Chapter 3---Senoczine

"Run, Odd..."

He couldn't do it. He wouldn't!

But he had to. There was no other option.

"I SAID GO, ODD! NOW!"

Ulrich had absolutely no way of knowing what sort of strange item he had in his hand. All he knew was that it had been on the tray that Flow dropped. He hoped it was nothing lethal. What he was about to do went against everything he'd been taught to do all his life. Odd could preach about not harming girls all he wanted, but that wouldn't change the fact that they were in a kill-or-be-killed situation. Odd wasn't the decoy today. Odd was his only hope. Maybe he should start commiserating now...

With one hand around Flow's neck, it was a tad bit difficult to do anything else besides hold her down. Ulrich knew he must be choking her near to death, but she was a virtual intelligence, as in "not real." He'd planned on sacking her the moment the tiny speck of light appeared. Speaking of the light; what in the world was that thing? Nothing else in Lyoko had hurt him so far. He'd tried, with a rock when he was talking with Odd a while ago. It didn't hurt. Only the injuries from the real world still stung, and only the glowing ball had hurt him in Lyoko so far. He could use that to his advantage.

As he listened to Odd's footsteps echoing farther away, he noticed something he hadn't before: water. This place was moist, he knew, but he could see the reflection of shadows on a pool of water some feet away now. He didn't have time to stare, though. Ulrich's hands went stiff around Flow's neck as a jolting pain shot through his already injured side. He struggled for a moment to hold her, but his arms felt...weaker. His head suddenly throbbed and the world in front of him started to swim. Flow was easily able to push him off to one side. She'd drugged him, and with one hell of a big needle, too. Ulrich winced slightly when his fingers brushed against the tender wound. It was warm and sticky with blood from the new puncture, yet hard and crusty where the blood from his previous wound had dried. He wanted to gag, but even that seemed too much for him to handle. Any movement at all would send him to unconsciousness. He faintly heard Flow saying something:

"Go ahead and try, my doll. Running will only lead you to more heartache. It would be so much better if you just gave up now. Really; all you have to do is walk back over here. I'll even go easy on your friend." She was talking to Odd.

Go easy on him? If Ulrich ever made a list of people he wanted to kill, this Flow chick would definitely be at the top. Not that he really wanted to kill her, but still. She was an enemy, just like any of the crabs or wasps. The strange thing was, Ulrich heard a reply also.

"It was nice meeting you, and all, but I think I'd rather believe you are a figment of my imagination. You do have a strange resemblance to a nurse I once had to see when I was little. Take my advice and don't harm Ulrich. Believe me, I will find out, and I swear I'll come back for you when I do."

Odd's words seemed to echo along with his pounding footsteps. He'd escaped, for now. And with a good word in, too. Whether that would help or hurt Ulrich in the end, he did not know. He hoped it would be helpful.

"Ulrich," Flow said sweetly, "would you like to meet Vixeinya?"

"Vikshnaza-what?" Whoever it was, Ulrich had no intention of finding out. He needed to be moving!

"Vixeinya. Oh, or have you two met already? She's Xana's most prized creature. A real organism." Her voice took on a nostalgic tone. "Ah, how long has it been since I last took a breath? Too long to remember, anyhow. If I were ever devirtualized again, I'd probably die." She laughed suddenly, like she'd made some sort of joke. Ulrich didn't laugh, or even smile. He was too busy plotting.

"What is this stuff?" Ulrich asked, trying to buy some time while using his little finger to feebly point at his side. It was a pain to point. Movement made it hurt worse. Every breath he took stung like a thousand needles piercing his lungs.

"Was it the large needle?" Flow bent down to pick up her items, frowning and tsking at the things that Ulrich had aparently broken. "Yes. I'm afraid so." She started to mumble to herself before resuming her fake-nurse getup. Ulrich should've said his question was rhetorical. "It is a nasty concoction that Xana made many years ago"--Ulrich's mouth dropped at the words 'many years'; exactly how old was Xana?--"when the other experiments grew too boring. A simple blend of compounds, placed together so perfectly, makes up the drug called Senoczine. It's ingenius, really, how each atom blends--"

"But what does it do?" Ulrich wasn't an impatient person, but Flow was growing far too excited on the topic of science. He didn't like science very much anyway. Atoms? The more he heard about Xana from Flow, the less he liked being on the road he was headed down.

