The dark figure escaped from the forensics labs with the evidence in his gloved hands. He ran towards the street and darted across the tarmac. A car speeding down the road smashed the breaks hard to prevent running over the dark figure.
'Just in time…'
Screeching and swerving, burning rubber on the tarmac before coming to a halt. The birdman just stood in front, nearly inches away from the hood, gazing at the driver while placing the file and vial in his coat. The driver had a face of panic, in fear of almost hitting a pedestrian. He bolted out of the car, his red hair almost bouncing out of place.
"Hey!" The man screeched. "Why did you get in the road like that?! I could've hit you!"
"I am simply in need of a ride…" The man announced behind his mask.
"You couldn't have just waved for a taxi on the sidewalk!?" The man bobbed his head while continuing his shrill, "You know it's kinda dangerous to be out there in the streets…"
The red haired man finally collected himself after a bit and eyed the mystery figure up and down. "That's a pretty cool getup. I've always been interested in masked men ever since I was a kid. But I've worn better."
"Is that so?" The birdman turned directly to face the driver, hiding the grimace behind the white and black metallic mask.
"Yeah…" The squeamish man gave a shy smile as he shrugged his arms forward, "Green, red and white, stylish and glamorous, with a bigger and more brim hat with a golden brooch." He almost appeared proud.
"Really now?" The man replied sarcastically.
"Yes! I was called Masque De Mask! Sneakiest thief who can get away with not only stealing the most prized of treasures but from the best of authority! I even had a silver metal mask, but it was opened at the mouth." He boasted with the same shy smile. "Had to give the authorities at least some sort of hint."
The masked man perked up, "If my suspicions are correct, you're work led you to stealing from high end retailers such as Lordly Tailor?"
"Yes…" Ron DeLite was actually partially flattered, taking in the notariety. "That was about a little less than a decade ago. Lordly Tailor was a usual spot for me, but it was not the only."
"Your name is… Ron DeLite… is it not?" His guest quipped.
"That is my name." Ron had a warm fuzzy feeling come to him, yet partially warring over another emotion of dejection. "I don't steal anymore. My wife, Dessie doesn't approve of it." Until it finally dawned upon him. "Wait… How do you know that…?" His voice became quieter.
"I have heard of your case… a long time ago… and not only that, Mr. DeLite." The birdman approached closer, "you have a debt to pay…," the masked man hissed.
"Wait…" DeLite backed onto the car hood. "You're not with one of those guys right?"
Ron was hit with a massive cold sweat. He couldn't believe it. He had gotten away for quite some time, he didn't think he would be caught now. "Come on man! I-I need the car! I was going to pay!"
"You're not going to wriggle out of this one. Four months late on payment… and you really thought you were going to get away…" The masked man's beak almost grazed against DeLite's nose. "Not this time."
The man grasped poor Ron's mouth. Feet were kicking in the air and Ron's hands were holding the darkman's wrist. Still holding him, the darkman lifted his free hand underneath the mask, pushing the exterior clamps upward. As frantically as he thrashed, DeLite wasn't going anywhere. The situation with fighting off two knife-armed men was much easier than this!
"Despite your perhaps masked scheme days have long since passed, I must inform you… My mask does indeed have an opening for the mouth." Still struggling against the grip, Ron finally realized what the birdman was doing. "However, I am more than positive that you would not want to see what's behind it."
The mouthpiece of the mask dropped, a slithering red snake-like tongue slid out of what is believed to be a mouth. The slithering tendril was slick and wet with saliva. His victim writhed and kicked trying to escape but with no avail. Panic consumed Mr. DeLite just before he would actually be. The tip of the giant red tongue flexed wide and thorny figures protruded from the sleeves of the flexed tongue.
Before he could let out a final scream, the thorny white stingers latched onto the base of his neck and held tightly, piercing his skin, paralyzing him. Ron's eyes shot wide as he felt the tingling sensation run down his body, resistance ebbing by the second. The birdman pulled his victim in, lifted him swiftly in the air and slammed the man's head against the hood of his own car. His victim, eye's tearing and squinting from pain, tried to give one last try to retaliate and prepared his fist for a right hook. His hand was caught again by the birdman. The birdman's hand squeezed his wrist and held his victim's mouth. Just as Ron passed out from his sudden whiplash, the birdman let go of his victim and retracted his tongue like measuring tape. With one last swallow, the birdman dragged his victim into the back passenger seat of the car and took his brand new ride for a spin to his destination. He wiped his mouth before raising the mask back into place. The hat was back on his head and he stomped on the gas pedal.
