George Maxwell was in his lab scowling over some notes when he heard the doorbell ring. Cursing loudly, he stood up. Of all the times for an interruption now had to be the worst. He was still in the process of perfecting his cerebral toxin formula. The results of past experiments weren't exactly favorable. The doorbell rang again and he muttered more obscenities as he made his way through the mansion to the front door. Swinging it open forcefully he was faced with nothing more than a small package. Narrowing his eyes he looked around for whoever could've left it. However, it was just too dark out for even him to see properly. He saw no movement in the shadows so he figured that whoever left the package was long gone. It was probably some prank anyway. Still, he brought the package inside and upon reading the note attached to it carried it all the way back into his lab.
'You shouldn't try to bury your past,' it said. He moved some papers aside and set it on the now cleared space. Glaring at the mysterious package he debated not opening it at all and instead throwing it back outside. However, the note piqued his curiosity. It couldn't have been a prank; it was far too specific. He found a box cutter, sliced through the tape, and reached inside to find something wrapped in bubble wrap. The second he touched the object he knew exactly what it was. There was no need for him to remove it from its protective cover but he did so anyway, perhaps to assure it.
"No!" he screamed as he dropped the statue. "How did it...? It's not possible!" Yet there it was, the very same statue he had buried with his children a year ago. "It shouldn't be here..." He had to get rid of it. And the person who sent it back to him as well. When he found out who had done this...
"George? What's the matter?" His wife was right outside the door and she sounded distressed. It was most likely due to his yelling. He quickly picked up the horrid object, stuffed it into his coat, and ran to the door. "A-are you alright?" she stuttered once she saw the panicked look on his face.
"Yes, I'm fine," he answered quickly. Locking the door behind him he added, "There's somewhere I must go."
"What's come up? George, are you sure you're-"
"I'll be back shortly," he said, giving her a quick kiss before rushing past. Once he was out of sight she looked at the door he'd emerged from. He always spent so much time in there.
"I wonder what he's up to..." It would be best not to press him. George Maxwell was not the type of man who wanted others prying into his personal business. Not even those closest to him.
Driving at break-neck speeds Maxwell gave a small shudder and glanced at the statue tossed haphazardly onto the passenger seat. If someone had dug that up, then they could've also discovered one of his darkest secrets. And perhaps one of his greatest regrets. It pained him to have to do that to his own children. It wasn't even their fault. He wasn't entirely a heartless monster. He envied those who could have kids of their own to love and cherish. If it wasn't for that damn curse...
"Why? Why am I the only man who has to suffer like this?" It wasn't fair, but once he perfected his formula it would be. He'd make everyone else suffer for their good fortune. Then he wouldn't be the only one feeling as though he was trapped in some sort of eternal damnation. Giving the statue another glance Maxwell started a bit when he hit a bump and its sinister smile turned towards him. He had to get rid of the thing now. It was freaking him out. He could feel its dark power slowly drifting around him and he didn't want any of it. Its aura was suffocating him, it felt like. When did it even become so hard to breathe? He could feel himself beginning to choke. The car veered a bit to avoid drifting off the road and into the ditch.
He took another look at the demonic statue and decided it wasn't worth it to take it back to the graveyard. Any longer with the thing and he might wind up dead. So he snatched it up, opened the window, and flung it out. He sighed in relief once he could feel the sickening thickness leave the air. Maxwell sighed again as he wiped his hand across his face and let the wind from the open window refresh him a bit. He felt like he was overheating. After another few minutes he shut the window and brought the car to a stop. He stepped out and made his way down the hill to the Maxwell Tree.
"No! I don't believe it!" Right at his feet were small craters where the statue and his children were supposed to be. It was just as he anticipated. Someone had discovered his secret and dug up everything. Only one item was left behind. His son's body. He must've died before whoever found the place reached him. Maxwell didn't know whether to feel a little relieved or even more horrified. On one hand, only one child survived and maybe it wouldn't be a problem. On the other hand, both children were cursed and he had no idea what would happen in the situation that one died and the other lived. Somehow, he knew he was lucky that it was Lynn, his daughter, who made it. If Bates was still alive and grew up he'd be in trouble. He felt much more darkness radiating off him than he had Lynn. It was enough to rattle even a man like himself, and he'd dealt with many otherworldly things.
