Chapter 7: Gamble & "New Friends"
50/Autumn/1666/ Azure Retreat, Room 348, 5:47am
The air hung heavy with the thick smell of viscera, a unique aroma that assaulted the senses in layers. The predominant scent was that of fat, reminiscent of rancid butter, its pungency lingering in the air like an unpleasant aftertaste. This was accompanied by the metallic tang of blood, cutting through the heaviness with its invigorating sharpness. Underlying it all was the sickly-sweet smell of decay, a foreboding hint of the inevitable onset of rot.
To Lucas, the scene before him felt like something straight out of a horror film, but he was too engrossed in the results of his experiments to dwell on the macabre atmosphere. Continuing his investigations through the night, he cautiously concluded that the pill was maybe, possibly likely safe.
Using the first rodent as a control group, Lucas proceeded to experiment with a different animal, this time opting for the small ape. The results mirrored those of the initial experiment, albeit the ape let out incredibly loud cries and screeches during the initial stages of transformation. Regardless, Lucas opted not to immediately dissect the ape to examine any possible long term ramifications of the process.
For his second experiment of the night, Lucas sought to determine a possible method to ease the transformation process. If he were to acquire an "invulnerable" skeleton, he wanted it to be as painless as possible. However, he encountered his first obstacle: he lacked any trust in the medicine of this era, especially considering his unfamiliarity with the chemicals and plants of this world. Lucas hesitated to rely on any pain medication or remedies considering that they could potentially do more harm than good.
With a simple solution in mind, Lucas turned to alcohol, apparently given enough time humans will invent alcohol regardless of world. Lucas had known that it had been widely used throughout history as a pain reliever, and luckily for him, his room came with an exorbitant amount of complimentary high-proof liquor. After ensuring that the rodent had become thoroughly intoxicated without succumbing to alcohol poisoning, he administered the pill. To his delight, the results appeared promising.
In its inebriated state, the rodent reacted differently to the transformation process. Instead of exhibiting signs of excruciating agony, as it had previously, the creature seemed to cope with the ordeal noticeably easier. Rather than writhing in pain as if its skin were being slowly peeled away while submerged in boiling acid, it simply appeared as though its fingernails, toenails, and teeth were being extracted with rusty pliers.
As the potential to mitigate a significant portion of the pain associated with the transformation process became apparent, the temptation to consume one of the pills grew even stronger and stronger within Lucas. He had always been the type of person who daydreamed about superpowers, superheroes, and villains, pondering how he would utilize the abilities of characters from his favorite stories. Now, with the possibility of obtaining a superpower seemingly within his grasp, he would be foolish to pass up such an opportunity. [After all, what was the worst that could happen? Death?] Having experienced death a few times already, the fear had begun to diminish slightly. After all, he seemed to be immortal, or at least had as many lives as a cat.
Necking 14 shots of the strongest-tasting alcohol he could find, Lucas made his way to the master bedroom, ensuring he positioned himself on the bed in a way that minimized the risk of choking on his own vomit. As he waited for the alcohol to take effect, Lucas steeled himself for the impending transformation. Fifteen minutes later, feeling sufficiently sloshed, Lucas swallowed the pill, preparing himself for what he anticipated would be the most agonizing experience of his life. And he was right.
At first, it began as the strangest sensation, it wasn't his skin that itched, but his bones. The itch intensified, becoming more unbearable than any other Yet, he found himself completely unable to alleviate it, as it was buried beneath layers of flesh and muscle. In that moment, a memory from his childhood surfaced: "Didn't you know that itching is the lowest form of pain?"
***
It had been three hours since he had swallowed the pill, and the sensation in his bones grew unbearable. Have you ever seen a colony of ants meticulously tear apart the corpse of a significantly larger animal? Lucas found himself consumed by an irrational jealousy towards that corpse. The thought of exchanging places and experiencing the meticulous dissection by a colony of ants seemed almost heavenly.
[Some people perceive bones as simple unfeeling inanimate objects within the body, and I would very much like to strangle such people. Bones are indeed very much alive and capable of experiencing a variety of ‘wooonderful sensations, most notably excruciating pain. After all, why else would broken bones hurt so much?] It was during this bout of irrational anger that Lucas lost consciousness.
***
"Hey, what are you doing? This is trespassing!"
Enoch took his badge from his coat pocket and flashed it in the face of the receptionist as he continued his way through the building. The receptionist seemed to purposely ignore it and continued to berate him asking him to leave, asking him for his name and the name of his superior. Not wanting to deal with this himself Enoch gestured to Silas, who stayed back and stopped the receptionist from continuing any further, allowing Enoch and the ‘creepy brat’ to move forward unimpeded.
