“Mr. Hawkins, New York Times would like to interview you. They’re willing to pay handsomely for your time.”
He watched his assistant fidget, noting how her pigeon-toed stance only made her more diminutive. It was impressive how resilient the girl was. He expected her to quit more than a few months ago.
“Mr. Hawkins?” She blinked at him. “What shall I tell them?”
Lithe fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ms. Mitchell, my time is worth more than any gold can buy.” He watched as Jess Mitchell visibly blanched at his sharp words. Deciding to make the task easier for the girl, he corrected himself. “Say that I am not taking any visitors at this time.” She immediately relaxed, before scurrying away.
The man smiled to himself, pleased at how well he can handle the press.
Nigel Hawkins recently returned to the spotlight after going off-the-grid for three months. It caused quite an uproar when he revealed he will be auctioning off the AI robot that was found in Southern Utah two weeks earlier.
He remembered when he received the news. As he went through his daily mail, it shocked him to find a blood-red envelope among the crisp, white bills. Though the letter held a threatening tone, he found solace in it due to the identity of the sender. His twin brother, Gale Hawkins, had been the only person who knew his location. Nigel had confided in no one else, ensuring absolute secrecy to mourn the death of his daughter.
A daughter that had been artificially grown in a plastic womb.
…
Gale and Nigel were the perfect team. Even as children, they always worked together to create ‘fun’ experiments. It started off small, seeing if leaves would change color when different chemicals and dyes were added. The older they got, the more twisted the experiments were.
When the brothers were only 11 years old, they decided to experiment with the reproductive organs of field mice. They conducted the experiments in an abandoned barn less than a mile from their house. It was filled with mice. Taking it upon themselves to rid the structure of its pests, they started off by raiding the nests and tossing the young pups out into the open fields, leaving them vulnerable to predators. This exterminated one-third of the population.
Afterward began the forced sterilizations. Gale cut, while Nigel removed. They took turns sewing up the aftermath. Similar simulations were repeated on different species.
Around age seventeen, both boys changed their interest to Homo sapiens – humanity. Gale was the first to recognize the evil, scowling in disgust any time his peers made lewd comments towards the opposite sex. When his classmate sexually assaulted a younger female, he vowed to purify all life on earth.
No one suspected the straight-A student for poisoning the sexual offender with rat poison.
The teen’s food was tainted with dangerous powder. Over the course of several months, his complexion deteriorated to become papery and sallow, while his loss of appetite left his body aching for nutrition. Bloodshot eyes filmed over, becoming milky and white. Previously shining teeth decayed and rotted, leaving him in constant pain, unable to eat.
He became a living corpse, barely functioning. Gale took immense pleasure in his classmate’s misery. The damned deserved to die.
Though he was a cold-blooded murderer, Gale had enough heart to take the assaulted young girl under his wing, offering his friendship and slowly mending her broken heart. As their relationship steadily improved, the teen found himself thinking unholy thoughts about the beautiful girl. Ashamed by his body’s reactions, he shut out the girl he worked so hard to protect, leaving a gaping hole in his heart.
This was the final straw that pushed Gale into carrying out his plan to purify humanity. He notified Nigel, who wholeheartedly agreed.
Senior year of high school was filled with extended excursions to a cabin the brothers built in the surrounding woods. They delved into the world of genetics, robotics, and anatomy, excelling in the corresponding clubs and classes.
It was Nigel who proposed the first idea:
…
“You know,” the dark-haired twin spoke, “we could use a virus.”
“A virus?” Gale was skeptical. “How are you so sure they won’t find a cure for it?”
Nigel swiveled away from the desktop computer, turning to face his brother. His fingers clasped with so much force that the color was squeezed out of them. He rested his chin on top of his hands, staring intensely at a spot behind Gale’s shoulder.
He was frozen for a while more, pondering all the possibilities when it hit him. Shooting up into the air, he grabbed his brother’s arms and began to talk in a voice too loud for the middle of the night.
“Gale, we can eradicate all traces of undesirable humanity through a third party.” Nigel watched as his brother ran a hand through his sandy, blonde locks, exasperated.
“What third party will associate with our plan?” Gale ripped himself away from his twin’s grasp, opting to pace back and forth across the room. “I don’t think any sensible person will agree to wipe out his own species. It’s unfathomable.”
“I never said it would be human! Look, we can use the knowledge we learned from robotics to good use.”
Gale’s eyes were bulging, a crazed look entering them. “It’s going to be a robot? A fucking robot?” He laughed at his brother’s ludicrous idea.
“Yes, it’s going to be a fucking robot.” An idea popped into Nigel’s head, morphing his face into a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind fucking a robot though.”
Nigel flopped to the ground as Gale sent a bone-shattering kick to his nether regions.
…
It was quite enjoyable to watch his secretary flinch. Maybe that was why he never wanted her to quit, though his actions said otherwise.
Nigel’s piercing blue eyes followed her figure as she flitted around his office, tidying and rearranging the disheveled files. Though the girl was timid, it was clear that she had a sort of grace that was from years of athletic training. Possibly ballet, maybe tennis or swimming.
He hoped she was flexible, that would be useful for possible future activities.
“Ms. Mitchell,” He addressed her, breaking the deafening silence, “Come here. I would like you to organize my desk.” Though Nigel had a private office, he requested all his secretaries to stay in the same room as him. He did not want to give prying eyes new gossip.
“Of course, sir.” Jess Mitchell stood from her desk, waiting patiently for her employer to move so she could begin her work. Much to her chagrin, he never did. “Mr. Hawkins?” The redhead questioned the man who sat before her.
Nigel glanced at his gold Rolex watch, before looking at the girl again.
“I don’t have all day, Jess.” He noted how she flinched at his casual use of her first name.
Blushing beet red, she quickly moved closer to Mr. Hawkins, trying not to let the idea of working in such proximity bother her. Though he was attractive and immaculately dressed, it was off-putting to think that the man was fifteen years her elder. If Jess was nearing her thirties, she would have thought it possible to pursue something with him, but at the ripe age of twenty-two, it seemed too suspicious – too taboo.
As the redhead was about to open the first drawer, Nigel suddenly jumped out of his seat, racing out the door in response to an urgent text. His footsteps faded before Jess jumped into action, deciding to use this opportunity to snoop around. Her employer never left the office suddenly. He never left without first locking his computer. She was incredibly curious about his personal life. Wanting to understand the enigma that was Nigel Hawkins, she took a deep breath and a leap of faith. The risk was worth it.
The mouse scanned over multiple financial documents before finally coming across a file titled:
MODEL 01 – overview
Jess Mitchell’s large, green eyes expanded to the size of saucers as she skimmed over the text within the file. One line stood out.
OBJECTIVE: Purge humanity of its wastes.
“Nigel Hawkins, what have you done?”
…
Crisp leather shoes clacked against the marble floors as a man rushed through the halls. His sleek, state-of-the-art phone was pressed against his ear. The employees milling in the open-plan office quickly scattered out of their boss’s vicinity. They knew better than to disturb him when he looked like that.
Distinct grunts of frustration, as well as the occasional curse word, were the only sounds emitted from the man. Strong fingers repeatedly jabbed the down-button for the elevator. The seconds ticked by as he waited.
Twenty-six floors would take too much time to descend on foot, but it was the only option. The elevator was temporarily closed for maintenance but would be reopened during the afternoon rush. A custodian who was passing by shared the info, coming back minutes later with a sign that showed the same message.
A resounding “fuck!” had been the only reaction given, before he promptly turned around and sprinted down the stairs. Perhaps forgetting to lock his files was the smallest problem of the day.
.
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