It took very little for Tord to settle back in. He expected this, of course, he wouldn't have come back without knowing that Edd would do anything to keep him around. Still, as he pulled the switch to his lab, and watched as the room unfurled to its former glory, he was almost thankful for his luck.

It was with slight reminiscence that he wandered back into the room, his fingers lingering on this countertop and that stack of paper. He was relieved to find nothing seemed out-of-place but was still sceptical that the room could have gone eight years vacant. Especially with Tom in such close proximity.

That was another thing he thanked his luck for. He had certainly not expected Tom to break so quickly, or so explosively. With that man out of the picture there was very little Tord had to worry about. He walked up to the main desk, rummaging through the draws to check he hadn't left anything of particular value, and he immediately recognised a cold smooth weight in his fingers.

The vial he pulled free from the mess of papers and tools was fractured at its neck, it was a wonder how the contents were yet to spill. Even so, it was probably ruined by the slow exposure to oxygen and bacteria. The liquid was thick and viscous, a dull maroon bordering on purple that sloshed lazily when he swirled it.

Tord looked up from the glass to the blueprint directly in front of him, clear concise sketches of what could only be dubbed his very own Frankenstein's monster. He had only ever worked on it out of curiosity, having procured the original serum from some nobody "scientist" (he was using the term extremely loosely) on a business venture in Camden Town. It was originally marketed to him as a new form of steroid, and so he bought it out of pure scientific curiosity. but with a little time and ionisation, he found that the compound had so much more potential.

Thus he spent a good few years developing it in his free time, testing the effects on whatever small animals he could trap in the garden. The effects were unexpectedly purple, but otherwise, he made little break through past the effects listed to him when he bought it. "Gained muscle mass, sides effects of aggression, nausea" but others the seller had forgotten to mention - deterioration of intellect and, in most of his experiments, eventual death.

It bothered Tord slightly knowing that he still lacked so much knowledge on the serum and that after eight years the closest he was to figuring out what it came from was a theory that bordered on conspiracy, and a failed test run of it eight years ago. He had hoped back then that if he used it on its intended recipient species, the result would be closer to revealing what sort of creature or chemical could have these effects, the testosterone in it had to come from something living after all.

A younger, simpler Tord had taken the serum across the hall one night, after a furious internal debate of who he could administer it to. He had wanted it to be some random nobody, someone who wouldn't be noticed or missed if something went wrong, but in that scenario, he would have no way to monitor it, and the experiment would be null. It seemed that there was only one simple solution, so Tord decided on the lesser evil, poisoning the least important and most expendable of his friends.

Back then Tom had also been a less complex person. More easy-going and less likely to drink three bottles of Smirnoff daily. Therefore Tord was lucky enough to find him sleeping when he entered the room. He had approached Tom needle in hand, and it took him reaching the bed to realise the pain would almost certainly wake him up. With a huff Tord glanced around the room, hoping that tom keeps a drink for the nights, or perhaps a late night snack. Finding neither Tord was forced to sneak back out of the room, making his way downstairs with timidity, well aware of the multiple creaky areas. The kitchen was still a right state from the evening's movie night, Matt had decided he was going to bake for it and promptly caused the microwave to explode with cookie dough wrapped in generous amounts of tin foil.

It had been hours and the room still stank of burning. A quick inspection of the fridge had Tord wondering the best way to administer it, he briefly considered Smirnoff, but the reaction and possible dilution of the serum with contact to alcohol were too risky. Instead, he turned to the cupboard, keeping it at room temperature was important to remove variables, so anything in the fridge was a no go. He eventually just pulled out a bottle of apple juice, poured in it the cap, and hoped for the best.

It was reckless, but he could always come up with an excuse or plan if the wrong housemate got the drink, he was Tord after all, he could handle it.

Watching Edd reach for the apple carton that morning he realised that he most certainly couldn't handle it.

"Edd, friend! I have a good idea!" Edd paused suspiciously as Tord put an arm around him. "What about a little, good-natured prank to start the day?" Edd laughed slightly awkwardly as Tord pulled the carton from his hand.

