Vol1
U.S.
Washington
Deep White Biotechnology Headquarters
secret emergency center
07:40 AM
Anderson tucked his floppy body into the black lambskin boss chair, turned around behind the walnut table, and met Caroline's face.
"What did you do with that guy... Vincent Sivers...?"
Caroline pulled her cigarette from between her lips and pressed it hard on the ashtray at hand.
Her burnt face was reminiscent of a devil crawling out of hell, and doctors had warned her countless times about her addiction to cigarettes and alcohol, but she didn't seem to care that much. For example, the ashtray by her hand is now completely filled with the remains of burned-out cigarettes.
The grey soot fell on the smooth tabletop, and Caroline leaned in and pouted them up, right in the direction of Anderson.
Anderson rubbed the center of his eyebrows, he stepped back slightly without a trace, his carefully combed hair looked a little greasy, and the corners of his mouth drooped down, making his expression ugly and hesitant.
Caroline didn't even want to see Anderson's disgusting face, a hypocritical and cowardly man who couldn't even match Vincent's hair - yet he was now sitting in Vincent's place.
Just thinking about this made Caroline feel like she was going crazy.
She lit another cigarette from the pack, forcing herself to calm down and face Anderson.
"Handling? I don't really like your word, Anderson, that's Vincent Sivers, at least equity-wise he still owns the company, so next time you're in front of me you'd better learn not to use 'dispose' The word to modify Vincent."
she says.
"I thought he was a batch-numbered experiment now, and that's not what we're talking about now. I know you still have deep feelings for him, as a matter of fact, so do I, but he has to be' Deal with it. We don't have much time, the Ministry of Defense will send an investigative team at nine o'clock..." Anderson raised his head, frowning at Caroline.
"Vincent Sivers is just sick."
"Get ill?"
Anderson was ultimately irritated by the kind of indifference Caroline displayed.
He stood up and clapped his hands hard on the table.
"Do I need to remind you why we are here now? Because he was 'ill' and gave birth to a first-class experimental accident! More than 170 casualties! Half of the 'Poseidon' system was completely destroyed, and Ninety-four percent of our existing experimental bodies are forced to be destroyed! Caroline, have you ever thought about it, if the gang in the Ministry of Defense finds out that even the top officials of the deep white have been turned into by your bloody mermaid liquid Monster, what will they think?! They will stop the whole project! Not to mention the damage this accident has caused us..."
"so what?"
Caroline spoke suddenly, interrupting Anderson's gaffe roar.
"It's not like we haven't had the same accident, but Vincent is always good at fooling those idiots. Anderson, since you're sitting here, you should work a little harder instead of putting all your energy into it. On flirting with my assistant."
"you-"
Anderson's face turned blood red for a split second, and he was quickly angered by the unabashed sarcasm in Caroline's tone.
Yes, in fact he already had some regrets.
Becoming a deep-white ceo seems to be glorious, but the facts are almost cruel - especially the "Siren Project", as a secret biological weapon experimental program, the darkness it represents is completely different from the normal business activities that Anderson has come into contact with. What is even more annoying is that the plan is now full of loopholes. All kinds of high-level experimental accidents have made Anderson devastated, and hiding these accidents from the government has made him even more frightened.
It was as if he had achieved the throne of the king of hell. Others saw the dazzling light, and only he knew that there was brimstone and fire under his ass.
Anderson stood there, staring at the ugly, alien-like woman in front of him with extremely vicious eyes, his face contorted after a brief silence.
"I don't think our conversations make any sense, Caroline, you're crazy... I don't care, I'll report Vinson's problem to the gang in the Department of Defense truthfully, it's too dangerous, it will Destroyed us all, it should be destroyed!!!" He waved his arms like an enraged orangutan.
"Oh, yes? Then what? And then the whole experiment was called off... Did you forget how much we paid them? Do you really think we could get away with this?"
Caroline leaned closer to Anderson, her eyes rolling behind the crusty skin, and the terrifying appearance made Anderson feel a burst of physical nausea, and the threat in her words irritated Anderson.
"Then I will order the internal destruction of him."
Anderson grabbed Caroline's collar violently. Of course, he shouldn't treat a lady like this, but now Caroline really has no way to make him realize... In his eyes, the man standing in front of him A creature is just a monster.
"You better dare to do that..."
Caroline screamed, and Anderson shuddered at the madness in her eyes.
After a brief stalemate, Anderson tightened the corners of his mouth but loosened Caroline's collar.
…
"So, what the hell do you want to do? Let Vincent continue to stay in the laboratory like this? Damn, I thought you had a good relationship with him..."
"I'll find a way."
"what?"
"I can normalize Vincent," Caroline said, her voice very firm, with a frenzy. "I just need a little time, and I've found a way to fix it all."
Anderson turned his head, and he stared at Caroline, full of disbelief.
"The way you say it is..."
"What we need to do is simple," Caroline grinned, revealing her bright red gums and her teeth that had turned yellow from the drug. "We need to find Rand Sivers..."
Vol2
Kansas, USA
Munster didn't understand what happened in that brief moment.
