1 Serum-C

A dim, loose lantern hung from the ceiling of dilapidated stone. The gray stone was cracked in many places and every so often quakes would tremor through the stone causing avalanches of dust and debris to flutter ever so gently onto my head. 

As the soft orange light swayed from one end to another and the shadows beneath my feet danced to the rhythm, a heavy sound suddenly erupted from the corner of the room. 

Glancing up, a man I easily recognized entered the room. Wearing a long, dirtied lab coat, Dr. Silmor leaned against the heavily reinforced steel door and pushed it shut – causing another chain reaction of dust to blow through the already cramped space. 

He looked over at me and through his cracked spectacles, I recognized a deep sense of dread from the man's eyes. 

"It's come so soon?" I asked, a gentle chuckle following my obvious question. 

"You know I tried to stop it, but those self-indulgent –" 

"Oh quiet down old man! I don't want my final moments to be drowned out by your ramblings!" I flashed a cheeky smile, trying to raise the spirits of the only person I truly admired in the hellscape I was trapped in. 

But the man didn't reply to me, or perhaps he couldn't, choked up as he held back pent up emotions. And unfortunately for him, there really wasn't much time to be had for such innocent things. 

"Can you tell me what's going to happen?" I asked, interrupting the silence, "One more time?" 

Dr. Silmor sighed as he pulled his spectacles from his face. While rubbing them clean with a cloth, he walked towards another corner of the cramped room, although this corner contained an array of technological devices. 

The devices were haphazardly strewn across the wall, many of their screens partly shattered or damaged in some capacity, but I knew the information the many screens conveyed. 

If I really thought about it, it was a summary of my life or, at least, the current state of my life. 

My heart beat and blood pressure, various graphs detailing my hormone and vitamin levels – scattered across the screens was all of my biological data. 

"I'm going to be injecting you with Serum-C –" Dr. Silmor finally began. 

"First, the serum will enter your bloodstream where it will remain harmless for the first ten seconds. Within those ten seconds, it will travel to your heart and be centralized within your body. Once in your heart, the serum's protective coating will wear off and the chemical reaction between the serum and your blood will take place." 

I remained quiet through the doctor's explanation. Of course, I have heard this explanation hundreds of times by now. Both by doctors and scientists from the Experimental Division and by fellow inmates through gossip and legend. 

But something about hearing the details of the process before it occurs was oddly comforting. It wasn't going to detract from the pain or agony of the process, but mentally, it caused change. And perhaps it was that change that I had unknowingly placed all my hopes upon. 

"The chemical reaction is near instant. Immediately altering any and all red blood cells in contact with the serum. The blood cells begin to heat rapidly, eventually coagulating and thickening. As the blood solidifies, its temperature continues to rise until your blood vessels melt and your blood begins to boil." 

Dr. Silmor opened a drawer beside the mess of electronics and pulled from it a vial containing a pitch black substance. Afterwards, he similarly revealed a syringe and poked it through the vial's protective covering. 

After extracting the contents of the vial, Dr. Silmor turned towards me and approached. 

"And finally, before you die from your skin falling off or your blood ceasing to exist – your brain will melt along with every aspect you believe to be you. Your senses, feelings, memories. . . everything will burn as it's consumed into energy to create more heat until there's nothing of you left." 

Dr. Silmor's deep voice echoed in the small stone room. He finally arrived at my side along with the blackened syringe. 

If you could see me from afar, I was strapped to a chair. My arms and legs bound respectively and around my neck, a thick steel collar pressed against my artery. 

"Inmate Cain, no surname –" Dr. Silmor forced a smile, he had always made fun of me for not knowing my last name. It wasn't like it was my fault anyway, the Department razed all of the Old Age documents after the tragedy anyway. 

They didn't know my last name, not the other way around!

"Any last words?" Dr. Silmor asked. 

"Yeah actually –" I looked up, straining my neck trying to look behind me at Silmor's face, "the C, what does it stand for?" 

