Project Twelve

Chapter Six

Salem opened the drawer and took out a bundle of cords and a metal shell that encased an explosive. He rigged it up to match the rest of the explosives he had scattered along the desk. They were small and compact yet they could destroy the entire building if activated at the wrong time. He had worked on the bombs for the days his father was sick and the time that Atticus spent visiting Basil. At the sound of footsteps Salem popped the small round figures into his mouth, and he ran. He ran down the dark hallway and down the winding staircase that led to the basement of the facility. He found the boiler room and spat out the four tiny circular bombs into the palms of his hands. He turned, staring dead at the figure in front of him. "Salem." Russel said his sons name with rage. He quickly placed the bombs around the boiler, making sure to activate each one before running back up the old staircase. He ran all the way to the door of the facility and pushed with all his strength. He managed to open it just a bit, enough to slip through before shutting it tightly again. Russel met him at the door, trying to push it open. Salem used all of his strength to hold the door. The sun made his eyes burn and he suddenly had a headache. The ground felt odd on his feet, and he suddenly noticed the pressure on his small arms from holding the door closed. "Salem, you'll regret this for the rest of your immortal life. Your mother, she is alive. She faked her death- She-" Russel was cut off by the explosion. "Fuck." Was all Salem could manage. He heard the screams of millions of innocent people inside, yet he felt no remorse whatsoever. In his eyes they deserved it, especially his father.

   After the fire went out and the lab was in ruin, Salem wandered to the end of the driveway. decided to find refuge in the back of a small pizza restaurant. He opened the door just enough to fit through and entered the back office of the store. It smelled like something he'd never even heard of, a warm meal. The thought of food made his stomach turn. He looked around the room to find another person sitting on the desk. "Who the hell are you?" The man asked. "Twel- No, Salem. That's my name." He replied. "Weird, but okay. I'm Malachi." The man told him. "Malachi.." Salem studied his face, his dull grayish eyes stared back at him endlessly. He was tall, much taller than Salem, and he had shoulder length choppy brown hair. "Hey, you're staring. You gonna say something?" Malachi asked, taking a bite of the cheese and pepperoni pizza he had taken from the kitchen. "Sorry.. What is that you're eating? It smells." Salem asked him. "What, you've never heard of pizza before? Who are you, and what the hell are you wearing?" He jumped down from the desk and studied the smaller boy. "This is my uniform? Where's yours?" Malachi grabbed at the collar fastened to Salem's neck. He felt along the prongs before letting go again. "Thats a dog collar." Salem felt along the grooves of the collar. The little letters felt funny under his fingertip. "No, it's not. It was designed for me." "For you? Are you some sort of delinquent?" Malachi asked him, kneeling down to further inspect his face. "A delinquent? No, I came from a lab. It was standard procedure.. I.." "Can it. I'm sick of your voice." Malachi interrupted. "Did you just say you came from a lab? What the hell are you?" He touched the mark on Salem's cheek, feeling the two blue and black wires sticking out from the botched repair to his face. "Don't touch that please." Salem asked. "Why not, does it hurt or something?" Malachi removed his hand. "I can't feel it anymore, it doesn't hurt. But I don't want you to pull anything out, it's fragile." Salem said, running his fingers over the mark. "You're so skinny, what happened?" Malachi said, pulling at Salem's clothes to accentuate his waist. "I told you, I was raised in a lab. I don't need to eat or sleep, or do anything for that matter." Malachi picked him up, harshly shoving his back against the wall. The sound of the metal markers embedded into his back made a horrible scraping noise, and Malachi winced at the sound. "What are you?" He demanded. "Please put me down.. I'm not human, that's all I know." Salem whined. "So you're not human, and you don't need any resources whatsoever? You're perfect, Salem, and now you're mine."

Salem woke up in the chair of the office's desk. His entire body burned and he felt like he couldn't get up without excruciating pain. He looked around the room for Malachi but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, the door opened to expose a new face. It was an older man, and he had a worried expression on his face. "Hello there, I'm not going to hurt you. Can you tell me your name?" "My name is Salem, who are you? He demanded to know. " "I'm William, the owner of this restaurant. Do you have any idea what happened here?" Salem looked at him then down to blood he had spilled on the leather chair. "I apologize for making a mess, but there was someone else here too. I'm not sure where he went, so i'll clean up myself." William just stared at him. He was shocked by his nonchalant expression and attitude. He was completely bloodied but he hadn't a care in the world. "I'm going to take you back to my place and fix you up. Is that alright with you?" Salem nodded in response, and William picked him up with ease.