For the last second it was in a heavenly bliss - although Rand's body tensed involuntarily as it approached, his heartbeat and breathing showed a beautiful and gentle rhythm, and his body radiated The sweetness that came out also fully proved his response to Munster...
However, in the next second, everything changed.
Rand was as cold and stiff as a frosted tombstone.
The sweet smell disappeared, replaced by a bitterness with a metallic smell.
"Rand? What's wrong with you?"
Munster rubbed against Rand uneasily, and stretched out his arms to wrap his arms around his waist, expressing his intimacy as he had been doing before. But this time it was avoided.
Rand and Rogers exchanged glances, the expressions on their faces looking so odd.
Then Rand turned his head, frowning tightly, not knowing what to do with some innocent and sweet little monster.
"I need to go out for a while, Munster."
It took a long time for Rand to speak dryly, his voice becoming extraordinarily hoarse due to nervousness and fright, as if a red-hot stone was stuck in his throat.
"I will go with you!"
Munster said immediately.
It clung to Rand's thighs regardless of Rand's slight struggle, staring pitifully at Rand with watery red eyes, its tail twitching gently on the ground, fully expressing its emotions.
But Rand was completely unmoved this time, and even he seemed so absent-minded. Obviously, there were more important things bothering him.
"Rand, I don't think it fits..."
Rogers said coolly from the side.
"I know." Rand interrupted Rogers, then lowered his head and stared at Munster, taking a deep breath.
He looked at Munster with pain in his eyes—of course, in fact, Rand even felt that his human conscience and compassion were lashing out at his own soul.
"Munster, can I ask you to stay at home? I don't think the place I'm going is going to be suitable for you to be there."
He spoke to Munster with an unconventional tenderness.
If the corpse in Rogers' mouth was really the girl who claimed to be Laisha, then Munster was her murderer.
A murderer of innocent girls—
Under such circumstances, Rand could not do anything to take Munster to identify the body anyway.
It was a great sin, but in the end Rand decided to leave it alone.
…
Under Rand's persuasion, Munster finally stayed at home with extreme reluctance, and Rand forced it to swear that it would never leave the house under any circumstances.
Munster agreed, though the luster on it faded at once.
But even so, it stands out, at least for Rand.
Rand was already in Rogers' car, looking up at the second-floor bedroom window through the car window, where Munster was pressing his face, staring at the car motionless. Rand and its eyes met immediately, and Munster seemed to finally be a little happier. It tapped the glass across the window and waved goodbye to Rand.
"I'll be back soon, Munster."
Rand couldn't help shouting at it.
Vol3
Rogers' cabin was filled with heavy perfumes, and they smelled head-scratching.
Rand sat in the passenger seat, uneasy and uneasy, and it was precisely because of this that Rand did not pay much attention when Rogers drove the car in the opposite direction from Kansas City.
But in the end, the thicker bushes on both sides of the road made him feel something was not right.
He slapped smartly, then snapped back to his senses.
"Is this road really going to Kansas City?" Rand looked at the plants on both sides of the road that were too dense, and the branches and leaves intersected to form a green corridor, and a strong unease slowly rose in his chest.
He smelled some other odors that had been masked under the scent of perfume—fishy and stink, and the carrion-like stench of fermented tissue fluid left on the tool. The tools placed in the trunk jingled against each other.
Rogers turned his head and grinned at him.
"Don't worry, our destination will be here soon."
He says.
"But... we're not going to the police station? Rogers, are you going the wrong way?"
After Rand saw that smile from Rogers, the premonition that something was wrong in his heart became more and more serious.
"Oh, this road is not to the police station, but we didn't go the wrong way."
Rogers said softly in a girlish tone, the smile on his face became deeper and deeper, and when he started to lift his disguise, he laughed like the kind of pervert that only appears in movies and TV dramas, which made Rand feel. Getting creepier.
"I don't know… "
He said, his left hand involuntarily sneaked towards the seat belt button, his throat was dry, but he always wanted to swallow.
Rogers narrowed his eyes.
When Rand was about to press the unlock button of the seat belt.
Rogers slammed out a sixty-centimeter-long pickaxe from the storage compartment under the door, and then without any prompt, he stabbed the awl to Rand in an attempt to untie the seat belt. the hand.
The pickaxe quickly formed a bruise on the back of Rand's hand, and Rand screamed, almost fainting in pain.
And in his screams, Rogers' morbid laughter also followed.
"Be a good boy, Rand, and don't make me angry."
he giggled.
A handkerchief with a bitter smell was pressed hard against Rand's face. The latter was sluggish because of this sudden change. He tried hard to break free, but after a few seconds, he was still defeated by the powerful sleeping pills prepared by Rogers.
"boom… "
Rand's body did not slide to any other position under the restraint of the seat belt. His head hit the window and the center pillar of the car heavily, and a small bruise appeared on his forehead, but at this time he was already Lost all sentience.
Next, Rogers walked with Rand in a coma for another two hours.
They finally arrived at another foothold that Rogers had prepared for himself, a hut on the bare ground.