"The C?" Dr. Silmor asked. 

"Yeah the C –" I repeated, "Serum-C. It's gotta stand for something, right?" 

Another heavy sigh escaped Dr. Silmor's mouth, "Corrosion." 

"It stands for corrosion." 

"Ahh –" I looked away and stared at the stone walls. I tried to put on a brave face but at this moment tears began to cloud my vision, "that makes sense." 

An awkward silence suddenly permeated throughout the room. 

What the hell is that old man doing?! 

He needed to inject the syringe just then! Why is he hesitating?! 

Little did I know that Dr. Silmor's always steady hands were actually shaking and he too was forced to try and peer through a visage clouded by salt water. 

"I'm truly sorry Cain. May you find peace in rest." 

And with those words lingering in the air, I finally felt it. 

The prick of a needle penetrating my veins. 

Instinctively, I started to count. 

One. 

Two.

God why the fuck am I counting?!

Four.

I'm literally counting down my own death!

Six.

Seven.

This is morbid.

...

Ten!

And then I felt it, my heart turn ablaze. 

At first it was warm, soothing even. Like a hot chocolate on a winter day or a shot of whiskey to fight the frostbite, but that gentle warmth disappeared just as fast as it arrived. 

And was replaced by a raging inferno. 

My limbs started to go numb. I started to sweat excessively and I suddenly became nauseous as the once straight walls began to sway from left to right. 

I felt a hot liquid run down my lips. Parting them, I licked the fluid and although it burnt my tongue, it was clearly the taste of my own blood. 

Then, the walls around me started to turn red as a bloody hue began to obstruct my vision. 

Quickly after, blood poured from all of my orifices. 

And finally, a monstrous migraine assaulted my mind. I knew it was my brain melting, but I couldn't help but compare it to the only brain damage I've experienced thus far. 

It felt like a migraine – albeit a really fucking bad one. 

And just like that, I died. 

Why was I locked up and put on death's row to begin with? 

Let's just say it was a bunch of bullshit from a place I no longer call home. I wouldn't say I wanted to die, but getting away from that hellhole wasn't so bad, no matter how I looked at it. 

But before my consciousness faded and reality slipped away from my fingertips, a violent torrent of wind surged around me and a vibrant, explosive royal blue color assaulted my eyes. 

My thoughts suddenly halted. None of this should be possible! 

All of my senses, my very person melted into nothing! 

I shouldn't be able to feel anything! 

So how? 

How were my senses returning? First there was nothing, only darkness and silence. 

Then there was a roaring ringing and a flash of light. 

And at the end of it all, after the blue light subsided, I found myself standing in a dark room. 

Around me, a graveyard of fresh corpses were strewn across the floor. Many of them were young girls, adorned in pristine white cloth, all matching. 

A school uniform? 

Before I could investigate further, I noticed a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. 

I traced the movement with my eyes, my focus immediately strained to the limit. 

But what I saw shocked me. 

No, it didn't just shock me. I couldn't even believe it at first. 

Sprinting across the room, naked and sweaty, a small green man charged recklessly towards a group of cowering girls. 

The green little-person was bald and covered in tribal markings, from the calves of his legs to the wrists of his arms, intricate geometric patterns littered his skin. 

In his hand, he gripped tightly a crudely forged dagger. Its quality nothing more than a sharpened bone leather-bound to a particularly firm piece of wood. 

After inspecting the grotesque fiend, my eyes naturally wandered over to the group of cowering girls. And, unlike before, one of the girls stared back at me. 

She had long, wild hair that dropped down to her waist. A beautiful face, adorned with a sea of freckles and bright, red lips that matched the hue of her hair. 

Noticing my eye contact, she parted her lips and screamed from the deepest bellows of her gut. 

"Lesser Evil Cain! Save me from these fucking monsters!" 

I stared at the girl, wide-eyed. 

Huh?