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jessiscoolsstuff · 2 months ago

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omg show them a bit of the book you’re doing bc it’s really swag and this is how i’m coping with the little kio content you’re feeding me :((

all serious tho ur so swag im sorry if this feels like peer pressure (it is)

ok sure guys

here’s chapter 1 of my book!!!

The Genesis Research Institute, Maple Ridge was one of those places where nobody was ever seen going in or out. The government were certainly experts at keeping what they were up to under wraps. Even better, most of society were so complacent that they never questioned why the Institute was so secretive anyway. The most common assumption was that it was the hub for cancer research, whilst others thought it was some kind of military facility. There was no evidence at all that the lab was active unless you decided to traverse through the thick forest and look down into the valley at night. There it stood, the large, institutional white building giving an impression of imposition, even from such a long distance. In the veil of night time, the lights were always on in the windows- shining out a harsh white against the inky darkness.

At this particular moment, Vincent was sat in one of the observation rooms, his fingers steepled on the desk in front of him. He tapped his foot against the floor restlessly, his neat black shoes clacking softly against the tiles as he did so. He’d spent many sleepless nights working up to this moment, and he was sure the only thing keeping him alive was the caffeine coursing through his veins. It made him feel dizzy and jittery, or perhaps it was the nerves. Either way, his stomach felt as if it was tied into a tight knot. The knot twisted almost painfully as he glanced up from his hands to the one-way glass in front of him. Writhing and struggling against her restraints was a cherry-headed girl who seemed to be in her late teens, but her soft features and wide, pleading eyes held an essence of youth and innocence. Vincent couldn’t bear to look any longer, a slight lump forming in his throat as he saw the almost primal look of fear in her eyes. He averted his gaze back down to his hands, pretending to adjust some papers on his desk as he reminded himself what this was all for.

He’d never be underestimated again.

Vincent’s expression returned to one of cool indifference as he relished in the thought of all his colleagues practically bowing at his feet. He was inches away from accomplishing what they thought was impossible. He took a swig of his coffee but at this point the bitter taste had begun to make him feel sick and he couldn’t bring himself to finish it. Swivelling around in his chair, he went to drop the disposable cup into the bin when he saw one of his interns standing in the doorway, the reinforced metal door closing heavily behind her. The intern in question, a seventeen-something year old girl with a slight frame and a nervous disposition, moved her eye line down to the coffee that Vincent was now hovering over the bin. Her whole face seemed to fall slightly at the notion that Vincent didn’t like her coffee. “Didn’t you like it, Dr. Sutton? I made it with warm milk and sugar, just like you asked.” She nodded repetitively, as if reassuring herself. Her hands moved behind her back and she tugged at the sleeves of her ill-fitting lab coat, fidgeting skittishly. Vincent sighed gently at the sight, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he dropped the cup into the bin. He knew what it was like to be an intern, and most likely, this girl had been roped into something that she felt she was too deep to get out of. “Kaia, sweetheart, your coffee making skills are perfectly satisfactory. It’s not your coffee that I don’t like, it’s just coffee in general that I’m getting a bit sick of.” Despite his exhaustion and stress, he attempted a kind smile which seemed to lift Kaia’s spirits a little. “What you can do for me, though,” The doctor continued, “Go and fetch the other researchers for me. They’re in the break room, I think.”

Kaia gave him a small nod and then turned on her heel, going back through the iron door and towards the break room just as Vincent had instructed. As her footsteps got quieter and further away, the room fell silent once more and Vincent was alone again. Except for the subject behind the glass, of course, but he supposed that didn’t really count. Observing her behaviour for a little while longer, he began to take notes down onto this particular subject’s case file. Subject seems aggressive and uncooperative, he wrote in his neat hand, the black ink smudging slightly across the paper due to the beads of sweat that had begun on his palm.

He pressed a red button on the microphone on his desk, leaning forward slightly in order to speak down the intercom. “Can you give me your name, please? Just want to make sure we’re dealing with the right subject here.” Vincent queried in his smooth voice, the speaker making his words sound slightly crackled and muffled. The girl in the chair had her head down, tufts of her claret hair cascading over her face so Vincent couldn’t quite gauge her expression. “I’m not telling you anything, you sick motherfucker.” Her reply was eerily quiet but it carried the viciousness and sharpness of a dagger. Silence hung thickly in the air, only interrupted by the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above them. The doctor managed to keep an unchanged expression, but hearing those words made white hot anger boil up in his veins. Whether it was anger at the girl, or at the fact that he ended up in this job in the first place, he wasn’t quite sure.

