Page 69 of Devil May Lie

“Yikes.” He covered his ears and turned to Berga. “Did you give him something to turn him into a banshee?”

“No, nothing like that,” Berga waved him off, the corner of his mouth tipping upward in that maniacal, mad scientist look he sometimes got. “The nanites I slipped into his beer are taking apart his throat muscles and his vocal cords. Just wait a moment and it’ll stop.”

Almost as soon as he said it, Canham coughed and then went silent. He dropped to his knees, tears flowing down his cheeks as he continued to claw at his neck.

“He’s going to tear through his skin like that,” Madden noted.

“An interesting side effect I hadn’t considered,” Berga agreed.

Madden blinked at him. “Are you saying this is untested?”

“It’s in the testing stages, to be accurate.” He tipped his head, brow furrowing ever so slightly. “Strange. He should be screaming again.”

“He’s still screaming.” They just couldn’t hear him, that was all, but by the way his mouth was gaping open, it was clear he was.

“Yes, but the nanites should have repaired his vocal cords by now.”

“Repaired them?”

“They’re programmed to take them apart and put them back together again—” Berga grinned when Canham’s whimpers filled the room once more. “There we go. I was worried there was an issue with the programming for a moment.”

“Make it stop!” the redhead seemed to snap out of his horror long enough to rush for Canham, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Please!”

“I’m afraid I haven’t gotten that far in the testing stage yet,” Berga replied flippantly, inspecting Canham closely. Like he would a lab rat.

Madden actually shuddered.

Berga grimaced when the screams became shrill. “Perhaps I should shorten the time the vocal cords are repaired. This is cumbersome.”

“When will it end?!” the redhead changed tactics.

“He’d go mad long before the nanites run out of energy.” He considered something and then said, “You’d be better off shooting him in the head. End his suffering. Feel free to do so whenever. I’ve observed enough. I’m confident I can tweak the composition to correct these minor inconveniences.”

“You’re a fucking monster!”

“That’s interesting. Weren’t you all, only a moment ago, admiring me? What did you think the Butcher of the Brumal did, exactly? Oh.” Berga nodded. “Is it that you only find my work fascinating when it isn’t being conducted on one of you? That’s a bit hypocritical.”

“Please—” Before the redhead could finish, Canham lifted the blaster.

He could have aimed it at Madden, but instead, he brought it to the side of his own head and pulled the trigger in less time than it took to blink. Blood and brain matter exploded, coating the redhead's face in an instant.

“I guess that also works,” Berga said, though his lips twisted in obvious distaste. His humor returned when the redhead snapped out of it and picked up the weapon, lifting it Berga’s way. “Think carefully, Paradox.”

“You know…who I am?” the redhead hesitated.

“Of course. I wasn’t lying before. The Brumal has considered poaching a few of you from that pathetic loan business. Your name was on the list. Pity, really. I was going to add you to my personal medical team, but you had to go and throw your life away.”

Paradox was shaking.

“Think,” Berga repeated. “Think really carefully. If you can’t kill me in one shot, you’ll regret it, and you’re all alone now so…”

He sucked in a sharp breath and spun on his heels, staring behind him where his friends should have been.

“They left after the first time the screaming stopped,” Madden filled in for him. “I would have told you, but I didn’t think you’d hear me over the noise.”

“I…” He gulped.

“Whose idea was it to blow up the bike?” Berga asked.

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