"Sure Tord. What are you going to do?" Edd couldn't help but shake his head at his friends' silly rivalry, but there was no harm in entertaining it.

"The real question is what have I done." Tord grinned, by this point, Matt had fumbled into the kitchen and was looking over curiously from preparing his bowl of cereal. Tord lifted the cartoon to Edd's eye level, swishing it slowly. "Think of the only other liquid that looks like apple juice."

Edd grinned. "You didn't."

"Oh, I did."

"Okay, what am I missing here?" Matt questioned over Tord's shoulder.

Edd laughed out of shock more than anything. "Tord's peed in the apple juice. He's going to let Tom drink it."

Matt gasped, about to question if they were really going to go through with it, but was unable to. Tom was coming down the stairs.

"Morning Tom." Edd offered, sliding into his chair.

Tom grunted in response. Dropping into his chair. Clearly, he hadn't slept well the previous night. Tord and Matt slid into the remaining seats simultaneously, both feeling awkward and a little anxious for entirely different reasons. Matt was buzzing with anticipation, as was Edd. Whereas Tord was buzzing with trepidation.

When Tom reached for the apple juice, Matt let out a high-pitched squeak that had him pause in his tracks. Looking over at the ginger with both confusion and exasperation. It took a moment but Tom began to slowly move for the apple juice again, never breaking eye contact with Matt. He slowly lifted the carton to his glass, scrutinising Matt's grin as he did so. He seemed to question himself as he went to pour it but noticed how both Edd and Tord were watching him from the corners of their eyes and decided on a better approach.

With the hint of a smirk, he chugged straight from the carton, not stopping until he had downed it all. Tom was aware that they were trying to prank him somehow, but considering that he didn't notice anything off about the drink, or that he seriously couldn't give two shits either way, he took pleasure in the shock on his housemates' faces. With that he took his leave, strolling into the next room and just picking up on Edd breaking the silence with a burst of laughter.

Tord took to watching Tom for the next few months, but his careful monitoring bared no results. No mood changes, beside him being more of a dick than usual every so often, no gained muscle or weight, no nausea.

So Tord eventually lost interest and abandoned his work. And then finally, he left.

It had seemed like a lost cause at the time, so in a moment of frustration he had shoved all his research in a draw and left it to rot, now though, his curiosity as peaking again. After all, Tom should not have been able to lift that sofa, let alone throw it a good 20 feet. Either that guy had worked out while Tord was gone, or things had developed in his absence. Tom's lack of muscle mass was a good pointer to the second scenario. But with Tord's return Tom had well and truly removed himself from this area of his life, so finding a way to gather information on him was going to be a challenge. It seemed Tord had a few questions for Edd.

Edd straightened up when Tord walked into the living room, jostling Matt from his place on the back of the couch. Tord tried to put on an air of tension. Edd picked up on it immediately.

"Tord, are you okay?"

Matt looked up from the tv screen at Edd's question.

Tord shook his head softly, walking over. "It's nothing for you to worry about Edd. I'm just..." he paused for effect. " I will confess, I'm worried about Tom... I was trying to stay relaxed so you would not worry yourself, but I can't keep it up." He felt like he was putting on a poor role for some low-grade high school production, but pretending to worry about Tom required an acting skill to rival Marlon Brando.

Edd looked surprised before walking over and placing a hand on Tord's shoulder. "Hey it's okay, you don't need to fake anything for me. If I know Tom he'll be back soon enough, buuut we could go looking for him?" Edd had wanted to do so from the beginning, so he was all too pleased that Tord was seeing his side of things now.

"Where would we even start?"

"He could be at a pub, knowing him he probably would try to cool off with a drink and that's the only place he could go for that."

Tord considered that for a moment. "We would have more luck finding him if we split up, why don't you and Matt take your car, and I'll take mine."

"Sounds good. Come on Matt." Edd had to almost pull Matt from his seat, the man desperate to just finish this episode. But soon they were both out the door, waving as they pulled from the kerb.

