Evil Is Pink (bxb)

Chapter 17

Tendril didn't have time for this.

He felt his face heating up, his frustration and anger and sorrow and self-hatred reaching a boiling point.

"Get. In."

Tendril watched as Sticks suddenly toppled over, crying pathetically on the ground, curled up in a fetal position. Given how furiously the boy was crying, Tendril would probably have to carry and force the boy into the car himself. His arms throbbed. So did his legs. He was pretty sure something was broken. His body sank deeper into the leather cushion of the driver's seat. A seat that became too comfortable to leave.

"Sticks." He called out one last time. He noticed the fatigue in his voice and came to the conclusion that, if he didn't get out of the car and drag the unresponsive lad into the car himself within the next few seconds, he never will.

So, before he could succumb to his fatigue, he forced himself out of the car. It took all he had to keep his gaze focused on Sticks and not on his...dear friend who lay beside him.

It's all my fault.

If only he knew of Gorgo's second xenos. It was common knowledge that the man had a strength xenos, but since when was he capable of nullifying other xenoses? One would think that, given all the stories and exploits told on how unstoppable Gorgo was, there would be someone who would've mentioned it. Could it be...Gorgo, a Xenosi, managed to implant another xenos into their body?

Impossible.

Maybe his reports were wrong. Maybe Gorgo was just a normal human after all who used implants. A Noxin.

But it didn't matter now. Nothing did.

If only he had known. He could've done something. Could've prepared something. And maybe things would have turned out differently.

Ballsy...you maniac.

He was going to miss her. His only friend. The only person in the world whom he could make laugh with his non-existent humor. A train of memories came hurtling through his mind—all of which he swallowed down with a sigh.

There would be time to mourn later.

He kicked Sticks in the leg. Not too hard, but not exactly in a gentle manner either.

"Get up."

Someone clapped. A slow, almost tedious, clap that soared through the singed air. Tendril snapped towards the figure in the distance, who stepped into the parking lot through the blast door that Sticks had forced open not too long ago.

"Going somewhere?" It was a familiar voice. Once that was old and grainy, rough with age and probably cancer. Tendril gritted his teeth together.

"What the hell?"

Sticks looked up. "D-Doctor...?"

No longer dressed in the usual gray prison garb, Dr. King waved amiably at him, as though they were both friendly acquaintances passing each other by at a park. He was now dressed smartly, sporting a pair of clean leather shoes, black slacks, a dress shirt complete with a red tie and topped off with the same shiny, white lab coat that Mr. Quinn usually wore.

"Who are you calling Doctor? I'm your dad, aren't I? Or have you already forgotten?"

There was something sickly sweet in that attempt to seem paternal that made Tendril wince. Grimacing, he turned to Sticks and was not at all surprised to see his pink companion flushed red and emotional.

"D-Dad...I—!"

Tendril wasn't having it. He glared at the oaf. "How did you get here?"

Dr. King looked at Tendril as though he were stupid. "Oh? What, are you blind?" He gestured to his clothes. "Hmm, maybe in all this excitement, you've forgotten what an Overseer looks like."