Man on the Inside

Man on the Inside - Part 1

Massaru looked mournfully at the broken, bloated body before him on the dissecting table as he put on his surgical gloves and arranged his mask. Another one of Retten's failures; the abdomen was ripped open, seemingly from the inside. Massaru allowed himself to glance at the body's face. The man couldn't be older than mid twenties, the same ages as his son. Massaru squinted through his thick glasses, wondering what his son was doing now; it had been so long since attempting to contact him.

All this to catch a monster. He was never told what the madman, Retten, was doing with all that equipment in his lab, or what that machine was for, but he had a faint inkling, and it left his stomach cold. Sometimes he saw the madman smile as he tinkered around in his lab. It was a smile that confirmed people's beliefs that evil was something born and not made. I hope this nightmare will end soon.

Meanwhile, he had to play his part at the Freewill compound, letting the others think he was as brainwashed as the rest of them. He couldn't wait to be rid of this role.

As he examined the contents of the stomach cavity his mouth ran dry. With a pair of tweezers he held up the remains of a leg, and from thigh to toes it was barely an inch long.

---

Cetz leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk, his fingers brushing the black buzz cut he had gotten two days ago. It was still fuzzy enough to be a distraction. Base Two of The Watch, also known as Watch Two, was quiet for the early morning. They were working on half staff because of the quiet, all except Rachel. He could hear her tinkering around in the Med lab just down the hall. She lived here almost as much as he did. The base was glass paneling, concrete, and pure white walls everywhere, and it strained Cetz's eyes with hygienic brightness.

Wonder if I can get a potted plant in here? The Watch. I'm still convinced whoever came up with the name for us was an Alan Moore fan.

Scanners were going through records and computers were on automatic for any alarms coming in. Cetz hoped it would remain calm so he could get in forty winks.

A red light from his computer shined through his eyelids and tinted his white office room pink.

"Damn," he hissed.

He clicked the message icon on his screen and had barely read the first sentence when he cursed again.

"Rachel!" he yelled. "Rachel we have a thing!"

A minute later she came to his doorway, lab coat still on her shoulders and long blonde hair pulled back. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"We have an intercom, Cetz. You don't have to yell. And what do you mean thing?"

Cetz turned the screen around to face her.

"Oh, shit," she muttered. "I'll get the team back. Want me to call Louis?"

"No, I will. He's going to have to hear this from me."

"Why?"

"Because he's taking his partner with him whether he likes it or not."

---

Louis Patriarch, agent of The Watch, slammed the door on his car while still holding the cell to his ear. A mission with goody-two-shoes, doe-eyed, James Bond-wannabe William Rowe was the last thing he wanted, and he said so into the receiver.

"Lou, you're going to need him on this one."

"Why?"

"I'll explain when you get to base."