Tord grinned back, a sly smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. It was with a relaxed chuckle that his smile turned ominous.

"Okay. Let the manhunt begin."

Tord settled comfortably into the driver's seat, adjusted the rear view mirror and with a flourish of his hand, turned the radio to a frequency that wasn't exactly about to start blaring Duran Duran.

"Red leader? This is De Vries."

"Good. I need you to check security camera's in my area, find me the man with a blue hoodie and black eyes."

The other end went silent for a moment. But then the crackle started up again. "Sure thing boss. Give us a second."

Tord strummed his fingers impatiently on the wheel as he waited for his men to work their magic. It was odd to see the house had been renovated, although two floors did suit him better, having grown used to living in very large quarters.

"Boss?"

"Go ahead."

"We think we have found your man. He wandered into a park on the corner of maple street at 17:24."

That was a whole hour ago. "And he hasn't left yet?"

"No sir."

Tord leant back in his chair, turning the keys in the ignition. "Dismissed men."

"Yes, sir."

Tord could hear slight bickering from the other end of the channel as he cut the feed, no doubt about the nature of what he was up to. Regardless it was irrelevant. He had no time to entertain his soldiers acting like children. He pulled from the kerb with a rumble of the engine, driving off in the exact opposite direction to Edd and Matt.

"Hello, Tom."

Tom barely glanced up at the man approaching, wiping his mouth on his already soaked sleeve. He didn't look well, his hair slick with sweat and hands shaking as he tilted the bottle to his lips. Odd, the shakes and the sweats were symptoms of alcohol withdrawal, so they could not be related to the fact he seemed to be drunk. His brow was set in a grimace as he considered the new company.

"What the fuck do you want." Tom spat between a swig of Smirnoff.

Tord took that as an invitation to step closer. "Your friends are worried you know, I'll confess I am too."

Somehow Tom didn't believe him, maybe the sly grin gave it away.

"Why all the hostilities old friend. Is something wrong?"

Tom threw himself from the bench, his bottle slipping from his grasp and filling the night with the sound of shattering glass. He shook slightly as he glared at Tord.

"Oh, something's very wrong! You're back in our lives without a word of goddamn warning and you've taken my room while you're at it!"

Tord narrowed his eyes, grin holding steady. "As much as I'm enjoying this spectacle, I didn't come here to bring you back to Edd. I have a few questions first Tom."

Tom's eyes narrowed. He slumped back down on the bench with a huff. "Oh yeah? Fucking shoot." he took another swig.

"Have you been having mood swings?"

Tom stopped drinking. And Tord knew he had struck home. He decided to push further.

"Headaches perhaps? Nausea?"

Tom stood up again. "And how the hell would you know about that?"

"You threw a 350-pound sofa through a wall. That was a pretty good clue."

"A clue to what?"

"There was a drug cycling around a decade back now, I looked into it back when it was still popular. From the looks of it, you've got all the symptoms." The lie came easy, it wasn't entirely false after all.

"You think I'm on something? Piss off Tord." He was growing more and more frustrated with the man in red.

"Look look, I'm not assuming anything, I just want to help, figure out what's making you ill so you can stop being distant with your friends. It's hurting Edd."

It was true Tom had taken a step back from his friends recently, but the mood swings were only half of the issue, the real problem was the man in front of him.

"Why don't you get out of here, that would really help."

Tord shook his head. "Classic stupid Tom, I'm the only one who has even an idea of how you are sick, Edd and Matt cannot help, and if you are taking something the hospital is definitely not a good choice."

Tom glared at that, but he couldn't argue against it. "So what do you want?"

Tord knew he had won, "I've got somewhere we can go so I can check you out-"

"I know about your lab." Tord was caught off guard. "I found it a year after you left. You've got some fucked up shit in there."

"I can't say I'm surprised. Then I suppose you won't be shocked if you know that I've been pursuing my inventions during my time in the city. I've got a place better suited to medical stuff if you would come."

Tom seemed conflicted. "What about Edd and Matt?."