Taking a breath to calm himself down he gave the tree a forlorn look before turning and walking back to his car. Whoever did this was going to suffer dearly. As he climbed into the driver's seat he groaned a bit and rubbed his temples. He was getting so frustrated that he'd wound up with a headache. Great. Just what he needed. Maxwell started the car, turned it around, and drove back the way he came, completely missing the other vehicle parked a little ways off the road as he passed.
"Hmph. I was expecting him to bury it but I guess even the best people can't overcome their fear. Oh well. At least I didn't have to get covered in dirt getting it again." The owner of the car smirked and looked at the statue they'd just recovered. "How a man as intelligent as Maxwell could believe in curses is beyond me. However, it doesn't matter. His superstition is about to be his downfall. Now, to put this thing where it really belongs." They started the car and drove in the direction opposite to Maxwell's.
When he stepped inside, Maxwell was met with his wife, Claire, who was incredibly worried. "Are you sure you're okay, George?" she asked, walking to him.
"I'm fine. There was just... something I had to do."
"Oh... Well, did you take care of it?"
"Y-yes... At least I hope so." He had muttered the last part to himself but she still heard.
"George..."
"I'm fine, really." Right after he said this he flinched and brought a hand to his head. Claire gave a small gasp and placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on his head.
"You're not 'fine.' Come sit down, George." Not feeling like arguing he complied and let her lead him to the living room and push him onto the sofa.
"I have a headache," he stated blandly.
"Wait here. I'll go and get you some medicine," she said before turning to leave.
"Get some water too."
"Sure thing, dear." As Maxwell waited for his wife to return he couldn't help but think about what he was going to do now. Someone knew his secret. They knew about his children and they probably knew about his entire family. If that was the case, he was screwed. Absolutely no one could know the truth about him and his family. Only one person was given a small amount of information on the matter: Claire. He hadn't told her everything-the details behind his very existence and his humanity were things he would refuse to tell any living creature-but she did know about the curse and why he had to bury their children. She understood, but wasn't exactly thrilled to hear that she wouldn't be able to raise her children like any expecting mother would be looking forward to. It wasn't exactly a fine moment for either of them.
"Here you are." Claire handed him the glass and a pill and he downed both. Seating herself beside him she said, "You know you can always talk to me about anything."
"I know," he said, not even looking at her.
"What's bothering you?" she asked, taking his hand in hers.
"Well..." He debated whether or not he should tell her. Taking a glance at her face he chose to talk. "You know my family's curse."
"Yes... Why we had to bury Lynn and Bates." It was a bit pointless to have given them names when they were going to die, but Claire had insisted. She wanted at least one bit of normalcy in the situation, no matter how small. So before Maxwell had taken them away she named them.
"It seems... It seems someone's found out about that." He inwardly cringed when he heard her gasp.
"You mean, someone knows?"
"More than that. They've dug up the children." And the statue, he thought. But he kept that little tidbit to himself.
"What?! Someone has the children?"
"Only one of them. Lynn. Bates is... dead."
"O-oh..." He couldn't bear to look at her face. The hurt that shone in her eyes whenever the children were mentioned; it nearly killed him. "So, Lynn is out there somewhere... alive..."
"Yes. I've got no clue who did it."
"I'm glad."
"What!" He looked at her in utter shock. She knew as well as he did the danger of the curse, so why was she happy?!
"I mean-uh, ah!" The sudden raise in her husband's voice startled her and for a moment she couldn't piece her words together. "What I meant was..."
"You're glad our daughter is alive," he finished.
"D... don't tell me you're not a little happy yourself! I know she's cursed and all but still. That's our daughter, George. She's our flesh and blood. How can you not care at all about this?"
"I suppose..." he sighed. Maxwell didn't want to tell her that he was horrified by the fact. It could possibly be her breaking point.
"I hope she's raised in a good home." Maxwell said nothing and opted to look out the window only to see nothing but blinds. A shift to his right made him refocus his attention back on Claire, who had moved closer to him. "I know you're stressed, hun, but don't fret. I'm sure everything will be okay," she said.
"I don't see how you can be so su-mpmh!" He suddenly found her lips on his and didn't hesitate to return the kiss. Eventually he pulled her down on top of him and wrapped his arms around her. However, not even the love he and his wife shared could get his mind completely off the incident and his headache was hitting him with a vengeance. He pushed her off and got up from the couch. "I've... got some work I have to finish..." Despite the medication to stop it the pain was actually worsening and simply thinking was beginning to make him nauseous.
