The Overly Complicated Life of a (Self-Proclaimed) Villain

Chapter 12

Elliot

As I ran across the green, I could see the outside of my lab: it was not in flames like I feared it to be. Making my way through security was not as much of a hassle as students make it sound; however, when you are scared that your not-so-evil research will be burnt to the crisp, the extra few steps it takes to show an I.D. badge is fully annoying. I finally made it to the elevator, hurriedly pressing the lower basement button.

Let me make something clear: I am not affiliated with a secret organization-- that is run by a bigger secret organization-- that operates under the guise of a minor research lab in Yardford University's Chemistry department.

No: I'm just a scientist who is a researcher for the University's Chemistry department.

The elevator always took far too long to reach my level, and it always shook more than it should. I blame the lack of funding this department has. After a minute, the elevator doors slid open and my eyes met the blinding fluorescent light of the entrance to my not-at-all-secret-underground lab. I briskly made my way down the long, stark hallway until I was met with the keypad.

"Identification," the robotic voice began. I pressed my left index finger to the pad and after the beep of approval, a retinal scanner appeared and scanned my left eye.

"Identification complete. Welcome, Doctor Veal." The wall slid open to reveal my lab. Tables were lined across the wall and were littered with almost every lab tool one would need. Interns huddled in groups, as did my fellow scientists. On the far wall, our logo shone in fluorescent light: N.E.L.O.S., the Notoriously Evil Laboratory Order of Science. 

As I entered, I was met by a frantic Allie, "The boss is on the phone right now, they kept asking for you!"

"How long?"

"Eight minutes, twelve seconds." She slid a starch lab coat over my shoulders and pushed me into our shared office.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath just as the door closed.

"Greetings, Doctor Veal, glad you finally decided to join us," the phone on my desk sounded. At least they could not see me.

"Hello, Council," I responded with a placid face, "do forgive my late arrival. I had a late start."

"You are here now and that is what is important," the fizzled voice responded. "How is It coming along?"

"It has gone through the first stages of testing and I predict It will be ready by June." My voice was steady, I had dealt with the higher-ups before-- plenty of times-- especially since I was transferred to this branch of N.E.L.O.S.

What is It? Classified.

"The Council needs it sooner. You know what needs to be done. Do it," the disguised voice replied. Whoever was on the other line did not project emotion through their voice, after all, we were a very small piece in a very large puzzle and we were very replaceable.

"We need more testing-- more prototypes-- before It launches. Pardon my tone, but we need more time."

"You have till March. If It isn't ready, you are out of here."

I held back a sigh and looked at the wall in front of me. "I'll get my best scientists on it."

"Do better, Veal." The line went dead just as I slumped against my desk.

Allie poked her head in, "Were they mad?"

"Obviously. We have till March, then they'll cut our funding and we'll be ghosted."

"Damn." Allie walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, we'll get it done. And once we do, Doctor Nihilistical can die and N.E.L.O.S.--and the world-- will have a full-time lead scientist."

"I don't know how much longer I can do this, Al," I mumble, my head falling on her shoulder.

"I know," she whispers, wrapping me in a hug. "I know."

Bleddyn

The second I got out of my final exam for the day I texted Chloe.

Hey? 

Where were you? 

Are you ok?

I didn't have to go into work today, but instead of crashing at my apartment like most stress-filled Mondays, I nearly jogged to Chloe's apartment.

I sent another text.

I'm at your place. Talk to me.

"Calm yourself, Bleddyn, her phone probably died," I muttered to myself as I ran up the stairs to the sixth floor of her building. I thought back to any discussions we had before today, if she had ever mentioned not being able to make the first exam. She hadn't.

Once I reached her apartment door, I knocked thrice.

No answer, not even a call to come in.

I'm breaking into your apartment, hope that's ok. I sent the text.

When I first became Erebus, I figured lockpicking would be a needed skill so I learned on my apartment door, then tried Chloe's. I had only been successful once, hopefully, this would make it twice.

I grabbed a few paperclips and began working on the door, fiddling here and there, and constantly looking over my shoulder to catch any onlookers (there seemed to be none).

However, I seemed to forget the number one rule in lock picking: check to see if the door was locked.

After five frustrating minutes, numerous muttered curses, and two unusable paper clips, I finally tried to just open the door. It opened, and I received this year's Darwin Award.

I peeked into an empty apartment, "Hello? Chloe?" I called into the living room.

It was spotless.

Chloe hated to clean.

Why was it spotless?

I went into fight or flight mode and began to frantically search her three-room apartment, calling out her name.

It was all cleaned. It was all perfect, like the cover of a magazine.

And Chloe was not there to see it.