Tord smiled "We'll only be a few hours, they won't even notice me gone. And then we can go back home. And you won't have to worry about your relationship with Matt and Edd anymore."

Tom eventually nodded and stood up, swaying slightly. He let Tord lead the way.

The walk out of the park was uneventful, Tord stopping every so often to watch Tom stumble and be ready to help him up if needed. Luckily they didn't have to walk long, Tord coming to a stop at the hood of a red Vauxhall Astra. Tom raised a brow.

"Hold on, just how far is this place?"

Tord shrugged off the question, pulling open the passenger door as he walked to the driver's side. "Only a half hour at most, don't worry over little things."

Tom wasn't convinced but climbed in any way, relaxing into the worn leather like it might as well have been an Aston Martin. As the yellow glow of street lamps flashed past the windows, Tom wouldn't realise he fell asleep till Tord pulled up outside their destination.

Tom looked around the place with unmasked amazement. "Where the hell did you get the money for this?" The room had to be about 40x40 and was crammed full of tables and countertops, all coated in medical and scientific equipment. It reminded tom of more of a lab than a clinic, looking like the old chemistry room at Orleans Park Secondary. Tord led him over to an exam table.

"Government funding." Tord lied easily. "You cure one disease and sudden money is being thrown at you from all directions."

Tord pulled some latex gloves and a syringe from the adjacent draw, automatically making Tom tenser. Tord noticed this and grinned, whilst Tom huffed at him. Tord was, unsurprisingly, an asshole when taking the blood sample. Without warning, he all but stabbed Tom's arm with the syringe. Taking immense pleasure as Tom yelped and glared daggers at the man. He ignored Tom's indignant mumbling as he walked over to a microscope, using a pipette to drop a tiny amount on his slide.

It was incredible. Looking at Tom's DNA there wasn't any way to identify it as human. Tord may as well have a sample from a jellyfish for all it was worth. And yet Tom didn't look any different than he did eight years ago. It made Tord wonder if the process just simply took this long because that would not do. He needed to know more. Has Tom ever mutated physically like he thought he would? Had he ever had bursts of memory loss or random pain? He needed to hear that it had some effect other than changing his insides. It can't have all been for nought like this.

"Tom, I think I know what's been causing your sickness. But I need some more information first before I jump to any conclusions."

"Could you stop being so vague and just tell what is going on."

"You're going to have to just trust me on this."

Tom burst out laughing. It was bitter and completely understandable. Tord opted to ignore that. Instead, he pulled out his pager, discretely altering his two best men that he might need their assistance. You can never be too safe.

"Tom, have you ever experienced extended periods of memory loss?"

Tom seemed uncomfortable with the question, shifting in his seat and reaching into his hoodie for a bottle that wasn't there.

"..Yeah. It was a few months back, our neighbours had installed a radioactive satellite dish on their roof."

Radioactive?

"Edd got super powers for the day, and he and Eduardo, the guy from next door, got into a fight over the city. It was like two toddlers throwing nukes at each other. Matt and I got dragged into it and I ended up taking a punch that sent me from Soho to Trafalgar." Tord couldn't help but wince. "And I remember getting up from the fall, but then nothing. One minute I'm lying in an alley the next I'm in the middle of Hyde park with my hair singed and matt spewing shit about a monster."

Now that sounds promising.

"A monster?"

Tom shrugged. "Yeah apparently, Edd fought it but it was Eduardo that killed it, they said it was huge and only had one eye. I still don't know if they're just fucking with me."

Bingo.

Tord reached a hand into his hoodie pocket, fumbling with the cracked vial. Decision time. Tord was desperate to know more, he was so close to getting the big answers he wanted eight years back, aching for now. He discreetly punctured the vial's cap with a spare syringe, carefully pulling the plunger back as he walked back over to Tom.

He would probably regret this later, but one way or the other Tom would be out of the picture and that suited Tord just fine.

He strolled casually closer, offhandedly chatting on. "Sounds like you missed out. If there was a monster like that in London, I doubt it could stay hidden for long. Who knows, it might resurface sooner rather than later."

