CW // attempted murder

I met Clementine by the directors’ conference office at the end of the hall that held their personal offices. Clementine sat in one of the chairs next to the door, leaning back and looking bored, with her black curls down from their usual low ponytail or messy bun. She wore her normal attire of dark blue slacks and a lighter blue button up under a lab coat that had her looking more like a medic than the biologist and astronomer I knew her to be.

I plopped down next to her.

She immediately grabbed my arm, rolling up the sleeve to see the fresh bandage, and almost scaring me with the speed in which she did it. “You’ve been taking care of it?”

“The bandage is really just so my sleeve doesn’t aggravate it,” I promised, batting her hands away. “I consider it completely healed. And, no, I didn’t confront Ice about it. Neither of us brought it up.”

The door opened, and we looked up to see Junior Director Swann. She motioned us inside, and we followed her. She took her place at the far right of the long table along the center of the room. Thompson sat next to her, Klaaus next to him, and Alton at the other end. There was a large screen along the left wall, next to Senior Director Alton, showing the erratic movements of EW-20, as well as the locations of EW-7, EW-8, EW-3, and multiple patrol groups and other points of interest.

“Dr. Johan, Dr. Davidson,” Sr. Dir. Klaaus spoke in his familiar British accent. He motioned to the chairs, “Please, sit.”

We sat, tablets in our laps.

“Dr. Davidson,” Sr. Dir. Alton smiled, “would you like to start with what you and EW-54 spoke about? You just came from speaking with him, yes?”

“He actually talks to you?” Clementine stared at me. “Lucky.”

“Well, maybe if you smelled like fallen angels, he would like you, too,” I helplessly shrugged. Five pairs of surprised eyes turned to me. “Yes, he claimed that I smell like fallen angels. I assume it’s a reference to me being ex-Catholic, although I don’t know how he knew. And, keeping on the topic of religion and culture, we spoke of the Winter Alliance for a bit; he says he doesn’t worship the gods, and how they’re likely annoyed at us for trying to give them offerings after studying their kingdom for a century. When I tried to bring up the cybernetics, he asked me not to, saying that ‘they’ would try to silence him.” I was reminded of Ice’s blatant pain, how he clenched his teeth and dug his head into his shoulder. “He was in pain.”

“Ah, yes,” Clementine searched for something on her tablet, then placed it on the table. It was an x-ray of a skull, only shown to be inhuman from the sharpness of the canine teeth. “This is an x-ray of Ice’s head.” She pointed to a small object placed against the base of his skull. “We thought that was just a metal fragment from getting the cybernetic arm, but, one: we found no other such fragments, and, two: if he claimed that someone would stop him from talking, then‒”

“It might be a chip,” I finished. “Someone could actually….” The thought both sickened and excited me. Controlling a person with a microchip.

“You two think that EW-54 is being controlled?” Jr. Dir. Thompson leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“It makes sense,” Jr. Dir. Swann softly said, nodding. “His outbursts, his wild mood swings….” She slowly nodded. I could practically see the gears turning behind her dark eyes. “It’s definitely an angle we should examine.”

“Agreed,” Sr. Dir. Alton nodded. “Perhaps an exploratory surgery is called for.”

I frowned, “If someone really is controlling him with a simple chip, then….”

“Then what, Doctor?” Sr. Dir. Klaaus asked, eyes narrowed.

“Then…. It might be merged with his brain,” I hesitantly said.

In that moment, I was sure Thompson was going to throw up. He had such a weak stomach. Somehow. Swann just nodded in understanding, and Klaaus and Alton looked at each other, as though they had seen things like this before. Of course, their looks made sense: Swann had just barely escaped North Korea, and Klaaus and Alton had lived through the Second World War on opposing sides.

Finally, Klaaus said, “We will discuss this extensively. You two are dismissed.”

We both bowed our heads, standing up and leaving the room.

“These x-rays are in his file, yes?” I asked once the door was closed.

“Yeah,” Clementine nodded. “You really think the chip is fused with his brain?”