Flow blinked several times, but her doll-like grin never twitched. "It kills you, slowly. Xana has only had one patient to survive it so far. The rest... Well, let's just say there was a hole where their heart used to beat before they could even think to scream in agony."

Ulrich gulped. His throat burned. It really did suddenly seem like every beat of his heart was another second to the countdown on a bomb. Something extremely sharp was slowly making its way down Ulrich's neck and across his collar bone. He didn't notice it until now because of how slight the pain was when compared to the rest of the aching in his body. He stopped himself from gulping again. The vampire creature. Her long nails were sharper than anything he'd ever seen or felt; they cut across his skin like butter. And she was real, so Flow stated. Just like the snake Odd had killed; just like him. Vixeinya...

"She wants to play with you, Ulrich," Flow chimmed in a school-girl chitter, "You know, I think she likes you best of the three." She looked ready to burst with laughter. How could anyone be so happy over another's pain? Flow's hand brushed away the pin-like nails, though. Ulrich still couldn't move, but the red-head didn't seem to have any trouble lifting him gently. Where she was taking him however...

The water in the puddle-- well, make that pond-- did not seem so interesting now as it had earlier. Flow had the nerve to pat him on the head. "Take my advice, Ulrich, and this will be over soon enough. Lay very still."

"Why don't you take Odd's advice and leave me the heck alone," he mumbled.

"I can't say I didn't warn you. Be still, and everything will be fine." With one, two, three swings, Ulrich found himself flying into the pond. No, he didn't just dive in. He thrashed helplessly in the air, ignoring his pain, just before he slapped down into the water. On his back. Lying still didn't seem like such a bad idea. It was a wonder he remembered to take a deep breath just before he hit the surface, and even more so that he held it once he was under. The impact made white streaks flash across his eyes, but the cool water felt nice against his burning skin. Deeper he sank, into a darkness that almost seemed alive. The water around him was black. Even darker shapes loomed about the shadows and creavices of rocks or...whatever they were. Strange grasses caressed his arms and face. It was like being in a bubble full of slimy fringe. Lay still. That was what Flow had told him to do, but should he take her advice? What would Odd do?

He knew the answer to that one. Odd would probably float back to the top and yell at Flow for drenching him. Then he would swim around the pond like it was a pool and not a death trap. For all Ulrich knew, it really was a pool!

The moment something hard clamped down on his ankle, he knew Flow was lying. Her idea of amusement was watching people suffer, and Ulrich wasn't about to give the likes of her that satisfaction. Or Vixa-what's-her-face. Or Xana. Or anybody who was mad enough to relish in his pain. But it was like he was chained down. The cold numbed his pain, somewhat, but already his lungs were screaming for fresh air.

Ulrich began desperately waving his arms and grasping for something to try to pry his ankle free. He got a hand full of fringy seaweed. There was nothing solid nearby, and he was running out of time. Time. He could feel the countdown in his head now. The strain on his heart from lack of oxygen was making the drug ten times worse. But Flow said that one person had survived. Well, if they could, then so could he. He fought the urge to gulp a mouthfull of water.

When his foot smashed into something solid, his first instinct was to open his mouth and scream. It was probably broken. He did no such thing as scream. In the process of registering a broken foot, Ulrich's mind also somehow managed to recognize the restraint on his ankle no longer there. The force of smashing his foot into a rock must've also broken the shackle.

His next objective was air. He needed to breath, now, or die in a vain attempt to survive the now horrifying world of Lyoko. Had he not been directly transported here, he could breathe in the water as well as any fish. Or at least hold his breath for half an hour. But the water was as real as the glowing ball or the needle Flow had stabbed him with. Why did most things seem real now? Virtual reality and actual reality were not the same thing! Ulrich did not have time to think about Lyoko. He had to literally use his will power to make his arms swish forward. They ached like nothing he'd ever felt. If Ulrich had thought his head was throbbing before, then it was pounding now. He couldn't die. Not here. Not where no one would ever know. The blackness went on forever, but so did he. Every stroke of his arms and kick of his legs seemed like a lifetime of struggle, but, driven by determination, he did not stop.