Tom shrugged, uneasy with making small talk with his enemy. "Whatever, can you focus please, I'd rather get out of here and away from you as soon as possible."

Tord flicked his nose in response, laughing uncaring as the other man fumed. "We're almost done, idiot." His grin turned sadistic. "Only one...more... test."

With Tord quickly pulled the needle from his pocket, grabbing Tom's arm as he thrust it in. Tom yelled and tried to break away, but Tord was stronger, with years in the military behind him, and pushed the plunger down with a triumphant grin.

Tom collapsed, falling from the exam table with a thud. Tord stood over him ominously, the blue light of the overhead LED fluorescents casting his face in shadow. Tom rived at his feet and he couldn't help but laugh, proud to have put his enemy in such a state.

That was until Tom began to scream.

Tord stepped back, afraid he had administered too much, or that Tom's body couldn't handle the second dose. He soon realised it was neither of those things and promptly fled as Tom's bones began to snap.

Tord sprinted away, finding cover behind a countertop. He hid frozen, arms spread against the wall, as the sound of screaming grew quiet, and growling took its place. He gripped the edge as he peered over the top. Eyes locked onto a hulking black monstrosity between the flasks and beakers. Despite the sudden and perilous situation, he found himself in, he was laughing ecstatically as he slipped back down. "Holy shit." He breathed through the adrenaline rush.

The creature's chest was heaving as it sank it's claws into the ground, whining in the aftermath of his transformation. Everything about it looked lethal. It has a muscular torso similar to a pit bull or boxer, clearly built less for speed and more for power. From the looks of its head's square shape, it had a locking jaw like a bulldog, something to definitely avoid. Once it had a hold on something that mouth would need to be pried off.

Despite the majority of its body being coating in a fine layer of coarse hair, it's throat and upper head had an almost fluffy ruff, clearly to protect the weak point that is the jugular and skull. The creature stood up, it's short, bulky tail swaying lazily as it took a few tentative steps. Tord noticed it was walking with its head lowered, driving forward with its horns as if it was using them to avoid running into something, was that to make up for its lack of depth perception?

Watching it Tord could definitely see how it would hunt, the front paws were about a meter and a half wide, in comparison to its small hind feet, that had to be no bigger than 80 centimetres. It almost appeared disproportionate, and would obviously rely on pinning down prey before finishing it off with a single crushing bite.

Those teeth were going to be an issue.

The creature- Tom, sniffed the air and his head whipped round in Tord's direction. Tord didn't even have time to curse before the beast was upon him. He screamed as he flew round the corner of the table, Tom bounding behind him like a seven-tonne puppy after a cat. Tom's shoulder smashed into the cabinets overhead and Tord barely avoided the rain of splintered plastic. Tord skidded as he weaved through the maze of medical cabinets and worktops, landing on his arse in a tight square of tables.

He could hear Tom pounding at the other side of the desk he was leant against. And gasped as one of Tom's huge claws scratched blindly for him through the gap between the table and the ceiling cabinets. Tord leant round the corner, hoping to see just how close Tom was to him. And came in direct line of Tom's left paw. It could be said that Tom flicked Tord's nose. If you would consider a foot long claw slashing his face from cheek to forehead as such.

Tord screamed as he fell backwards, grasping at his left eye which was now blinded by blood. He didn't have time to dwell on it though, as the counter began to rock with the force of Tom ramming against it. Tord squeezed through the opposite gap and crawled for the far left of the room, all too relieved that Tom hadn't seemed to notice his escape just yet.

He was all too aware of the sound of Tom growling and smashing his precious equipment behind him, but tried to focus on just reaching the table in the corner. He heard a cabinet collapse and the crash of Tom climbing over it, his bulking form pressing to the ceiling as he scaled the obstacle. By now he had noticed the absence of his target and was searching the room for the missing man.

Tord reached his goal with a barely stifled "yes." and began to rummage in the drawer. Searching the neat stacks of bottles. The labels were extremely difficult to read with his impaired vision, but he swiftly found the tranquillizer he wanted. A strong enough dose of this could put down an elephant, although he more commonly used it as a small dose anaesthetic for injured soldiers.

