Here Lies a Dark Past: Experiment 39

Chapter one

It was morning, and the sun was shining in James's face from the roof window, even though the rest of the factory was dark. He didn't want to wake up. He felt like he didn't have strength. He looked around the room, and everyone's beds were empty, except M/c's, who was still sad from when Wingo disappeared. He sat up with an aching groan. His back still hurt from the hard work yesterday.

As soon as his paws hit the floor, Margaret ran up to him, and rubbed against his legs. Stupid multi-eyed shadow feline monster, He thought with a growl in his throat before kicking the dark-purple-furred cat. Her yellow and pink glowing eyes looked up at him for a spilt second, and then she darted off.

Morie burst into the room. "JAMES! What the hell was that for?" He shouted, making James's fur stand up straight on the back of his neck.

"What the hell was what for?" He asked.

"You kicked my shadow feline you moron!" Morie huffed, not quite yelling. James could tell Morie was tired and hungover. He must have been up all night again drinking.

"Well Morie, I don't care if she was once in my body, she's your cat, you take care of her, and keep that post-dragon brute out of my sight," James said, looking up at Morie with frustration in his eyes, which were now two simple eyes that no longer glowed with anger.

James didn't bother to put his clothes on, he went down the stairs, still in his blue PJ's that very well matched his long, silky blue hair.

Cleo looked up from the bottom of the stairs. "Hey James," she said with a sassy purr.

"Oh, what the frick do you want?" James hissed, already in a bad mood from being jumped by Morie's drunken yelling.

"Sooo. Experiment 38? How did that go last night?" Cleo asked.

"Failed. I was forced to kill her. I scribbled her out on my wall. I need to find a new victim to put on my wall," he said.

Killing didn't give him that adrenaline drug feeling he always got when he dug a knife in one of his experiment's stomachs. He even started to feel guilty about it. But he knew he was so close to reaching the final goal. More monsters meant more shadow felines, and more shadow felines meant more ingredients. Shadow feline blood was black, and it tasted foul, not like the bitter taste of red blood James used to love.

"I have to head out late tonight and find some more wandering Brindle Bark citizens. I always look in alley ways. I always have my killing partner with me, but tonight, I'm- I'm uh, gonna go alone," he said, spotting Morie over on the couch. The tall, antlerless stag laid on his belly, stone drunk all of a sudden.

"Okay, whatever bud," Cleo said, "but anyways, you're not sad about Count Dracula, are you?"

"Cleo, for the millionth time, his name isn't 'Count Dracula,' it's Wingo Riverdale," James groaned. He just wanted to go to the kitchen and eat, not worry about Cleo flapping to him at 7 in the morning.

"Whatever. He was pretty upset when his shadow feline died. And I think we all didn't need his help."

"Cleo, please. We know you hated Wingo. But when he disappeared, it wasn't good for Project Immortality at all. Blood rates have been going down, all downhill. Somehow, his chill energy was helpful around here." James said, "now move out of the way before I feed you to the shadow felines, idiot."

"Okay, geez, no need to be so hard," Cleo teased. James scoffed.

Opening the fridge, there was nothing there he wanted. All fruit and bread. No use in asking the drunk guy who always gets our food to buy it from the farmer, James thought.