The entire hut is made of stone and powered by a diesel engine - however, the site has now been turned into a torture chamber very quickly by Rodgers.
He also had a custom-made wooden frame that looked like the one on which Jesus was crucified. When Rand slowly woke up from the coma, he found that his wrists and ankles were tied to the four tops of the cross by rough twine.
The light in the hut was unusually dim, and the only thing Rand's blurred vision could see clearly was Rogers, who was sitting in front of him. He became completely different from the friendly person Rand knew.
It even took a while for Rand to realize very dimly that the man with the perverted and twisted expression was Rogers.
Under Rogers' ass was a tattered wooden crate, and behind him was a soldering iron rod from thick to thin. In the corner of the wall, a torture tool that looked like an iron maiden was very conspicuous. The most striking thing in this dark stone house is an operating bed.
It had rusted railings and conspicuous shackles at the headboard and bedside.
"I got this at Peach Lake Public Prison."
Seeing Rand looking at it, Rogers shrugged his shoulders, he said with a grin.
"It was the first place in the United States to use lethal injection... It was a very early age, in fact, the executions that were carried out there were not so much lethal injections, but human death experiments. There will always be those strange drugs. One way or another, the doctors just messed up the death thing. And so the prisoners wouldn't hurt the doctors because they struggled too hard, the prison used a special operating bed with shackles—oh , Rand, I really like seeing the look on your face right now, it's so beautiful. You're smart, you know what I mean, that's right, I'll greet you with this bed later..."
Rand stared stiffly at the chattering Rogers, completely ignoring Rogers' series of innocuous words.
He just wants to know...
"why?"
he asks.
"Because I love you, Rand, my little brother." Rogers stood up, and then he cupped Rand's face, "and because I hate you... You forgot me, you forgot everything, you forgot Me, Mom and your wonderful little family."
"I really don't understand what you're doing, Rogers? Are you trying to get close to me? For the money? Or are you an anti-white animal activist? What the hell are you trying to do..."
"Shh—" Rogers put his finger on his lips, looking at Rand eagerly, "Don't say something so off-putting, Rand. Yes, I was trying to get close to you, but I was close. You're not for money or anything, I'm approaching you for... you. You're one of my greatest creations."
Rogers smiled and cut Rand's clothes with scissors. He held a bright flashlight close to Rand and shone on his bare skin. After finding that there was nothing on Rand, Rogers suddenly became gloomy.
"Damn, did you ruin my work? Rand... you bad boy..."
He screamed, turned out of control, grabbed a soldering iron, and slammed it hard on Rand's arm.
"Ow..."
Rand shouted uncontrollably, and just now, he clearly heard the sound of a broken forearm bone.
Because of his bound posture, he was completely unable to control the strength of his arm after the fractured forearm, and his weight was pulling on his severed hand, which made him even more painful. In just ten seconds, Rand saw that his arm was swollen and showed a purple color.
Rogers then hit Lander several times with the stick, but luckily this time, he hit him in the stomach.
After venting his anger, he returned to smiling again.
He tipped his head and kissed Rand lightly between the eyebrows.
"You should remember it sooner, so what we're going to do later will be more interesting."
Rand had kept his head down until then, looking as weak as a dead dog. However, when Rogers approached him, he suddenly turned his head, opened his mouth sharply, and bit Rogers' ear.
"Damn—"
Rogers jumped up, and he broke free from Rand and covered his ears.
Blood gushed out from his fingers.
Rand's teeth were dyed red.
"You son of a bitch."
Rogers' face showed crazy anger, he raised his hand and slapped Rand fiercely, just like before, he didn't seem to be able to control his anger, he slapped Rand for a long time, until Rand His face swelled up at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Rand tilted his head slowly, spat out blood, and found his own teeth there. The intense pain made Rand feel a tinnitus, and for a short while he couldn't even feel his face at all, as if his soul had disconnected from his body.
He wanted to curse God in pain, but opened his mouth to find that he couldn't even speak because of the swelling.
On the other hand, Rogers, who was tyrannical like a devil a few seconds ago, changed another face without warning a few seconds later. With tears in his eyes, he took Rand's face back in his hands and whispered to him in a trembling tone.
"Oh, I really don't want to do this to you, my little brother, my Rand... why are you always so bad?"
…
Rand's body shuddered involuntarily.
"My little brother, why do you always behave badly..."
These words suddenly hit the depths of his heart, and a strong sense of fear suddenly rose.
A certain switch left in his soul seemed to be turned on suddenly by this sentence.
"You are… "
Rand raised his head and said with difficulty to Rogers, pursing his lips.
"I'm your brother. Your creator, Rand, remember that poem?" He lowered his voice, staring at the face that had swelled to the point where his features were almost unrecognizable from the previous beating." You are in your prime, but you are sleeping in a tomb, there is a constellation in the palace of death, you will understand that it is looking into us, and whoever betrays will be taken away by the star..."
He read to Rand.
That's... that's the poem that once appeared on Rand's skin... Rand suddenly remembered.