The small car made it to a stop at a garage. The birdman removed the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the car swiftly. His arms under the victim, he took Ron DeLIte, still unconscious, out of the passenger seat and finally threw him over his shoulder like a wet towel. Three guys from a corner stepped up to the birdman and the middle man, rigged with tattoos and a worn out bandana at his neck, tipped his head upwards. The birdman through the car keys to the middle man, "Keep quiet and perhaps I may assist you again."
"Alright, Dr. Black!" The hoodlum gestured his fingers to his chest and out with a whisk. "Our lips are sealed. That guy was a pain anyway. He didn't pay, at least he didn't get the wetwork!" His fingers traced over his lips to reinforce his claim. The birdman made a small nod before heading inside the complex. The hoodlums had a quick laugh as they saw their new profit on wheels. They jumped in, started the ignition and sped off.
The place didn't appear to fancy, nor too typical, but the inside was decked out with furniture, rooms, and labs all the way in the back. The birdman went through the hallways until he made it to the labs. He placed his unconscious victim on a stretcher before reinforcing him with clamps and restraints around his limbs and mid region.
He walked towards a large metal framed desk and removed the plague doctor mask then proceeding with his coat. He removed the retrieved contents from the coat and placed them on his desk. He picked up the vial with his two index fingers and thumbs, inspecting the substance inside. Fixing his glass and letting out a sigh, "Let's see what we have here."
He walked towards a long black desk and removed a cap of a vial that rested on a small frigid rack at the top right corner of the desk. He took a pipette, squeezed the bubble on top and sunctioned a small quantity of the substance, placed it onto a clear a small clear glass slab and reinforced it with another glass on top. He replaced the cap, placing the vial back on the rack. He placed the slab inside of the stage of a microscope and twisted the adjustment knobs. Looking into the eyepiece, there were small oval shaped cells with small pointed edges on the tips, completely still. The birdman opened a drawer underneath the lab table and took out a notebook with a pen on the rings. He quickly removed the pen and began writing.
'Subject: Suitor Cells
Harvested: September 3, 20XX
Cells are dormant. However, lack in length for pin structure and proper injection. Most likely due to improper procedure of injection or premature formation of suitor cells.'
"Hmmm… They'll die without a host. Best preserve them."
The slab was removed. He gathered another two slabs and unscrewed another vial from the frigid rack labeled: 'Subject Sample: Blood. P. Wright.' He placed two drops onto the first slab and one glass slab on top. The sample was placed under the stage clips. The darkman looked again through the eyepiece while scribbling onto the notebook again.
'Subject: P. Wright. Blood Cells.
Harvested: September 3, 20XX
Patient's blood at the scene. More tests needed. ***
Suitor cell presence: N/A'
With high anticipation, the birdman uncrewed the last cap with the sample of stolen white blood mixture from the forensics labs. He read the label: "Unknown. Sample B." He proceeded with the normal technique of preparation. The glass was reinforced onto the unknown sample replaced under the scope. The darkman continued to write on the notebook.
'Subject: P. Wright. Suitor Cell Activity.
Suitor cells completely camouflaged presence of blood cells. Suitor cells are healthy and busily infecting blood cells. Displacement is slower than optimal results. Most likely due to Suitor cells that were harvested September 3, 20XX.
Current blood cell activity:
Blood cells are slowly increasing in growth and cellular activity. Subject shows increase in testosterone, suitor white blood cells and hemoglobin. Cellular reconstruction is apparent. Estimate time of injection: 8:30-8:45 p.m. Date of Injection: September 3 20XX.'
The birdman was mixed between enlightened yet uncertainty by the results and closed his notebook. Cleaning off the slabs in disinfectant, he placed them back in their drawers. He picked up the three vials and placed them into slots along with about 8 different vials, each differently colored, every two containing the same names. He closed the fridge.
The birdman picked up back his mask and headed to a door on the left hand side. Opening the door revealed darkness. Shuffling noises and small whimpers were audible in the shadows. He closed the door behind him and turned on the lights. Someone sat in the middle of the room with a dark rag over their head, tied on the ankles and wrists. He lowered his beak and picked up the rag, there she was. Maggey Byrde.