"It's about the children, isn't it?" Claire asked, her voice filled with distress. Her husband was clearly upset with the incident. No. It was well beyond that. She could tell. He may not show it, but he was absolutely enraged by the fact and in no way wanted it to cause any problems for either of them. She could only pray that he wouldn't be completely blinded by his anger and do something rash. He had a habit of that.
"...Something like that," came the vacant response from down the hallway. George had apparently left at some point while Claire was distracted with her own thoughts. She sighed and rubbed her head. Now she was getting a headache.
One week. An entire week-seven whole days-went by and Maxwell still hadn't gotten any more patients. Those incompetent assholes in Memorial weren't good for anything other than something to yell at. It was one of the largest hospitals in the country and they seriously couldn't find any hopeless patients to use? How was he supposed to perfect the toxin if he had no way of testing it? He was beginning to consider using some of them as lab rats. Most of them were already mindless enough as is, who would notice the difference?
Maxwell snarled and slammed a fist on the table. The scientist who had the misfortune of giving him the bad news shrank back and silently prayed that the monstrous man wouldn't take it out on him. Said man was cursing up a storm, furious that he hadn't been able to make any progress. Thinking now would be the best time, the scientist slowly began to back out of the room as if any sudden movements would put him in danger. Maxwell had been very aggressive the past week, even going as far as strangling one scientist for interrupting him while he was reworking his formula and nearly stabbing another in the throat with a needle out of pure frustration.
"Dammit! I can't believe there are no patients to use! Surely you useless shits can find someone they wouldn't miss!" As if sensing the other man's retreat Maxwell whirled around and locked eyes with him. He looked like a frightened puppy: wide eyed, cowering, and completely and utterly helpless against the beast standing in front of him. "Were you leaving?" The poor man was frozen on the spot, held in place by Maxwell's gaze. The man had always been terrifying but recently...
"Mr. Maxwell..."
"What?!" Both scientists flinched. Now that he wasn't the direct target of Maxwell's fury, the first one scurried out the room for dear life and left the second to fend for himself.
"Uh... I have-"
"It had better be something of actual importance." The 'Or else' wasn't necessary. Everyone who worked with Maxwell knew of his dark side and what would happen to them if they were to see it. It was because of that that this scientist had nearly had about three heart attacks. He couldn't have picked a worse time to walk in. Thankfully, he really did have something important. And it just might make Maxwell happy. Or at the very least put him in a better mood.
"Well, there's been an accident. Just like you wanted," he added quickly upon seeing his eyes flash. "Memorial has another thirty or so new patients. We can't use all of them because that would be suspicious, but there's a good number we can get from 'em. Dr. Kaplan's already working on it." He stopped worrying for his safety once he saw the smile spread across Maxwell's face. It was a horrid smile and any human being who made such a face should surely be locked away for eternity, but he smiled too. Maxwell was far from a normal human being and by now his co-workers were used to it. Almost.
"I'm glad you've finally managed to do something right," he said, now completely calm and showing no signs of ever being angry in the first place. "Could you do me a favor and prep the lab?"
"B-but the patients aren't coming until-"
"Just do it." Any objections he may have given were silenced as Maxwell strode past him and down the hallway. This man was a monster. The scientist felt the guilt well up inside him the second his 'boss's' form disappeared. Torturing people, making threats, kidnapping, murder... He was doing just about every possible crime against humanity and had forced others into it as well. Nearly every scientist at Memorial Pharmaceuticals was involved and even a few at the hospital. There was nowhere for anyone to go without suffering at the hands of George Maxwell. Just look at Allen Hale and Philip Tate. The scientist shuddered at the thought. One was turned into a scapegoat and forced out of his job and the other... Well, truth be told he had no idea what was going on with Tate. The only clue he had was the haunted look in his eyes whenever he saw him. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know. There was no escape other than death, and a few poor souls had actually gone so far. Maxwell's reaction? Use their lifeless corpses as test subjects. It was sickening how he had no boundaries.
Giving a shudder he went to go fulfill Maxwell's wishes before he was on the receiving end of his wrath. Although he couldn't help but hope and pray that someone would save them even if it meant more deaths. And that he would finally be able to sleep at night.
A/N: This took me a while but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Next chapter will hopefully come out sometime next week. Maybe. I will try. Anyways, I hope it was good.
