memento mori [DNF]

Chapter 13

A day had passed and his leg was finally starting to get better; the wound had stopped dripping blood and pus every time he stood or moved it. George assumed that the salve he found was high quality, but Clay thought it might have something to do with the fact that he was in a false body. Even though it hurt like hell, and it might've killed him if not for the salve, he had never had a long term injury in a false body. He had been stabbed before on missions, but shortly after he would complete the mission and then kill himself. He truthfully didn't know if wounds healed faster, because he had never had them long enough to test it out. Either way, he was thankful that it was feeling better.

George had also loaned Clay another pair of pants since Clay had expressed his embarrassment multiple times about the fact he was now missing one pant leg on his own jeans. The pair that George gave him ended up fitting Clay perfectly as they were slightly too big on George. Other than the jean conversation and hand-off, they had barely talked the past day.

"We need to move the bodies out of here before they start falling apart and smelling up the entire basement." Clay was shocked by George's statement, as he had been trying to force himself to speak with him all day.

"Yeah.."

George had noticed Clay acting distant the past day. He assumed that it was because he had been tortured by that man. Other than the visible cuts, he was unsure of what the man did and what kind of mental implications that had on Clay. However, he wasn't going to force Clay to talk about it and he hadn't offered any information about it. Unbeknownst to George though, this wasn't the case. Clay was struggling, but not over being tortured. Only two days had passed since then, but he couldn't care less. The only thing on his mind was how he was going to kill George. He was planning on waiting another day or two before making his move as he thought his leg would be mostly healed by then.

The morality of the situation was constantly tugging on the edges of his brain, begging to cross his line of thought. If he wasn't working for the doctors, he'd be on George's side as he did save a little girl, but he kept pushing that back as he was already fighting with another one. The other thought being that he liked George. He had never met anyone outside of his family that he actually enjoyed talking to. He was struggling to convince himself that he would be able to kill George when the time came.

"It's night right now so I think we can probably drag them somewhere away from here. Their buddies most likely won't be out right now."

"Okay." Clay stood up and hobbled towards the door. George ran up behind him and offered a hand to help him walk, but Clay pushed his hand away. A truth that Clay was choosing to ignore was that he was scared to get any closer than he already was.

George was hurt by Clay's refusal, but brushed it off. He walked behind Clay until they made it to the door. Clay pushed it open and let out an ungodly smell that began drifting though the hallway.

"Fuck. We should've moved them yesterday." Clay and George both had their hands over their mouths.

"They were most likely still out looking for them yesterday. It wouldn't have been smart." George's words were muffled under his tightly pressed hand.

Without another word spoken, they both moved into the room towards the bodies. The smell got stronger, and the bottom of their shoes became sticky with the bits of flesh that had yet to dry out. Clay opted to grab the man who tortured him and George took the other one. They both grabbed the men by the wrists, Clay only having one to grab on to, and started pulling them towards the door. The bodies were stiff which made it hard to maneuver throughout the corridor. The men were also much larger than Clay and George, so they both had to take several breaks whilst moving up the stairs. The skin on the bones was still soft, which irked George, who was worried about degloving the cold hands he was holding onto. About halfway up the stairs Clay switched to the feet of his man so that he would have two limbs to hold onto.