sTiMuLi
"…It has been five whole days since the death of Frank. As nearly the entire population of the Shane's Frontal Lobe has stopped its activity to focus on the mourning of Frank, the rest of Shane Metropolis has slowed in its activity. Though 90% of Shane's Metropolis does feel sincerely mournful towards this horrible tragedy, they have chosen to move on in hopes of a brighter future…
In other news, the legislature is having another meeting concerning Shane's issues with Frank's funeral arrangements and the agent from child welfare. Stay tuned as we head on over to live feed from this emergency meeting…"
The she-cell's voice came in garbled and confusing. Jones opened his eyes and the blinding gold ceiling light above his head spun wildly. He groaned, holding back a gag. His head ached and felt like it was shattered despite his elastic-like body composition. When Jones's blurry vision cleared slightly he found himself on the ugly, itchy area rug of some apartment with his limbs lying out in awkward positions. Jones got up shakily.
"Aww…man…whut th'Frank hit me?" he whispered.
"Me, Mr. Jones," said a dark voice from close by.
Jones's mind shot into full gear as he jumped upright, staggering and eventually stumbling down to the floor again. Everything around him kept doubling and spinning out of control. He looked to where the voice came from and saw the hazy twin figures of Thrax sitting an armchair a few feet away.
"Y-you…" Jones muttered bewilderedly. But soon he steadied and his voice came out as a harsh growl. "You!"
Thrax's brows creased and he flashed a toothy grin, "Yes, me, Jones. Surprised?"
"How are you still alive?" he asked, his voice raising. "You fell into a glass of alcohol—you should've died!
The virus played with the Hypothalamus chain and said pleasantly, "You saw the falsie fall into the alcohol. I managed to rip my hand out before I fell."
Jones shut his eyes tightly and when he opened them again Thrax's twin figures morphed back into one vexing figure that was reclining back leisurely with legs crossed. He looked around the apartment, confused. Thrax said aloud the thought that was Jones's mind, "Do you know where you are right now?"
Jones looked around again. The apartment living room they were in was rather big but sparsely decorated. The couch stood in the middle of the room with the rug in front of it and the matching armchair that Thrax sat in stood beside a wide single pane window. There was an empty table near what Jones assumed to be the entry door behind him. An old fashioned TV with crooked antennas sat on top a chest of drawers opposite of the couch. It was backed up against a wall with two doors on either side of it.
If Jones didn't know any better he would have said he was in his own apartment back in downtown Frank except it was completely cleaned out of the mess he usually had laying around.
"You're in Shane Metropolis, Jones," Thrax said to him and caused him to snap his head up in attention. "After I got loose from that falsie I flew back up and followed you back to Frank. I saw you falling, and I knew you still had my chain. I couldn't let you get back inside, now could I? So before you even made it past the guy's lips I flew up and—BAM!"
He struck the back of his hand to create a loud smacking sound for emphasis.
"I hit you so hard upside the head that your head practically ripped off your body! I grabbed you and flew into the girl's mouth while she was sniveling over her dead daddy," Thrax sneered, his lips curling back over his teeth. "You should've heard her, Jones. She was so sad. It breaks my heart to see a poor little girl all alone in the world without a daddy…so I've been planning a little surprise for her."
Thrax's face suddenly brightened and he pointed out the television to Jones when an announcement said, "The funeral arrangements have been decided. But as for Shane's new place of residence, we have yet to decide on which side of the family to have her live with..."
Jones's eyes darted towards the television across the room. An image that only stayed on for a second caused his eyes to grow wide in horror.
"We are leaning in favor of Shane's maternal side of the family. But we are having some difficulty with this favorability due half the legislature wanting to stay with the paternal side. Reasons for that are that Frank was all Shane had left of her closest family, and they believe that it is better for Shane to live with whoever was the next closest relative of her father's..."
Frank lay beneath a blue sheet on a metal table, his face gray and his lips purple. A line of dark black stitches sewn over a deep cut down the middle of his chest peeked from beneath the sheet.
Jones's body slumped and he stared into space in fearful disbelief. Thrax leaned back in his chair with a smile of victory on his face. He intertwined his clawed fingers and watched in amusement at the white blood cell's stunned reaction.
Jones sat frozen on the floor but when he looked over at Thrax, who gave a chuckle and wiggled his claws in greeting, he clambered to his feet—pulling out the gun from its halter around his ankle and aimed it right in between Thrax's eyes. Jones breathed raggedly, the gun shaking in his hand.
"You…" he growled threateningly. "I'M GONNA BLOW YO DAMN HEAD OFF!!!"
Thrax knocked the gun out of Jones's hand, the blast shattering the window next to him, and punched Jones in the stomach and used a single backhand to knock him back onto the floor. Thrax wasted no time in beating the cytoplasm out of the immunity cell until the features of his face and body were practically beaten into disfigurement. With Jones groaning and breathing harshly in pain, Thrax pinned down Jones's shoulders with his knees and held his glowing talon barely a centimeter from Jones's forehead. He tsked in mock pity.
"Aww…poor, poor Osmosis Jones," Thrax mocked in a babying voice. "Lookit you. All alone now 'cause you FAILED to save your precious Frank City."
When Thrax spat out the word 'failed', Jones glared at him hatefully and struggled against the weight that pinned him down. Thrax frowned at the effort and punched him in the head, causing him to grunt in agony. But Jones continued to struggle. Thrax watched him in genuine amazement of his unfaltering determination.