They had started on animals. Completely ethical, he was reassured, by the head researcher who had a sinister gleam in his eyes as he watched Vincent sign the contract all those years ago. Then they began the use of human subjects. That’s when Vincent began to feel so conflicted. He was suddenly made extremely aware of the trauma they were forcing onto their test subjects. Humans were a lot different to animals. They cried, they begged, they screamed louder.

But this was his duty, and he had an obligation to follow whatever his superiors told him. There was no way around it anymore- he’d dug himself in too deep.

“You’re sick! You’re all sick!” The subject behind the glass sat bolt upright, her hair sticking to her forehead in matted clumps due to the shiny sweat that had formed on her skin. She pulled against her restraints frenetically, like some kind of wild animal or mental patient. Her limbs flailed about as much as her limited mobility allowed and she reached out, her hands grasping towards the glass as if she wanted to rip Vincent’s throat out.

Vincent watched her with an aloof look of surprise on his face, pushing his chair backwards as he drummed his fingers pensively against the armrests. Clasping the microphone in his hand, he spoke once more. “Resistance is futile. Your only option is cooperation at this point, I’m afraid.” His tone held a hint of iciness to it as he spoke. He rested his black leather shoes atop his desk, crossing one foot over the other. “And cut out the foul insults. Making me angry will worsen your situation further.” Vincent quirked an eyebrow as he watched the almost pathetic attempts at resistance from the girl in front of him. He waited patiently for a response, his sharp blue gaze boring into her as if he were trying to read her.

No response. Her screams had escalated into incoherent shrieks and it was grating. Vincent winced almost imperceptibly at the shrill noise as his gaze travelled back down to his clipboard. “Fine then. We’ll stick with calling you Subject 51.” He continued simply as he wrote something down on his clipboard, punctuating his sentence with a flourish of his fountain pen.

He looked up from what he was doing as he felt a calloused, bony hand come to rest on his shoulder from behind him. His shoulders tensed up as he sat up straighter in his seat. He didn’t even have to look back to know who it was. “I underestimated you, Vincent. The ambition you’ve shown is… formidable.” The presence loomed over him for a little longer than Vincent felt comfortable with before the hand slowly trailed its way off his shoulder. Vincent turned to the newcomer, who had now settled down to sit beside him. Dr DeLano was one of the head researchers at Genesis, an insufferable man with dark blue hair that hung loosely in a braid down his back. He held a cruel, twisted disposition that wasn’t too far off pure insanity, which was apparent in his eyes as he watched the test subject with a strange intensity to his gaze. “What are you waiting for, Sutton? Do you feel bad?” Dr DeLano asked, tilting his head to the side, his gaze holding enough malice to practically burn holes into Vincent’s skull as he stared at him. “Remorse is a weakness. And weakness, it festers. So it simply must be… cut out.” There was an insidious hiss in his husky voice that made a chill run down Vincent’s spine. He flinched back instinctively, a deafening silence lingering in the air. Taking a deep breath, he dug his fingers into the armrest of his chair, his hands shaking. “No. I’ll get it done.” Vincent replied in a low tone. “Sir.” He added quickly, a hint of panic rising in his voice. Over and over in his mind, he was trying to remind himself of the bigger picture. The end goal of this whole mess. Despite Dr DeLano’s cruelty, he was strangely charismatic. He could easily influence people to do his bidding, he had an eerily soothing, alluring aura about him. For some reason, Vincent found himself wanting to do as he said. He was Eve in the garden of Eden, his outstretched fingers merely inches away from seizing the forbidden fruit from the verdant tree above him.

Maybe he wasn’t a good person after all.

They locked eyes for a moment longer. Dr Delano’s irises were haunting. They seemed to be completely devoid of colour, lifeless and betraying no emotion whatsoever; a result of self-inflicted genetic experimentation. Vincent didn’t even hear the rest of the researchers file into the room. Some stood with bated breath, others looked on with excitement as they stood in an arc around the viewing window like some kind of strange, cultish gathering. Suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings again, he pivoted round in his chair to observe the onlookers.

His eyes scanned carefully over the small crowd. Right in the corner of the room, forced to stand on tiptoes to see properly, he could barely discern the blonde tufts of Kaia’s head amongst the older, more experienced scientists. She shouldn’t be there. She was too young to witness anything that happened in the lab, let alone what they were about to do to this subject, a girl who seemed to be around the same age as Kaia herself. Shooting a glance at Dr Delano, who seemed to be engrossed in watching the suffering of the test subject as her restraints were tightened, he took his chance to leave his seat and pushed through the group to get to his intern in the corner. He had to bend down in order to speak to her discreetly. She was small and fragile-looking, and Vincent had grown to feel rather protective of her since she took up internship with him. Perhaps it was because her innocence reminded him of his old self, before his mind was manipulated and corrupted. “You know what? I really fancy a coffee now.” He told her, trying to exaggerate his need for a drink so she would get the hint and go to grab him one. Kaia returned his gaze with her soft blue eyes and nodded quickly. “Oh.” She sounded slightly disappointed as she looked back over the crowd again, eyeing the observation window curiously. “Okay, Dr. Sutton. I’ll go and fetch you one.” Hastily, she weaved in and out of the surrounding researchers to get to the door, as if she was worried she would miss what was about to happen. Vincent followed her, offering her a warm smile at the door. “Thank you. Remember, extra hot, okay?” He reminded her tenderly as he helped her push against the heavy iron door to open it. He watched her go, his wave of panic ebbing as she disappeared down the long hallway.

