Tea Leaves and Diamond Bracelets

Russian House

Match Eight: Russian House:

-Ivan-

Their talking blended together for him. If Vozrozhdeniye couldn't have the tadpoles for themselves, they would have to create a being that could rival them. Sure it was his idea, but it was just to shut them up. How was he to know they would take him seriously? Ivan should've expected as much.

"I just about nailed the exact make-up of the tadpoles," Boris said as he pulled up the data on the screen. The group crowded around for a better look. The DNA strand slowly turned on the screen. The bright colors were enough to make Ivan glance up from his knitting. Boris tapped out each part.

"These are the different drugs that have fused with the cells," he said. "Each piece contains a number of elements in a certain drug."

"Can it be separated and broken apart?" Ivan sked.

"No," Boris said. "But I can try and take the sample for closer examination." He got typing to bring up more data. Ivan returned to his knitting. His boss insisted that he had to be here. It's just humoring at this point. They already lost the Dis Program. Kenya, Karp, and Lazar tried to recover Yoemon-sensei's computer, but the hard drive was fried beyond repair. Any data that could get from it was rendered unless.

"It does not matter now," Fyodor told them over Skype. "We have a new angle to capture the tadpoles." He still wouldn't let it go? Ivan just checked out mentally at this point.

Besides, he had something else to worry about.

Ivan himself started to have strange visions. They started off as dreams. He's had nightmares before in the past and practically learned how to block them out. This time, the Russian man could tell this was different.

He saw himself back in the 1950's. The white walls around him looked like they were ready to crush him. His eyes looked so empty. Ivan himself sat on a low bed in this tiny room. He didn't move, but his body told a dark story of self-harm. He didn't want to hurt himself. He just wanted to stop the voices in his head. They made him do these things. They showed him things that would make grown muscled men screamed. It didn't help that he heard a constant tapping when he was in his room.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Always those same six taps. Then, there was her.

He didn't look up when the door opened. She always comes in smiling.

"Good morning!" she greeted him. Her smile is a lie. The voices told him about the mask that she always wore.

Do not believe her lies! She's trying to kill you. She's going to poison you.

Why did she care about him so much? What was her goal? Today, she carried a tray in her hands. She walked over to him. He can never see what she looks like. He just saw her curves in her dress. Speaking of which, said dress blended in with the white around them.

"How are you this morning?" she asked. He never spoke. The voices wouldn't let him. She doesn't notice the war in his head. She seems to talk to herself as she works.

"Your medication seems to be working," she said. "No suicidal thoughts or actions, huh?" He doesn't respond. Does she even notice? Does she even care?

"Good, good," she said. "We'll have you all better soon." She set down the tray. "Time to eat." She fed and bathed him. The voices in his head didn't trust her.

She's evil. She's trying poison you! You have to kill her!

Something inside of him snapped and started the final downward spiral.