But the beautifully pale, heart-shaped face that appeared before him stopped him dead in his swimming. Yumi. He hadn't thought of her once since coming to Lyoko, and maybe for the better, but... Oh, he could imagine her as vividly as he could had she really been there, two feet in front of him. He wanted her close, safe, to give him the extra mile he needed to live. But the Yumi beckoning him to the right was not the real Yumi. The mirage would not stop him. He suddenly felt like the emptiness of the lake.

Ulrich could do nothing but watch as his limbs slowly stopped moving. No matter how much strength a person has, one cannot move without energy and oxygen. He felt weak, tired. He wanted to close his eyes, but he kept them open to watch the last bubbles of life drift from his mouth and up through the black abyss. He couldn't stop the flood of water that entered his mouth. When Ulrich found that he couldn't stop his eyes from closing this time, he knew he was dying.

But then the water started to swirl. It swished and circulated and drew him into the current like a twig in a river flood. The blackness remained, but he could no longer see the seaweed, only bubbles from the whirlpool. In the process of spinning helplessly, Ulrich was smashed against a rock, knocking any water that had entered his lungs back into the pond. With an effort, he forced himself to keep his mouth shut. He felt shrivled up like a prune. Having bad air was one thing, but holding your breath without any air was quite another.

Suddenly-- as quickly as the whirlpool had come from nowhere-- he was out of the water. Or at the surface, at least. Wonderful tasting air filled his lungs to the max. He wanted to sleep, to give up for a minute. That would not keep him alive. He seemed to be in some sort of cave-like laboratory, and the water he was standing in was shallow. It came up to his neck, but his feet were flat on the ground. Taking that first step was the hardest, but soon Ulrich was crawling out of the water. His foot and sides were throbbing relentlessly, but just for a moment he wanted to stop and rest. As he lay there on the bank, watching the room spin around him, he thought of an earlier time, when Lyoko was more like a game than a chore. Their lives had changed so much since they'd first found out about Lyoko. Back then, it had been a game. They didn't take it seriously. Now Xana was proving to them just how wrong they were. Real people? Real creatures? Just who was Xana, and what business did he have with world domination? If that was even his motive. And what about Aelita? Had he forgotten all about her? Or was she in danger this very second? Ulrich could rip his hair out trying to answer all of the questions plaguing his mind, but like he'd reasoned out before, that would get him nowhere. He hated pointless frustration.

"...But honestly, Flow, how could he survive a swim like that? Not to mention with Senoczine in his system. If you ask me, it's impossible. He's dead, and you know the boss is going to be mad. Stop wasting time, take your punishment, and get back to work."

"He's not dead, and I'm not going to get punished. Shush, I thought I heard something..."

It was so hard not to scream. Such a short moment of peace, and he chose to spend it dwelling over what he could do nothing about. No matter now. More footsteps, echoing in the room. Two sets, at least. He could tell that by the foreign voice that spoke to Flow. Scrambling to his feet took a great deal of strength that Ulrich just did not have. He could hear his breath, ragged and uneven, fanning out like his life. He could hear the ticking of the imaginary clock inside his heart, along with a high pitched ringing. And he could hear the water, a slight trickle that tickled his ears. Everything hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to fall down and beg for Flow to let him off easy. The other person with Flow thought he was dead though. That could be a very good advantage. And so could the crates that were piled along the opposite side of the wall. Maybe he was running off determination, or maybe adrenaline, but whatever it was, he ran. He hid.

"Do you really believe we'll find his body down here, Flow?" A third, squeaky voice asked. Three pairs of feet, then.

"Of course I do. You know how a drain pipe works. If he weren't down here, we would've seen him on the bed of the pond upstairs. Any more usless questions?"

The first voice spoke up again. "I've got one. What if Shella got him?"

"Shella?" The squeaky voice said, shaking a little with what Ulrich determined as fear.

Flow asked, "You mean the giant squid like creature that Xana keeps in this lake? Nah, I've got him taken care of. I've always wanted rid of that thing anyway. He eats too many of the test subjects."

Light flooded his eyes suddenly. Through the cracks in the crate he was hiding in, Ulrich could see how bright the room really was. The walls and ceiling were visible now, proving his theory about the place being a lab. There were viles and jars and strange objects everywhere, scattered about in no particular order. It looked as though no one had been there in a long time. There were three people standing in the center of the room, Flow the shortest one with her bright red hair. The other two looked like foil opposites of each other. While one was near Flow's height, the other towered above them. Where the short female looked timid, the tall male looked angry. The small one was beautiful, and the other...ugly was the only word for it. He almost didn't even look human, like some sort of dog shoved into a white lab coat. A mean dog.