Just in time too, as Tom had begun to make his way over to where Tord was crouching. He forced himself to wait, fingers poised on the plunger and ready to pounce. He tried to breathe steadily as the sound of lumbering strides grew closer, and then took his chance. He caught Tom off guard, stabbing him a third time, hoping the saying was correct and praying it would work. Unfortunately for him, he had no god to hear it and was promptly thrown against a wall.

He groaned as he tried to sit up, opening his eye to see the monster hurtling towards him. He involuntarily flinched at the sight and blacked out for a second as he smashed his head against the counter. That was all Tom needed to pin him down.

Tord's chest was heaving as he reached up to the countertop, his hand fumbling desperately for purchase on any sort of weapon whilst Tom's heavy paw pressed down on his legs. Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to do, and tom bit down on the moving target. Tord couldn't contain his scream as tom locked his jaw around his left arm. And he grew even louder as tom began to pull, shaking his head to and fro like a dog with a chew toy. The pain was excruciating, and Tord put all his remaining energy into punching Tom's big stupid eye. Clawing at it in an attempt to make him let go. Oh god just let go.

Tom grunted as Tord bombarded him, and responded by grabbing his head, hoping to stop the irritant by restraining it further.

His giant hand clamped around Tord's face and he could feel as the left side of his face was parted by the claws, skin and flesh splitting into shreds under the immense pressure and Tom adjusting his grip.

"Red leader!"

Tord couldn't see but he knew those voices. Sargent's De Vries and Dunajski were clamouring in through the doorway. Having been making the journey over when they first heard the sound of a skirmish. Tord would have sighed in relief if he could. Thank fuck those two were here.

Honestly, the sight they walked in on was grim. Shock waves of medical debris circling the scene at its epicentre. Tord offered a strained smile to his men, but the gesture meant little, the beast pressing him into the floor being a bit more eye drawing. Patryck's hands flew to his mouth, stifling his gasp in an attempt to avoid alerting the creature. Paul was a little less tactful. He slid over a table, running furiously at the monster, gun in hand. Its head whipped round to face him, pulling Tord's entire arm with it. The one eye almost made Paul stop in his tracks, And the beast began to bound its way over to the new target. Thankfully leaving (most of) Tord behind. Paul let out a battle cry as he sped head first at the colossal beast.

With eyes squeezed shut he began to pump lead in its direction, yelling all the while, and heard a crash as it fumbled. However when he opened his eyes it was clear he had not hit his mark, rather the target had tripped on an overturned gurney and was now skidding across the floor, smashing into worktops and countless beakers as it went. It took a last-minute dive to avoid being crushed as it barrelled past, eventually coming to rest metres from a tense and poised Patryck. His finger sat braced on the trigger, the barrel dead on the things large void-like eye.

Luck seemed to shine on them at that moment though, because the creature stayed down, rasping with strained breaths as if the tumble had been less of a trip and more of a missile to the chest. Patryck was not going to take any chances, and fired a round into one of its colossal paws, hoping it would not be back on its feet anytime soon.

As soon as he was sure it was safe the man sprinted across the room, kneeling beside his leader.

"Oh my god." He put shaking hands to the man's neck, checking for a pulse despite the fact that said man was staring up at him with hazy eyes. Or rather, eye. He did not look good, and the sheer amount of blood he was sitting in didn't make it any better. He needed surgery fast.

Paul joins him at his leader's side. "Red leader! Can you hear us?"

Tord groaned and mumbled something incoherent. Patryck gently slapped his cheek as he radioed for medical attention. "Sir please try to focus and stay awake."

Paul was pressing his face close to Tord's, trying to make out what the man was saying. He flinched back as Tord spat up blood, and was slightly shocked when his leader grinned. Looking up at nothing in particular. Tord spoke again.

"He's fucking glorious."

As Paul shouted out for the help to hurry up, Tord fell unconscious.