She saw the dark mask that led her to the terrible hostage situation. Her face pale and mouth gagged, unable to let out a single screech.
"How misfortune has lingered upon you since you were born, Mrs. Byrde." He said slowly, pulling up a seat from the wall and unfolded it. He sat on the metal chair before seating, resting the side of his head on his fist. "However, today, you get to live a little longer."
Her worried looked, became a little relieved, but not entirely, as the birdman kept his tone of voice sinister and sly. "You're husband chose wisely today. He must treasure you dearly to risk his position."
His gloved hand made it to her messy hair, and moved a lock of it from her face to make sure she saw the masked visage of the person who kidnapped her. She flinched, but the news she heard of what Gumshoe did made her feel light hearted despite the fear that surrounded it. His voice transformed from sinister to warm comfort and soporific. "I am willing to let you go, as promised." Her face lit up in surprise knowing she was going to live another day.
"However." She slowly leaned back against the seat, preparing for what he might say next. Anticipation rising horribly, in fear of the worst. "I am willing to lift your earthly burdens and misfortune from you, if you are interested." She shook her head, in shock of how his tone wasn't threatening her, but pleasing her.
His voice made the offer quite intriguing. His charms, despite being behind the horrendous metallic bird mask, were working well with his captive. "I can assure you, Mrs. Byrde. You will live a life with no grief… no sorrow… no fear… Nothing, but bliss by spiritual and corporeal means enveloped in pure rapture. That's how it normally is when you're with your significant other. As long as you listen to my plea."
His magic was finally getting to the woman. His offer was dancing in her head. The comfort and presence he gave her was as if she had known him for years. He removed the gag from her mouth and untied her. She did not run. She was transfixed and completely dazed by the offer. His words were euphoria to her ears. She stood there, towered by the birdman and his beak directed towards her. "You get to be with your husband in eternal embrace, with your love." He grabbed her hand and lifted her head by her chin with his other, she smiled. "What is your say in this, Mrs. Bryde?"
Location: ?
September 5 4:15 p.m.
He nestled down onto the leather sofas and placed his hands behind his head. The birdman closed his eyes and made a wide grin, he was very pleased. The door opened. His eyes were still closed until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Eyes opened, revealing the violet eyed woman. "Why the big smile, doctor?"
Gazing at the beautiful woman he placed his hands on his lap, "Someone took an offer, Madam."
She made a barely audible gasp, "Really?" Her expression displayed amusement. "I am surprised. Then again, you are cunning." Her hands met her hips and she leaned forward. "Who?"
"Just someone I picked up on the way to my job. I'll let her go, but I know… she won't say a word that would be believable." His smiled sadistically. "Where is the other?"
She blinked slowly, obviously in a slow fashion before beginning, "He is the designated driver for tonight… But nevermind that, are you okay?"
"I'm still alive, aren't I?" He teased.
Judging by her expression, she didn't take it lightly. "What happened which I still debate could have gotten you taken away… I don't want to lose you. Please don't do it again."
Fixing his posture, he humbly nodded. "Yes, but it was necessary to me. I wouldn't want to lose you either."
She turned around and daintily walked away from him, her booted heels carefully pacing on the laminate floors. "Get ready. I want you at your finest."
The birdman gave a puzzled look. "Oh?" He arose from the sofa, approaching her until his chin rested on her shoulder, his hands gently grasping her arms as his chest pressed against her back. "And where are we going, Madam?" He inched himself a little closer. "And where were you all day?"
She stopped with her view over her shoulder, gazing at him, "I'm going to take you out to see something amazing! And as for my whereabouts, I've been making sure my plans succeed in fruition."
She continued, now facing ahead of her. "I heard this place is elegant. And they're having a special tonight when it comes to the fancy of the body movements. You already know!"
He noticed the side of her face, she still appeared upset, "listen… I am sorry. Truly I am. But these prosecutors and incompetent detectives force sometimes drastic measures."
"I should be worried." She mumbled. "You have lots of hate in you still… which I fear for your sake. And you shouldn't hate them all… What would our Good Sir think?"
"Besides him of course!" He reasoned. He felt her link away from his grasp, his hands later resting to his sides.
"I must retire to my room to... freshen up." The last syllable lingered on her lips. She slowly backed up to a room door, both hands on the knobs as she closed the doors.
He lifted his head with a faint smile, hands in his pockets in a triumphant stance. "It's a date then."
