PROJECT ELITES

Chapter 3. New Arrival

"Where you found him?" The question leaves my mouth before I can think. It's not in my nature, to be so inquisitive, but this is obviously something else.

"You'd be surprised," the same women gives me a grin, "he surrendered."

He what?!

"Against?" I'm definitely losing my patience now. The air here smells like rotten flesh and horrifying chemicals. One sudden intake of breath is making me sputter.

"Ashley means us," a middle aged man answer this time, "he told us about the misdeeds of Futura on him and hundred others like him. Can you believe they completely want to eradicate the word mercy from our life? Some ideal step for ideal future."

Ignoring his sarcasm I ask. "Is this what he confessed?"

"Not exactly but he was being prepared for it. Look at it." He gently takes the arm of the body and turns it around for me to see the number of fight marks. Some were raw and fresh while others were days old. Knife marks, bullet marks and also electric shocks, which is a surprise to me. We don't have any training with electricity or anything that needs us getting electrocute and speaking of marks, we never have any wound marks. They're healed and removed immediately after the fight.

"His whole body is covered with such marks."

I take his wrist and inspect it closely. It has rope marks. This much is enough for me to understand the whole behind the scenes story. Him surrendering is as fake as Orla's presence in this room. No evidence to prove either.

I drop his hand and walk left towards the other table which has a tray with surgical gloves and other instruments. "And he confessed to?" I ask keeping my curiosity tone away.

"Our director, of course."

I just nod while putting my gloves on. I take out a plastic packet from the tray and tear it to retract a sterile syringe and make my way back towards the table and half rotten body, before I can inject the needle in his arm a voice interrupts me. "I wonder what this feather on his neck means," I look at him sideways, "it doesn't look like a normal tattoo. Too dark and deeply ingrained in his skin. Like marked at birth or something."

Others start giving their voices of approval and alternatives of this birthmark theory but I, the jolt of alarm resonating in my body prevents me from uttering anything, either approving or contradicting. Instead, I focus on extracting his blood in the syringe and emptying it in a vial.

All the information that they need is contained in this small bottle of few mils. Distributing it to others is like handing everyone a bit of all of us.

"Where's Rick?" I ask with my neutral tone. "Shouldn't he be here before me?"

"He's checking by the director's office to see whether the documents are ready to pass."

I look up to the blond man intensely watching me with his green orbs. His perfect gelled hair parted to left, freckles dotting all over his pale face.

"Shouldn't you be the one knowing where he is?" He asks me. His icy confidence is radiating from him which irks me.

"I have better things to take care of than pinpointing someone's location. Not even of Rick's," I stop from restraining myself to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"Alright, Ethan," the middle-aged man cut us in. "Let's come back to him."

"How many people know about him?"

"Him getting dissected? No one besides us and the director. It's highly confidential and we can't release any official statement, not even of having him with us until we get the right information on official papers." I just nod and continue working.

The next hour went by us taking samples of his skin, blood and saliva. I pop up some questions deliberately to engage them in discussion than focusing more on sampling. My patience for Thomas is wearing out. How long taking care of Rick can take?

The metal door open and olive-skinned women march towards us with long confident strides. Her shoulder length hair is pulled up in an old style bun.

We all turn our attention towards her with curiosity. Ethan was the first to speak anything among us.

"Who are you?"

"How you get in?" Ashley backs him.

Ignoring all their questions she marches towards our deviant. Giving me a sideway glance she says, "it's done."

Finally.

I kick Ethan on his sheen, he staggers and stumbles on the ground.

"Dr Orla!" Answering Ashley's shock I yank her hair and collide her head with Ethan's. Both semiconsciously fall on the ground clutching their head. A loud yelp sounds from behind me, I quickly turn around to see one man on his knees holding his stomach and other his head. Thick red bloodline trail along his face, dripping on the shiny white marble slowly. His face constricting in pain.

Looking up I find the girl smirking at me, before I can talk some sense into her someone grabs my neck from behind in a vice grip.

"Not so fast." I recognize Ethan's voice.

I elbow him in his stomach but except for a loud "oomph," his grip remains the same.

Bringing my hands up I hold the back of his head with my palms and curve my back to make him roll over my back and fall on the floor. Immediately, I sit on his back and lock his hands behind his back. He wriggles against my grip, I put more pressure on my lower body forcing him to lay on the ground.

"Now!" My voice is more urgent than intended.

Obeying me she duck on the ground and take hold of his chin to make him look in her eyes. Her hazel eyes switch to magenta pink in an instant, captivating him in her power. Slowly he stops struggling against my grip, his whole body going numb with every passing second and then he stops, all together.

"I'll take care of the rest." I just nod to her in answer while she does the same with the other three people.

Pressing the small button under my collar of my shirt I say, "It's done."

There's a little static on the other line before Liam's voice fill in. "Cool. We got Rick. Come back."

I press the button again. "On our way."

"We've to take him with us? Someone might see us on the camera."

I look over my shoulder, finding her standing near our deviant with her arms crossed on her chest.

"Liam takes care of technological stuffs," I offer her my hand, "Welcome to Elites, Ivy."

"Glad to make it out alive." She shakes it with a lopsided grin.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I'm again too late for the update and I'm genuinely sorry for it. I'm writing this with ice cold hands just so you guys know I'm already being punished by nature😅

If y'all liked this chapter, even an eensy bit then please don't forget to change the star colour.

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