“I think it’s something we need to consider, especially since it’s right up against his skull,” I nodded, walking. “So, what do you want for lunch?”

“Eh, I’ll catch up with you later,” she shrugged, going off in a different direction. “I was asked to help out with something about EW-57, our newest arrivals. See you in the commons!” She waved as she walked away.

“Bye,” I lightly chuckled, making a mental note to read up on EW-57.

As I got further and further from the offices, the amount of people I passed shrunk until it was just me. The hall was eerily empty. The fluorescent lights cast odd shadows on strange places on the walls. One light flickered. I squinted at it a few times, daring it to flicker again. It didn’t.

A door opened somewhere. I glanced behind me only to see a patrolling guard coming out of a room. I turned forward and shook my head.

Why was this hall suddenly so creepy?

It got a lot creepier when someone grabbed me.

I was practically tossed into a nearby storage room and harshly shoved to the metal floor. I just barely caught myself, stinging pain shooting up my arms and tablet flying to the other side of the small metal and concrete room. A heavy, steel-toed boot slammed into my side, knocking the air out of me. My vision instantly went blurry, and I could’ve sworn I heard something crack. I gasped and choked, fumbling, reaching for my inhaler and desperately trying to crawl away and/or scream for help.

One of the two people grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back.

“Don’t ask questions you’re not ready to know the answers to.”

Duct tape was put over my mouth before I could scream for help. My head was pressed into the floor, with one assailant’s armored knee harshly digging into my back. Struggling did nothing. They bound my hands behind my back, and my ankles.

And then they were gone.

It wasn’t long before I passed out.

I sighed, falling down on the couch with my eyes closed. I stayed there for a long moment, breathing deeply. My mind wandered and dozed.

Then I heard something clatter. I opened my eyes.

“Marc, if you’ve snuck into my house again, I swear to God‒” I sighed, standing up from my very comfortable seat on the couch.

I entered the dark kitchen, freezing in my tracks.

The cupboards and drawers were open. A few things that had previously been in the fridge or cupboards were now on the counter. The dining room chairs had been moved. A broken plate was shattered on the floor.

“...Hello?” I slowly called. “Who’s there?”

Of course, no response.

I slowly began cleaning up, starting with the broken plate and keeping my eyes and ears out for any movement. I carefully gathered up the shattered pieces and tossed them into the bin, then inspected my hands for any cuts. I began putting the random bits and bobs away in their proper places.

Something shifted and clanked. My eyes locked on the cookware cupboard. I knelt down beside it, listening. Someone was most definitely inside, and that someone seemed to be trying to stifle their soft cries.

I opened the cupboard, then gasped.

A small boy, probably about eleven or twelve, sat in the cupboard. His knees were pulled up to his chest and he held both hands tightly over his mouth. His eyes were wide, overflowing with tears. His platinum blonde curls, matted with drying blood and glistening sweat, clung to his forehead.

The boy wore what appeared to be some sort of uniform, perhaps one for a school child. A short-sleeved white button-up, light pink shorts trimmed with gold, a waistcoat in the same shade and with the same gold trim and shining buttons. His shoes were black, and his white socks were trimmed with gold.

My first thought was how oddly pretty the gold and pink looked together.

I mentally smacked myself, trying to focus on the more at-hand matter. That being the literal wounded and crying child hiding in my cookware cupboard.

“Uh… hi there,” I slowly said. “I’m Calvin. How did you get in here?”

He moved farther into the cupboard, whimpering.

I sat back on my knees. “You’re hurt,” I eyed his bloody head. “I’m a doctor, I can help. What’s your name?”

He slowly moved his hands away from his mouth, “S-Sean Rose.”

I woke coughing and choking, gasping for air. My vision blurred and doubled. A clear plastic mask covered my nose and mouth. There was an uncomfortable pressure around my bicep. The top few buttons of my shirt were undone. I could hear beeping somewhere nearby. A heart monitor?

I blinked and squinted, slowly focusing on the figures above me, silhouetted against the vibrant white light.