He let out an amused scoff and said, "How does it feel, Jones? To know that you, of all the pathetic cells living in that disgusting body, got to play a part in my grand plan to etch myself deep into medical history? Your complete FAILURE turned out to be my greatest success. Huh—forget all those other small-fry. Frank was the BIG one! He was just one of the first steps on the ladder of makin' big history for me! Forty-eight hours flat, can you believe it Jones? The next one's gonna be within the 30-hour time span. Ooh-hooo! That's gonna be so much fun, baby!"
"I'm not gonna let you kill Shane!" Jones spat out angrily.
"I'll be doin' her a favor," Thrax said. "I've heard her complaints jones. The entire Metropolis has. She misses her mommy and daddy. And I mean she really misses them. Shane wishes that their deaths never even happened and that they could be one big happy family again. I was touched by her bawling. And with me being the kind man that I am, I'm gonna grant Shane her wish and help her be with her parents like she wants."
"No!" Jones yelled and dug his fingers deep into Thrax's knees.
Thrax winced and struck Jones on the head again, his talon blazing even brighter as it barely touched Jones's face. Jones's fingers refused to release themselves but Thrax ignored it and grinned.
"You wanna know what they did to Frank?" he said tauntingly. "They took X-rays, PET Scans, CT Scans—almost everything you think of. They checked every single part of him to find out what the hell killed him. They even cut him up and took a look at every single organ he had. But you wanna know something? They couldn't find a damn thing! I was very disappointed Jones. Especially when that jackass…"
Thrax suddenly grew even more vicious and got off of Jones only to pick him up by the neck and slam him against a wall a few times.
"Do you know what they blamed his death on?!" Thrax screamed. "They blamed his death on fucking malaria!"
Jones was slammed repeatedly against the wall until he saw stars in his eyes from the impacts and the lack of oxygen from the hand wrapped tightly around his throat. When Thrax finally stopped, he sneered into Jones's face.
"I'm gonna to kill that entire hospital," Thrax hissed. "I'm gonna kill every single damn person this lil' bitch comes into contact with! And you…you are gonna watch every moment of it Jones!"
He flung Jones across the floor and stood over him with rage engulfing his features. Jones lay gasping in pain, glaring at Thrax with hatred.
"You one sick freak," Jones spit out. "You gonna keep me alive just t'watch chu kill all those people?"
Thrax relaxed and looked down at him. He ran his claws through his dreadlocks and said pleasantly, "Oh, that's not the only reason why I chose t'keep you alive."
"Then what for?" Jones asked angrily.
"As a playmate."
The answer was said so easily and quickly that Osmosis didn't register it fast enough. But once he did, he looked at Thrax in disgust and moved as far away as possible. Thrax saw the expression on his face and let out a scornful laugh.
"Ahahahahaaaaa! Jones, you don't honestly think that I meant it in that way do you? And you call me a sick freak? That's funny! That's really funny!"
As Thrax laughed Jones looked around for his gun but found it near Thrax's heel. He got onto his knees then used the nearby table to help him get to his feet. He had to get that gun somehow.
"So," he said resentfully. "In what way do you mean by 'playmate'?"
Thrax held up the Hypothalamus chain that was wrapped around his wrist. "You see all these little beads of DNA? Each one of them is a memory of a victim I killed off and for each one, not a single damn cell—out of trillions living in each victim—did anything to stop me. None of them realized I was even there until it was way too late. But you, my good man, actually found me out."
The virus walked closer to Jones as he spoke, leaning in closely. "You made my job even more fun! Your pathetic attempt to stop me gave me a bit of a challenge, made the game more interesting, you know what I'm sayin'? So I brought you here, to Shane Metropolis, to play in a new game but with the same rules: I destroy the body and you try to stop me. Now doesn't that sound like fun?"
Jones shoved him back, moving past and around him until he felt his foot tap lightly against the barrel of his gun. He morphed his battered body back into place and stood firm saying, "Yeah, that sounds like a spit-load o' fun yo ugly baboon butt-faced, girly locked, glowy nail-polished freak."
"Oh, come now. There's not need for childish wise cracks," Thrax scolded. "Jones, this is a big boy's game! I suggest you grow up 'fore you end up in a disadvantage."
"Don't count on it!" Jones kicked his gun up into his hand and fired several shots at Thrax. Thrax dodged each shot with and rushed forward—his talon blazing. He sliced the gun barrel in half, giving Jones a hard roundhouse kick in the side which sent him flying into the television in the other side of the room. The television's screen shattered and sparked, the electrical charge shocking Jones into unconsciousness.
Thrax stood over his limp body, shaking his head.
"Mmh-mmh-mmh…" he hummed in disappointment. He sighed as he straightened out his coat. "This game was way too short-lived, Jones! Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. But I bet I'm gonna get a real kick outta this one!"
He crouched down and made a swipe at Jones's throat. But as he did so, Jones suddenly sprung back to life and grabbed his wrist, shoving his talon deep into what was left of the gun.
"RRRAAAAGH!!!!" Thrax bellowed. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH A'YOU!!!"
Jones used both his heels to knock Thrax backwards before the virus could get a hold of him.
"Later, suckah!" he shouted over his shoulder as he ran out the room.
The gun melted and boiled on Thrax's talon. He flung it across the room and shielded himself just as the gun exploded, blowing up a small portion of the building.
Amid smoke and flames, Thrax crawled out from under a pile of debris. He gave himself a rough pat down to get the dirt off his coat and he said to himself, "So it's still on is it?"
A smirk broke onto his face as he fished his sunglasses out of his coat pocket and placed them over his eyes.
"Heh—then game on, baby!"