Chapter 1

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I was typing furiously. The sound of keys being pressed rhythmically formed perfect harmony with the whirl of the centrifuge behind me. On a normal day, this would have gently eased me into the long working hours at the lab but today, the same sound was maddening.

I stretched my arms over my head, cracking the knuckles of my interlocked fingers and let out a sigh of exhaustion. My butt was completely numb having supported my weight on the otherwise cushy chair for 4 hours straight. It was half past eleven and I was still left with the conclusion of my research paper. I have 2 more hours before the deadline. I can do with some coffee. I deserve it.

With this tiny motivational talk and the allure of coffee, I got up from my desk and unlocked the research lab I was currently working in. Despite the fact it was late at night, Mica Labs was alive. It was like a city that never slept; a cell that never died. I could hear my heels clicking over the polished linoleum, adding an extra decibel to the existing cacophony, as I covered the distance from my lab to the coffee machine at the end of the corridor. I couldn't help but stop in my quest to acquire coffee when I heard the characteristic baritone of Professor Hoffman from the adjacent Stem Cells Lab. A veteran in the field of molecular biology, Prof. Hoffman was known more for his style of teaching than his research. As a Nobel Prize awardee, any person in the scientific committee who hadn't attended a lecture by him could only remain shrouded in mystery of how life-changing his talk could be. If that wasn't evidence enough, the completely packed lecture hall at 12 in the night was a testament to his oration and a salute to his knowledge. I smiled slightly as I gazed at the determined young interns, drinking in every word of Prof. Hoffman's talk. Eight years ago, I was that intern, completely mesmerized by him.

A loud thud woke me from my reminiscing as I whipped around to see a bespectacled curly haired boy sprawled on the floor. His glasses were askew, his laces undone but even in that spear-eagled position he somehow still managed to balance the gel cast containing his agarose gel. I rushed to help him, taking care not to touch the gel without gloves.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Dr. Donovan! I was—"

"That's okay, I'm sure you would want a reading of your experiment quickly." I interrupted him while pointing at the gel. What I didn't mention was how thankful I was for his timely fall for I would have definitely stayed rooted outside Prof. Hoffman's lab otherwise. Chastising myself for indulging in this brief discontinuity, I hurried towards the coffee machine, got my fill and almost jogged back to my lab.

Gazing outside the glass windows, I could see how starless the night was. So dark, that I could completely make out my reflection off of the window panes. Fatigue dripped from my eyes, my cornea a web of red veins.

One more hour and I should be done. But somehow my tired expression didn't convince me of the same. As if on cue, the night grew darker if that was possible. The streetlights that illuminated the back alley behind my lab went out, drenching the street in obscurity. My head started pounding, I could hear someone scream; feel them scratch my arms with sharp nails.

Oh god, not again. Not now!

Meredith Donovan knew the next few days will turn out to be morose, to say the least, for she just Saw someone die.

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Had Isaac Newton been alive today, he would have proudly proclaimed the police headquarters in Pudswany town as his home. This had nothing to do with the dozen or more apple trees surrounding the mason red building but because of the fact that it could scientifically act as confirmation to his famous laws, the First Law to be precise.

'An object in rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion, until and unless acted upon by an unbalanced force'

Pudswany was a quaint town, located in close proximity to Rylandgate. A minor crime was never enough to stir the Pudswany police force or create panic amongst people. In fact, a day without a robbery or a mugging would be more worrisome than days with more than one. A brutal killing, however? That would rouse the creature from its slumber and slew the town into action.

Today was going to be one of those days. A day of awakening, thought Meredith as she made her way along the cobbled stone path leading to the rusty iron gate of the Pudswany Police Headquarters. The rusty gate made a harsh grating creak making Meredith grimace slightly.

That's the look they have on their faces, whenever they see me, Meredith pondered over the hostile attitude of the police detectives. It was more than a slight feeling that told her she was unwanted whenever she entered the beige colored reception of the headquarters. Had Meredith been courageous enough to ask, a majority of the detectives would have said yes.

A harbinger of bad news is what she is. An unbalanced force.

Battling the initial apprehension of facing unfriendly people, Meredith entered the reception. She hadn't visited the place in over a year yet it hadn't changed a bit. Seepage lined two of the walls changing the already gloomy beige paint to something that resembled regurgitated vomit. An old vase filled with fake yellow flowers was placed precariously on the ratty reception desk. Behind the desk sat a blonde with painted lips and bright nails.

"Meredith. Long time," she said, pushing her thick spectacles up the bridge of her nose.

"Dottie," Meredith nodded, politely acknowledging her. "Is Detective Harrison in the back?"

"He's busy with a witness. You'll have to wait a while"

"I don't have a while, Dottie. You know that very well. I need to see Detective Harrison as soon as possible. Please, tell him its Meredith."

Dottie was in cahoots with the majority of people at the station who were wary of Meredith. Needless to say, her hand lingered on the intercom longer than it should have. Meredith counted down the seconds, using this brief period to both calm herself and gather courage; courage she'll use to barge into the detective's room should Dottie deny her access.

Not that it was required for the door burst open the very next second and a tall, blue-eyed man stood in the doorway.

"Meredith! I thought I heard your voice. Please tell me this is a casual visit?" Detective Harrison joked but his eyes remained serious.

"I Saw something, Joseph."

She could see the turmoil in his eyes. He was one of the very few who believed in Meredith but ever since that incident his disbelief was growing more than his trust.

"Mer.." he started but couldn't finish for an alarming shriek startled them. 

Oh no. It's too late, Meredith almost cried in exasperation. They ran out of the station to see a woman in hysterics pointing at something that made Meredith throw up immediately. A sight so vile that even the detective was stunned for a few seconds.

Clawed remains of a person were strewn like spaghetti on the cobbled path just outside the rusty iron gate. The station sprung into action as if struck by a massive unbalanced force. 

Isaac Newton would have been a content man. His first law was set in motion.

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