Chapter Text
The screams of the cells had always been music to his ears.
The distress mixed with pleas made his stomach hurt.
The power he has. The superiority. It’s indescribable.
It’s disgusting to him.
As he walks down the hallway the experiments, his experiments, back away from him, as far as they possibly can. Their faces express terror, tense and ready to attack him.
It’s awful.
His stomach hurts as he walks down the hallway and see the faces of those unfortunate souls marked by terror and panic.
The sound, the echo of his shoes is heard clearly. All of them stood still while he got through the hallway.
When the ballet shoes touch the ground, nothing can be heard.
He continued down the hall, ignoring the pleas from the cages and the echo of his own boots against the floor.
At the end of the hallway, there is an office. Without thinking about it, he sits and continues with his cruelty. He responds to his workers and their reports. He shouts when someone fails, smiles with mockery when someone succeeds. The man in the black suit only wants results, and he’ll do whatever it takes for those dear results.
At the end of the hallway, there is a flower field full of white, red and pink carnations. There, a woman in a white dress and the ballet shoes dances and sings, and she dance and dance and sings and dance and sings. She spins and the air moves her hair and dress, she can only hear the soft breeze and the flowers. She ignores the screams.
At the end of the hallway, there is blood painting the walls. He can only look ahead with shaky breath. The organs were exposed to him to see freely, the expression of terror in that person’s face. He didn’t deserve this. A dead so gruesome and painful. He had a family and friends, loved ones he will never see again. He will never see them again. He can’t avoid leaning against the wall with a trembling body. Now the screams are his.
When he gets out of his office and walks up the hallway, something is different. The experiments now have a different reaction. They are aggressive and wild. They are out for the blood.
The hallway is now hell for the man in the black suit. His own creations now attack him like wild animals. He cannot flee. Now he is the one that screams, he is the one to suffer. His blood is now the one painting the walls.
He never made it to the end of the hallway.
The woman continues to dance. A ballerina she was. The flowers move with her as she dances, a gruesome dance a dead one, while she sings:
"We’ll meet again
Don’t know where, don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again
Some sunny day"
She spins while she sings the same thing repeatedly, she sings it to someone. Never to be heard.
She never made it to the hallway a second time.
His way up the hallway was relatively calm, asides from the trembling body and the few tears that fell from his eyes. But, with a sense of pride, he walks with his head high. If that is what he was, then that is what he will be. Around him the cages were empty and barely cared for, still it was company. He can feel the souls of them at his side, they walk with him. And that falls on his shoulders. The path will be long.
He reaches over the door and opens it.
•
The man in a black suit observes what is in front of him. A syringe with a bright liquid inside. He can’t help but smirk.
Soon – the thought, soon his plan will be ready, everything will fall into place as time moves on.
In his hands, a small jewel, a ring with a sapphire stone as blue as the ocean. He will have to find a stone of a different shade of blue and put it somewhere, hidden at a plane site sounds appealing. He leaves the ring on his desk alongside a picture. He puts that picture upside down with no care. He has to remember to throw away the picture and the ring alongside his, but for now work is more important. That can wait.
Family can wait.