"Bart, I don't feel like looking around down here right now. I think I'm going to leave that to you and Cherri. That other blond boy is running around loose somewhere; I need to find him first before I continue with Mr. Brunette. After you find him, simply set him on a table in plain sight. Trust me, he won't have the strength to fight back."

Bart made an edgy salute and said a sarcastic, "Yes, ma'am," while the shorter girl-- Cherri?-- bowed to Flow formally. Polar opposites. Flow looked satisfied though.

"I'll leave you to your work then." She flashed her cheery smile, then scurried back up the enormous staircase on the far side of the back wall.

"God," Bart said suddenly, so loud that Ulrich jumped. "I was wondering if that bitch would ever leave us alone. She thinks she's head scientist here, but she's only a guinea pig. We know that, don't we doll?"

To Ulrich's amazement, Cherri looked down and nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."

"I mean, come on! I'm twice the rank she is, and boss still bumps her up to the hot spot up top. Who does she think she is, though? Snapping orders at higher ranks such as myself could end her back in the real world. One little accident would be all it'd take. You know what I mean, Cherri?"

Cherri nodded again. The poor girl looked on the verge of tears. But on the other hand, she'd looked like that from the moment he first saw her when the lights came on. Melancholy. She bore a strange resemblance to Yumi, but her hair was much longer with bangs, and she wore glasses. And she was much older, of course. Older than his mother, by the looks of things. That was also a strange sight. Bart could only be three years his senior at the most despite his hideousness, and Cherri must be twice that, yet she bowed and took orders from that infidel as if she were the young apprentice. "If it pleases you, sir, I believe we must get started."

"Yeah, yeah... In a second. I've got some business I want to finish with you first, doll baby."

"Yes, of course."

Cherri-- beautiful, anxious, melancholy, Yumi-like Cherri-- slowly unbuttoned her lab coat, and tossed it to the floor. Next was her other clothing. All of it. She stood still as a board with Bart circling around her. He had some strange knife-like object in his hand. Ulrich saw him lick his lips. With only a hint of anticipation, Bart led Cherri over to one of the medical tables. She willingly let him strap her down.

Ulrich leaned back away from the crack he'd used for spying. He didn't want to watch this. He didn't want to see this, or even be there. He wanted to get away from the God-forsaken place. Ulrich placed a trembling hand to his cheek and felt the silent tears streaking his face. They left a salty taste in his mouth that wasn't pleasant at all. A wet, slick taste. He gulped, and traced his fingers along his lips. Not salty. Metallic, and bitter. Blood.

He was already dead. If not from the drug, then from hypothermia, or blood loss. Some other disease found only in virtual reality. There was no way to escape death now, even if a miracle happened. What was the point of trying to go on? What was the point of risking Odd's perfectly healthy life to save his already dead one? He'd tried to hold on to hope, but at this rate, Ulrich's determination felt like a well in the Sahara: dried up and gone.

It took a great deal of will power for Ulrich to force himself to lean forward again. Faint will power. A sixth sense. He'd told Yumi that that she needed to trust her intuition more often, just before coming here. He wished he'd taken his own advice then, so he took it now. He listened to the tiny voice somewhere in his mind telling him to look back at the traumatic scene. He was shocked when he saw Cherri staring directly at him. His first notion was to jump up and make a run for it, even if he knew he wouldn't make it two steps. But another thought hit him so hard that he snapped his mouth shut and stared back at her. Bart seemed to ignore where she was looking. He was greedily readying some sort of tube that hooked up to the knife. Cherri's lips were moving, and from years of watching for Jeremie's signals in class of when and how they would get out of class, he could read every word. Watch me. I have information you need. Do not be afraid. Half of what you hear is lies. Do not give up. I will tell you how you can live. You are the world's last hope. I couldn't believe that you both managed to escape. It was brilliance. Sheer brilliance. I--

Her words stopped momentarily because Bart had driven the knife/shot into her side with an excessive amount of force. But momentarily was all it took. Seconds she stopped, and then, with great courage behind her sad eyes, she continued. I know you're probably wondering why one of us is helping you. Well, I knew that I would die today. I was told I would. But that does not mean the world has to die so soon as well! I could not keep from you what you need to know. I've lived my life, and... Her entire body was starting to shake now. Bart was grinning like a mad fool with whatever sadistic pleasure he was gaining from this. Cherri hardly paused though. ...and you haven't yet, so I feel like I should help you if I can. And I know I can. Look at your feet.

