Page 109 of The Chemist

In the center of the wall was one large screen with the word “live”pasted in the top right corner and the number 435 listed just below it.

Zero stepped forward, eyes wide with horror as he watched a man creep up behind a woman who appeared to be hiding behind the trunk of a tree, sobbing.

Zero watched as the number on the screen jumped from 435 to 438.

Were those the number of people watching this live stream?

“Watch this. This is always my favorite part,” the doctor said from where he sat, sitting on a chair, gun pointed at his head.

They watched as the scared woman held up her hand in front of her face, appearing to be transfixed by what she saw. She moved her hand back and forth, smiling as her hand appeared to comfort her.

“This is where the patient gets lost in their hallucination, forgetting that their life is in mortal danger,” the doc added, seeming pleased with what he was witnessing.

Zero held his breath as he watched the man stalk toward the woman, his chest heaving as he raised a log above his head. Closing his eyes, Zero listened to the sound of the woman’s skull cracking open as the man brought down the weapon in one fell swoop.

The room gasped as the woman’s lifeless body fell to the ground, leg twitching as the nerves in her body continued to react.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Seeing how one drug can have a calming effect even when one’s life is in imminent danger. The more powerful the hallucination, the more powerful the effects on the body. Can you imagine what that can do for military interrogations? Convincing your prisoner that they are in a safe environment, creating a world in which they feel comfortable enough to tell their enemies their secrets? Think about the power that drug could yield.

“Then, of course, you have the drug that heightens aggression. It dulls all sense of morality—that which makes us human by giving us a conscience—and brings forth the animalistic need to survive. The drug creates such intense fear that the patient becomes overly aggressive in an attempt to protect one’s self, that basic need for self-preservation.” The doctor let out another laugh. “Want to know which drug I gave your little friend?”

Zero didn’t care. Both drugs were dangerous and could bring about unspeakable horrors if Zero didn’t find Diesel quickly.

Checking the rounds in his gun, he picked up a discarded gun and tucked it into the back of his jeans.

“I’m going after him,” Zero announced.

“We’ll see if there is some sort of a serum that might help counter the effects of the drug,” Matteo responded.

Zero took a deep breath, then charged out of the room. He hoped that he wasn’t too late.

41

DIESEL

“Focus. You need to stay focused.” He wasn’t going to turn into a rabid dog and lose all self-control. He was a human being with decency and morals. Okay, some might argue that his morals were questionable, but murder was something he was strongly against.

Concentrate. Remain focused.

That was what he kept telling himself.

He hoped that he had the willpower. Self-control and willpower were not something that he was well known for. Anytime things got tough, he either ran away or gave into the easiest solution. Oftentimes, that easiest solution was drugs. Drugs took away all the pain. Drugs made everything feel better. Drugs always made him… forget.

That’s it… relax. Give in. Why fight against all of that pain? You know it’s only going to get worse,that pesky voice inside him urged.

He hated that voice sometimes. It always got him into trouble and always left him feeling alone and empty.

Seeing the others freak out and lose control had been terrifying. It was like watching someone flip a switch and suddenly transform into a mindless beast.

Two of them ran screaming in terror—off into the woods with no clear direction in sight.

Diesel and the guy with the crooked nose were given the other drug. The one that made people crazy and angry.

It started off with a bit of discomfort. His face began to flush, and his jaw began to tighten. Then came the feelings of sadness and depression.Why was he all alone? Why had nobody come to rescue him? Because nobody cared. It was as simple as that.

That was when he heard the laughing. Male and female voices all making fun of him and snickering at the fact that he didn’t have any friends. No family to give a shit whether he lived or died. No boyfriend or girlfriend to wonder where he was or when he would be coming home. No…nothing.

That was when the rage began. That buildup started in his gut before rising through his veins.He would make them all pay. All those who laughed. All those who thought he was worthless. Fuck them all. They were all going to die.

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