Intoxicate [❌]

8 - Mutation

[Policeman]

The man showed his ID to the two standing at the door, who nodded and allowed him through. He found his way through the yellow caution tape and entered the apartment. More people were around, each wearing the same or similar police uniform while sweeping the living space for any clues. The man bypassed them all, walking not entirely unnoticed but for the most part undisturbed across the room and down a small hallway to another room. More police tape, then the macabre scene that he was informed of.

Through the blood on his face, the man was still recognizable - whoever did this had some sense of self-control, even if very little. Not a complete lunatic (though there was no doubt that the murderer was highly unstable). The corpse lay in a large puddle of blood that the already bloodsoaked carpet couldn't absorb, as did his arm, which lay multiple feet away. His chest cavity was entirely torn open, a sanguinary hole where his heart should have been. The rest of his abdomen looked like it had been torn as well, like claws had been raked across his flesh. Intestines were visible in the gaping hole, but shredded almost completely, a mush of flesh, blood, and tissue. The air inside the room was thick with the smell of rotten decay.

A woman stood in the room already, cascading dark hair falling to her midsection as she simply stared at the corpse. Her arms were crossed, and she seemed emotionless even looking at the mangled body.

The man stood next to her. "Well, when the reports said it was gruesome, they weren't kidding."

The body had been found the day before by someone who had apparently been expected by the victim. They claimed to have no knowledge of what happened to him, and seemed quite unsettled by the sight. He, nor any of the people now at the scene, knew how long he'd been dead.

A shiver went down the man's spine. Was he being watched? He looked around the room, eyes scanning the place for bystanders. No one was there. He shook the feeling off - probably just paranoia.

"Tell me about it," the woman remarked. The nametag on her chest read "K. Arias." "Haven't seen a murder like this since... well, ever."

The man continued staring at the body. He couldn't take his eyes away from it. "What have the DNA tests brought up?"

"The genetic material found was... odd," Arias claimed, "It seemed to be human DNA, but it didn't have the same structure. The nucleotide-base pattern was entirely screwed up. Mutated."

"Mutated, huh?" The policeman said. With his hand he rubbed the stubble on his chin, lips pressed tight as he thought.

Arias stepped forward. "And look at this."

She rolled up the right sleeve of the dead man's shirt. On his wrist, it was revealed that there was some kind of blister mass, lumpy and unnatural. Like that of a broken arrow survivor, but only focused on one small spot. The policeman knelt down next to Arias, observing the abnormality closely.

"What happened here?" the man asked, not to anyone in particular.

"This is the aftermath of some form of radiation poisoning," Arias explained, "But if it had been in the air, it would have been more spread out, and possibly would be all over the city. And it doesn't explain the violent manner of this death."

Mutated DNA. Radiation poisoning. The strange, almost feral attack. The man huffed, unsure. Thinking aloud, he said to himself, "How is this even possible?"

"That I don't know. That I don't know."

-x-

[???]

I lifted the pen from the paper, sticking it back in its cup.

The target's given me new information. Interesting, it is. Their connection, as far as they know, is either accidental or subconscious. And the memory they told me they saw... I did my research. I found the place. It was decimated, the air still too radioactive within the fifty-mile radius for any rebuilding to commence. Which means...

I didn't want to think about that. This... person, if even that, was dangerous. Any second they could destroy this city in the blink of an eye, the beat of a heart. A living ticking time bomb. But something was stopping me from... finishing the job. I don't know what it is.

And yet deep down I did. It was the same reason I accepted this target in the first place.

-x-

[Anatox]

David's dead.

I heard about it yesterday. It was two days ago that I went to see him. From what I could pick up from afar, he's been dead about that long, but they're not certain. Though I am. It couldn't have been longer, and based on the glimpse of his body I got through the window, it's been more than just a few hours.

It wasn't simply his death that troubled me - loss doesn't shake me as it does most. It's the manner of violence and gore that I saw in the place of a man I knew. How it was even possible that someone attacked like this murderer did, or how they did it, I had no idea. Nor could I guess their motivations, unless it was a personal issue I know nothing about.

"Is something wrong?"

I cried out in surprise, turning around in one swift, breakneck motion. My hand instinctively flew to where I always kept a gun in my pocket, my finger a mere half inch from the trigger. Tonix. He was standing behind me with a simple, curious expression that quickly switched to surprise as I turned to face him. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

I sighed. "How did you get in here?"

Tonix shrugged. "The... door?"

I sensed the lie in his tone. How could he be lying? There's no other way for him to get in, right? I took a quick scan of the room without moving my head. No other entrances besides the door he claims to have come from.

Curious.

"What are you... thinking about?" he asked a bit timidly, unnerved by my sudden reaction and aggression.

"N-nothing," I replied hastily, allowing my hand to drop from the grip of my gun.

Tonix tilted his head. "Your muttering said otherwise."

Crap, was I muttering? I huffed. "It's none of your business."

"Who's David?"

"I said it's none of your business!"

"It's a simple question, Ana."

The name triggered a sudden spike in my temper, and suddenly I held the gun barrel to Tonix's forehead. He didn't move.

"Never call me that again," I hissed, teeth clenched and muscles tense.

Tonix's eyes followed my arm up to the gun, his expression blank as his gaze met the weapon. His face gave away that he wanted badly to speak, say something. Like it was right in the back of his throat, but his mouth refused to let it pass.

"Threatening me now?" he finally stated, looking down at me.

"Yes. Yes, I am," I said. But I didn't feel like making a mess today, so I pulled the gun away from him and stuck it barrel-down in my pocket. Biting my lip I sighed. "David was a friend of mine."

"Was?"

"Yeah. He... was killed a day or so ago."

In the corner of my vision, Tonix's gaze darkened. I looked up, but his expression was back to the emotionless, almost bored frown he wore a few seconds ago. God he's acting strange.

But when is he ever not?

"I'm sorry, then," I said, averting my gaze. "That you lost a friend, I mean."

"Don't be," I snapped at him, "You should probably know by now that death doesn't bother me."

Tonix smiled, giving a small chuckle. "Worth a shot."

-x-

this chapter gave Anatox a non-canonical Russian accent

don't question it imma post something in my artbook about it maybe

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