistering rash the approximate shape of the lab entrance door handle.
                Nytricene; a paralyzing agent, easily absorbed through skin. His eyes widened with horror. His metabolism had given him an advantage against the potency, but he was by no means immune to the effects. He turned around, staring at the doctor in distress.
                “I lied. My clearance was removed upon the instance of my termination.” The doctor polished his glasses on his coat. He remained disturbingly calm, no trace of venom laced within his voice. “I was in a holding cell. They wanted me to report to Extraction, to remove any traces of their precious corporate secrets. The gall of it. No, there is far too much work to undo the damage you have done.”
                The doctor stepped closer to him as he struggled to maintain his footing. Being from a warrior race, Fiure easily towered over the doctor, but he was beyond terrified of the ghoulish creature that approached him.
                His mind was racing amid the chemically induced murk. His strength was draining rapidly, and he had no chance of killing the doctor himself, who was being smart enough to maintain distance from his reach. There was only one other solution to escape.
                He stumbled over to a tool bench, tripping over his useless feet, and plummeting face first onto the tile, emitting pitiful wheezing sounds as his lungs refused to cooperate. The skin of the palms of his hands squeaked as he crawled forward on the sleek surface. He stretched his shaking arms outward, grasping the table legs to pull himself upwards.
                “And where are you going, fallen acolyte?” The doctor patronized, slowly meandering forward to match Fiure’s miserable speed.
                Fiure leaned his torso onto the table, his legs no longer capable of supporting his entire body. He was losing control of his movement. He strained to reach out with numbed hands, clutching feebly at a small rotary saw used for cutting metal and bone. With a heavy grunt, he flicked the switch, the device whirring gleefully at his labored command.
                “What will you accomplish with that, I wonder?” The doctor taunted, rubbing his chin in mocking curiosity, his twisted grin cracking wider.
                Simply dying wasn’t good enough. The doctor had most likely already figured out the key to reanimating the dead. No, he had to make sure to destroy enough of himself to never be brought back.
                The feeling in his arms dwindled. He used his last pit of strength to heft himself up with his elbows, pins and needles stabbing his extremities. He watched the saw on the table, mesmerized by its beckoning shriek. He leaned slightly, aiming his fall. He closed his eyes, taking in a shallow breath; his lungs wouldn’t allow anything more.
                Vausaureth, Fiure pleaded, Mortal Shield, please release me from him. Do as you wish with me.
                He exhaled, releasing the support of his arm, his head landing squarely on the ravenous blade, munching happily on its meal with a sickening series of wailing grinds and rending flesh. His body fell limp instantly, all traces of life vanished, but the saw continued to feast on its bounty of fortune.
                “Interesting. And perceptive.” The doctor tilted his head to the side in curiosity, wiping flecks of blood off of his cheek. He casually strolled over to the power source and unplugged the greedy machine. “But no matter, now you will learn the true meaning of dedicating your life and flesh to your work.”
                He walked over to the mutilated martyr, rubbing his hands in anticipation, his vile grin illuminating the dark laboratory…

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