Ulrich did, very quickly. He didn't want to miss one scrap of her help, even though she was technically his enemy and was very likely killing him before he even knew it. There were about fourty tiny, blue viles in the bottom of the crate. He looked back at Cherri and wished he hadn't. His gut instinct already told him not to watch her, but his eyes took in the whole scene, from Bart's mad laughter, to Cherri's lost but hopeful eyes, to the eerie green liquid flowing into her through the tube. The poor woman was thrusting helplessly, groaning in pain. It was getting harder to read her lips, which were constantly moving and, now,covered in blood.

Drink...three...of them. Give you...great strength. Sorry. Can't hold on...Can't...hold on... Her silent words were starting to mix with her agonizing screams. Ulrich could almost hear death happening in the hoarseness of her voice. You must kill Bart! Can't hold on. Kill him, please! Do not do it for vengance, but for the love of humanity! Can't hold on. He is not human! Can't. Kill him! Can't. Kill him! Oh, dear God, have mercy on my pathetic soul! Can't. Kill--

Ulrich hadn't believed a word Flow had said about a drug that made your heart explode like a bomb. It was a shitty bluff, and at that, he'd put it toward the back of his mind. Until he got to see it first hand. Watching Cherri's naked body ripple and spurt blood from every opening like that... Looking at the crimson hole in her chest... Seeing but not believing her lightless eyes and pretty smile. Fuck, she looked way too much like Yumi for Ulrich not to think about her. He quickly clutched a hand to his mouth to keep from vomitting. He could still taste his own blood. More so now than before. Dying was not an option now, not when he had a cure for the dreadful Senoczine. His hands were shaking so badly that he dropped the vile ten times before he finally managed to get the cork off, and then he gulped it down so fast he nearly choked. The taste of peppermint made him want to laugh and dry up his tears. Peppermint! Life was funny sometimes. He drank another, then another. Oh, they were good, but Cherri had said three. He didn't want to take chances on overdosing, especially with something he knew nothing about.

Not a minute gone, and he could already hear the ticking in his head slowing down. He did feel slightly stronger. His injuries cooled and healed almost instantly. He felt sick, though. Sick with hatred, sick with blind, unforgiving rage. That was something that Ulrich had never felt before. Bart was still laughing, and turning in his direction. Ulrich's heart skipped one precious beat. Had he seen what Cherri was up to?

"Bart," Flow said, walking around the very crate Ulrich was hiding in. He thought he just might die from a heart attack. The red-head still wore her motherly smile, even in the prescence of such a bloody, gorey mess. "I'm so glad you decided to go through with that. Cherri's been known for helping escapees for years. It's about time someone did her in." Ulrich didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing such cruel words said in a happy, optomistic voice.

"Yeah, bitch had it comin'. She did have some good curves, though. Such a shame." Bart sounded cynical, not lamenting the death of Cherri in the least. And why should he? He was the one who killed her. Ulrich clenched his fists and grinned when the two people failed to hear his knuckles popping.

"And by good you mean humane, right?" They both laughed at that, laughed at some sick-minded joke.

The very thought of mocking a dead person's legacy made Ulrich's skin crawl. Bart was a sick bastard, and Flow was a psychotic nurse. He thought he hated her before, but now... The two grew quiet at the sound of movement. The slow creaking the lid of the crate made was the only sound to ring through the eerie silence of the room. "Hey guys," Ulrich said, stomach fluttering with anger and pain and adrenaline. Somehow, his words were as calm as ever. "Miss me?"

-.-.-.-

Here's the third chapter. I sincerely hope you guys are enjoying my story. This is the first time I've tried to put a time limit on a fiction of mine. I have to update this within one week, otherwise give myself a penance, or something like that.

Shoud I up the rating to Mature? This chapter grew pretty graphic, and I'm afraid it's only going to get worse. I think I should. This story has got to be the most violent thing I've ever written. Woot.

Oh yes, and thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Rest assured that I appreciate each and every one. Arigatoo gozaimasu. -.-.-Shaku-.-.-