[327... 334... 346... 348.]
Enoch paused in front of the door, and briefly considered.[He doesn't seem to be hiding, he even stayed in his usual hotel.]
His hand reached out to test the knob finding it locked, he swiftly retrieved a set of lock picks, his movements deft and practiced. In a moment, the door yielded to his expertise, unlocking as fast as a person with the proper key. With a subtle gesture toward the brat, he signaled him to be ready for hostile contact. Pressing his ear against the door, Enoch listened intently for any signs of movement within. Hearing nothing but silence, he nodded to his far too young fellow officer, and with practiced movements, they entered the room. It smelled exactly like the dumpster behind a butcher shop, the overpowering stench of decay and blood assaulting their senses. Enoch couldn't help but feel a slight grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he withdrew his revolver.
Systematically maneuvering through the environment, Enoch remained vigilant, his senses heightened for any potential threats lurking in the shadows. Each step was deliberate, every movement calculated as he navigated the room. Every passing moment, Enoch committed the macabre scene to memory, taking in the details of the surroundings as he made his way toward the master bedroom.
***
Lucas was enveloped in a dense haze of grogginess and nausea. His head was throbbing, his senses dulled by the aftermath of the worst hangover of his life. Each movement sent waves of discomfort rippling through his body, a reminder of the torture he had endured last night —an ordeal he wouldn't wish upon even his greatest enemy. Despite the faint sound of voices and the sensation of movement, it seemed insignificant, his mind and body yearned for rest over anything else.
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The sharp smell of ammonia sliced through Lucas's foggy mind like a hot knife through butter. As his eyes fluttered open, his initial thought was that he must have been watching too many detective films recently. [Why else would he be seeing what he was seeing?]
He found himself seated and manacled in what appeared to be an interrogation room, facing two individuals who could have stepped straight out of a Hollywood movie. The first, holding the smelling salts to his nose was a petite, doll-like woman. Her blonde hair cascaded around her porcelain face, framing a pair of striking blue eyes that seemed larger than life. Complimenting her doll-like appearance, there was a distinct aura of formality about her, accentuated by impeccably tailored attire that displayed a preference for men's fashion.
Seated opposite Lucas was a man who exuded an air of casual confidence, tipping back in his chair with his legs propped up on the table. His face bore a slight smile as if he found amusement in observing Lucas's reactions. With tousled light brown hair and strikingly handsome features, his face reminded Lucas of the lead actor from the recent Doone remakes, albeit about 20% more masculine and sporting a perpetually cocky smile.
"Mornin'. Did’ya have a good nap? I assume so, you didn't stir in the slightest during our little trip." the handsome man greeted, his tone casual yet tinged with an air of curiosity.
Lucas's head was still swimming as he asked. "Who are you people? Where exactly am I?"
Enoch ceased his tipping in the chair, allowing it to settle back to its natural state, and turned to Silas, the grin spreading further across his face. "Well, isn't that interesting?" He turned back to Lucas, his smile widening even more. " Enoch, the pretty young man to my right is Silas. We're detectives working under the ESP. Ring any bells?"
Despite the fog in his mind, Lucas knew he was in a bad position. It was clear by the tone of his questions that Solomon should have known this Enoch character or at the very least the organization he worked for. Attempting to lie about something he had no information on would likely lead to an even worse position. As Lucas pondered his next move, a shiver crept down his spine, a chill born from the unsettling intensity of Enoch's gaze. The detective's eyes bore into him with a laser-like focus, their movements possessing an otherworldly fluidity as they darted between his features, scrutinizing every subtle movement.
Lucas couldn't shake the feeling of unease that washed over him. The way Enoch observed him was nothing short of terrifying. With a sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach, Lucas thought that if he didn't possess a world-class poker face, Enoch would likely have already uncovered his laptop password, his mother's maiden name, the street name of his childhood home, and perhaps even more. He quickly understood that silence was his only answer, Any hastily concocted response would likely be torn to shreds by the man across the table.
"No answer? Well, regardless, that's not the point of this questioning," Enoch continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "We're here to question you on why you escaped house arrest, going strictly against the deal your family negotiated for you. Remember, we caught you violating the agreement, so no matter what, you're doing time. But answering our questions might allow you to justify your case, decreasing the severity of your offense."
