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Prologue
Twentyyearsago.
Project: Blood Assassin
Subject: One
Day 732
Time 19:30
Subject One’s progress is still too slow to make an impact. In contrast to the other subjects, there are only a few sporadic instances of positive feedback. However, most of the time, One seems scared or uninterested, becoming unresponsive to any tests or reinforcements. In addition to experiencing night terrors, One is also suffering from a lack of appetite and sudden tremors caused by fear or anxiety. Punishments only worsen his erratic behavior.
The presence of Subject Two in the last six months hasn’t yielded the predicted results. Having the two subjects share a cell has negatively affected both of them. Subject Two didn't influence One; it was the other way around. Two seems to have developed a liking for One.
Nevertheless, all hope is not lost. We can now conduct new experiments on Subject Two, focusing on the absence of Subject One and its repercussions.
Subject One of Project Blood Assassin has failed. The elimination process will begin tomorrow.
Reminder: Keep the other subjects away from each other.
Doctor Megan Katherine Bear looked up from the notes in front of her and shifted her attention to the woman across the room.
“What’s with the disgusted face, Megs?” The woman, Linda, paused near the tray full of liquors lying on the sideboard in Megan’s office. Her long, pale fingers grasped one of the ornate decanters as she poured a generous amount of amber liquid into two crystal glasses. The thin heels of her Louboutin pumps clicked rhythmically on the wooden floor as she took a seat in one of the round, Italian-leather armchairs facing the mahogany desk.
“The cold, unfeeling manner in which these notes are written is appalling. How can they treat people as if they are mere objects? Even worse, they’re children. It’s horrifying!” Megan exclaimed.
Linda nodded, placing the glass in front of Megan before taking a long sip from her own. “I just got off the phone with Colonel Brody. Both he and Miss Elody from Social Services are on board with our plan. They’ll keep a close eye on us—whatever the hell that means—but Iconvincedthem to let us proceed.”
“They agreed?” Megan asked incredulously. She had already devised a plan B to smuggle the children out of the country to a safe place. It would be a challenging task, requiring her to call in multiple favors, but she was prepared to do whatever it took to help them. Finally, her family’s dirty money could pay for something truly beneficial.
Linda snorted. “What we uncovered, it’s a damn nightmare, Megs. If the press gets a whiff of it, prominent heads will fall, and imagine the repercussions with the public. Of course they’re happy to wash their hands of it and find a fast, silent solution.”
“So the general agreed to all our terms?” Megan asked her partner, reaching for her glass with a trembling hand. Although the news made things easier, it was not lost on her what a strenuous duty lay before them.
The wicked, slow smile Linda gave was such a contrast with her angelic features. Big, blue eyes brightened with what seemed like innocence on a cute, round face covered in freckles. Linda’s deceiving appearance helped her greatly in her line of work. “General Brody thinks he has the upper hand. But a couple of pictures of him butt naked licking his Daddy’s boots will turn him into the submissive doggy he really is.” Her straight, baby-blond locks waved around her lean shoulders with her shrug.
“Less TMI next time.” Megan shuddered. Not at the daddy kink—if it was consensual, good for him—but at the next meeting with General Brody. The mental image of his sweat-soaked, hairy, body bent over on the floor… Some things should remain private for a reason.
Even so, Linda’s chuckle made Megan smile for the first time in, what? Two days? The thought took her back to their assignment. A lot had to be done, but there were different aspects to take into consideration. The children’s well-being had to be front and center. And figuring out how to do that wasn’t going to be an easy task. Not after what those children had endured.
What transpired from those notes was shocking. Hideous. Sickening.
“Are you sure it’s not too late for those kids?”
Megan took a big breath. She was one of the most renowned psychiatrists in the country, but that was not why Linda trusted her opinion. “Those notes are terribly detailed. We know exactly what has beendoneto the children and how they reacted to it.But the mind is an intricate maze full of dark corners and sudden turns. Perhaps if we show them a straighter path to follow, they could turn out to be self-caring, balanced individuals.”
“Those Frankenstein doctors played with their heads, Megan. They fucked them up. Helping them…it won’t be all black and white. Are you ready to bend your morals a tad?” Linda raised a questioning eyebrow at her.
“I’m a psychiatrist, Linda. Moral principles can be debatable at times. The kids are still young. And open to suggestions. Their prefrontal cortex is still developing. Their sense of right versus wrong comes from the environment around them and their cognitive, emotional, and social skills.”
“Exactly. All they know is metal bars and what those doctors forced on them,” Linda retorted.
“Until now,” Megan quipped. “Those children are not hopeless. I—we—have to try. But I can’t do it by myself. I need your skills as well. I need you with me, Lin.” Megan leaned over the desk, her short, wavy, black bob rippling with the movement. She grabbed Linda’s hand and laced their fingers together.
Linda stared at their hands for a long while. Then she took another sip from her glass and relaxed against the soft leather. “Where do we start?”
The tension left Megan’s shoulders, and a strong sense of determination settled in her gut.