Vincent shut the door with a slam, leaning his back against it and carding a hand through his hair in order to tame the unkempt nest that had formed upon his head. Tentatively, his hand ran along the surface of the door until he found the lock, twisting the latch with a soft click. He let out a breath, the tension leaving his shoulders. He couldn’t save himself, so he would at least save her. Holding his head high, he walked back to his seat, the onlookers parting in order to let him through. It gave him a peculiar rush that he both loved and hated at the same time. He was more similar to Dr DeLano than he thought.

“Do you know what’s about to happen to you, 51?” Vincent questioned the subject, who was now sitting limply in the cold steel chair in the middle of the room. Silence. Someone behind him cleared their throat awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something to her, then closed it again, slumping back in his chair as if he had given up trying to be as humane as possible with this girl. “Fine then. Administer the sample.” He commanded dryly, his brow furrowing as he looked down at his notes. He felt a little vulnerable under the scrutinising eyes of both his bosses and his subordinates, but luckily he didn’t have to look at them. His whole focus was now on the girl as two scientists entered the laboratory. One of them was pushing a medical tray, the wheels rattling loudly across the tiles. The syringe on the tray was lifted with a gloved hand, the viscous black liquid shifting about inside the canister. It was thick, and left stains on the sides of the glass tube like an oil slick. Even from here, Vincent could tell the formula was perfect. The non-newtonian nature of the suspension liquid would make it impossible for the subject’s immune system to fight off on its own.

The needle glinted minaciously under the fluorescent ceiling lights. It was easily about five inches long and Vincent felt a burning sense of pity as the subject helplessly attempted to lean away from its sharp point as it was brought closer to her neck. However, his face betrayed no emotion. He furtively looked over at Dr DeLano, whose sneer had widened into a maniacal grin and seemed to be buzzing with some kind of depraved excitement at the spectacle happening before him. Vincent drummed his fingers against his armrest, and he too couldn’t help but lean closer as the needle pierced the girl’s delicate skin. She let out another yell of protest, her body going rigid against the shackles holding her down. The scientist administering the oozing liquid carefully pushed the plunger down until the full dose had been injected into the subject’s bloodstream.

Then her screaming stopped altogether. She was simply staring straight ahead, her eyes vacant. Upon closer inspection, Vincent could see that the veins in her eyes had turned black and were beginning to protrude out of her scleras. The same phenomenon was happening all over her body, emanating from the point where the needle had entered her body. It was spreading through her bloodstream, voraciously consuming her autonomy as if it were alive. Her veins became onyx excrescences, stark against her pale skin. Unnatural. Grotesque. Vincent began scribbling down his observations, stopping every few moments to look back up at the monster he had created.

A concoction of black ooze and saliva began to drip down Subject 51’s chin, pooling up on the floor. She spluttered, making a strangled choking noise as she attempted to breathe against the fluid exiting her nose and mouth, even her ears. It seemed to be attempting to escape from every orifice on her body. Vincent took note of this, attempting to ignore the disgusted feeling brewing in his stomach. The sight was enough to make even the strongest-willed of people feel sick. Perhaps the dosage was too high.

Eventually, the infectious virus that had been administered to her slowed down its takeover, allowing the victim to take a breath. Her eyes held an indelible emptiness to them, a ghostly shell of her former self. It was perfect. All of her autonomy had been ripped away from her, all signs of resistance. It was exactly what they wanted. The entire room had fallen into an impressed silence, except for Dr DeLano who was giggling wildly to himself.

Vincent didn’t quite know what to think. He was ridden with guilt, but it was soon overpowered by the pride and ambition the sight of the girl fuelled inside him. There was a perennial conflict of emotions in his mind, and right now DeLano’s side was winning. He was a terrible person. But oh, he was a talented scientist. Standing up with a blank expression, he walked over to the door, looming in the threshold for a moment as he drank in the feeling of admiration from his peers. He intentionally skipped past looking through the window at what he had done. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it is done.” He deadpanned, before shoving open the door and exiting the room.

#just need a place to yap about my ocs #oc lore #orignal character #original writing

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