Lucas remained silent, at this Enoch turned to Silas and began to laugh ."Is there really any reason to do this? I know how useful it would be to catch him red-handed in some sort of verbal trap, but after talking to him for just a few seconds, I realized how unnecessary this all is. I've engaged in pleasant conversation with ‘Young Master Hawthorne’ on many an occasion, but even someone who's only met him once would know that this is not him. The tone of voice, the control of facial expression, the posture, and general demeanor. I may not know what ‘it’ is but I know for a fact it is not Solomon Hawthorne. Not to mention what we found in his hotel room or what about the divinations in the first place?"
Silas did not respond only furrowing his brows slightly
"Procedure, whatever," Enoch grumbled, his frustration evident. "All I need from you now is for you to correctly answer at least three of these following questions. What is your date of birth? What is the full name of your great-grandmother on your mother's side? When and for what reason did we first meet? What is the name of your manor’s head chef? How many horses does your family own, and what breeds are they? What is the crest of the family that your fiancée belongs to? Maybe those are all too hard. How about, how old are you? What is your family known for? Name at least five prominent nobles who are close friends of yours."
Lucas remained silent, his despair growing with each passing moment. There was no way he could lie his way out of this
"See? Boom, definitely not Solomon," Enoch remarked, gesturing towards Lucas with both hands. "Go get Antonio his ability would come in real handy right about now in determining whatever this is."
"Sure he should be in the office, I'll go grab him."
Enoch and Lucas sat in the room in silence, minutes passed by, tension thick in the air, until Silas reentered the room, followed by a man with disproportionately large eyes. The man had a dark complexion, his curly, long hair reminiscent of a lion's mane. He had a face, which would have been considered handsome if not for the strikingly large, owl-like eyes. His body was wiry and thin, his appearance and mannerisms gave off an aura of someone too afraid to leave their own house, evident in the obvious paranoia with which he observed the room.
Enoch gestured toward Lucas and asked "So what do you make of our new friend"
The man's deep voice resonated in the room, tinged with a hint of fear and tension, "Definitely anomalous. First and foremost, judging by his volume, bone shape, fat and muscle ratios, and typical density ranges for these variables, he should weigh around 98.76834 kg to 98.01527 kg. Yet, instead, he weighs an unusually light 85.15379 kg. Based on the volume & density of his fat, connective tissue, skin, and muscle, this should be impossible. His bones seem rather anomalous as I find it difficult to discern their mass, although their volume is clear to me as you can derive it from the surrounding flesh. From my observations, the subject's bones seem to have the ability to resist my efforts to examine them, subsequently also acting as a barrier, as it is, it seems that it would be impossible to examine through the bone, making it not feasible for me to gather direct data on the subject's brain. Judging by the amount of strain of the muscle on the neck and upper back, as well as the average volume and density of a brain of a male of his volume and theoretical non-anomalous weight, it seems to hit normal parameters. His blood has significantly higher than typical amounts of ethanol, BAC around 00.13427. Other anomalies would include the presence of calcium hydroxyapatite powder in the stomach, large and small intestine, esophageal lining, as well as minute presences in the blood around those regions."
"Besides the weirdly light bones, is there anything else out of the ordinary, like a parasite or some kind of spirit shenanigans?" Enoch inquired.
"Possibly, but I find no indication of it, other than the bone-related abnormalities this specimen is consistent with typical human parameters. But I should mention, although I'm not sure if this is significant information to you, I have met Solomon Hawthorne once. I was sent to aid in an investigation similar to this. Disregarding the anomalous weight, there are other inconsistencies. It is clear to me that this Solomon is 01.42149 cm taller than when I met him, which is very unusual for a male of 21 years, 7 months, 3 days, 14 hours, 49 minutes, and 17 seconds old to grow that amount in 1 month, 7 days, 5 hours, 27 minutes in 36 seconds. Although such an event is not impossible just rather rare, what I find more interesting is his body shape, bone position, organ ratios, nerve /vein layout, muscle insertions, muscle-fat ratio, hair follicle quantity and texture deviate by an average of 08.59736% from recorded data. "
"So, what, a secret twin or something?"
"I do not know. Although the data could be consistent with that of a twin, I do not have enough data to make any concrete conclusions. Can I leave now?".
"Sure, buddy. Just after you give him a threat assessment,"
"Danger grade 02.0200, low novice. Although there are a few parameters that are impossible to measure at the current moment, causing the possibility to range up to Mid-novice," Antonio concluded.
"Thanks for the help, remind me next time that drinks are on me,"
After Antonio quietly left the room, Enoch yet again locked eyes with Lucas. "Still wanting to play silent?"
After a short tense silence, Lucas croaked, "What do you want?"