“Hey, welcome back,” Clementine sighed in relief.

Something whimpered. I weakly turned my head to see a large, white wolf, with big icy blue eyes, looking concerned. The wolf’s right front leg was metal. A very familiar silver and blue metal. The back of his left ear was coated in the same metal.

“...Ice?” I breathed. “Wh-what…?”

“Hey, hey, save your strength,” Clementine softly told me. “You were straight-up dead for a while.” She ordered those around us, “Let’s get him to the infirmary.”

I couldn’t help but stare at Ice’s wolf form as my limp and aching body was lifted onto a gurney. My vision blurred. My head pounded and spun. It was difficult to breathe. I focused on the lights above me.

I must have blacked out again, because, the next time I opened my eyes, I was laying in a bed. There was an oxygen mask over my face, a pulse oximeter clipped onto my index finger, and a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

I slowly blinked a few times, coming to the conclusion that I was laying in a bed in the infirmary. I let out a long breath, closing my eyes.

I opened them when I remembered what happened. I quickly sat up in the bed, green eyes wide. I looked at my wrists. They were red from the zip-tie restraints. I wore a hospital gown. My clothes and belongings were sitting in a bag nearby. I let out a slow breath, leaning back on the pillows and rubbing my face.

There was a soft knock at the door, “Calvin? Oh, hey, you’re awake. Good morning. And, yes, it is actually morning. You slept for almost a day.”

I weakly smiled, “Hey, Clem. Mind telling me what happened?”

She entered the room, closing the door behind her. “Well, long story short, EW-54 broke containment via freezing the hydraulics system in his chamber door and busting it down. He turned into his wolf form ‒ his very large and very scary wolf form that is literally bigger than a dire wolf ‒ and ran right to the storage closet, again busting down the door with ease. And that’s when we found you in there. Tied up and gagged, not breathing.” She sat in the chair next to the bed. “Please tell me you remember who did that to you.”

I leaned back, thinking, “Two people, dressed in black, grabbed me in the hallway.” My eyes widened with horror, “Guard armor. They were wearing guard uniforms. They…,” I shook my head. “One of them told me not to ask questions I wasn’t ready to know the answers to.” I looked up at her, “H-how did Ice know I was in that closet specifically? How did he know I was in danger?”

“Junior Director Thompson’s been interrogating him on and off ever since we resuscitated you,” she shrugged, checking my vitals. “Don’t think he’s gotten anywhere. The directors want you to try to talk to 54.” Clementine glanced at me, “Having any breathing trouble? I can take the mask off if you’re not.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I sighed. “Looks like I just needed some rest.”

“Okay,” she nodded, removing the mask from around my face. “Your inhaler is…,” she looked through the white personal effects bag that sat nearby. “Ah, right here.” She set my inhaler on the table. “Now, Junior Director Swann wants to talk to you about EW-54, if you’re feeling up to it.”

I sighed and nodded.

Clementine seemed hesitant, but curtly nodded and left.

She was soon replaced with Junior Director Swann.

“Ma’am,” I nodded, trying to sit up.

“Dr. Johan said you just woke up, so I’ll make this quick,” she promised, jumping straight to the point. “We’ve been interrogating EW-54 on and off since he led the guards to you yesterday, and, well, James’s tactics aren’t getting us anywhere. We were wondering if you would be alright with asking 54 some questions, since you two have rapport.”

I sat up fully, “Well, I suppose I can give it a shot, although I’m not sure how well he’ll respond to me, if Junior Director Thompson hasn’t gotten anywhere.”

She raised a brow, skepticism in her dark eyes, “James’s tactics include threatening and inducing high stress, of course he’s not getting anywhere. Besides, you’re 54’s doctor. You know how 54 thinks, what he’s likely to do. Also you’re much nicer than James.”

A small smile pulled at my lips. “When would you like me to see him?”

“Whenever you’re ready, after you’re cleared to leave,” Swann replied. “Now get some rest, you nearly died. 54 can wait.”