So again, I don't own Beyblade, just the characters that I have created. And of course, the story that I have created.
The surgeon continued with his perilous task. The operation was intense. Trails of sweat were constantly being dabbed off his face. Surgical equipment being handed to him at his command. He had placed a life support system on standby, just in case.
Somewhere in the middle of the long procedure, Kai slipped into unconsciousness.
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The team of surgeons watched as they moved a partially conscious teenager into the lab. The boy looked like he was in rough shape. The head Surgeon gestured the rest to sterilize and clean the boy.
"We will have to take an X-ray to pinpoint the location of what you want," he looked at the Purple haired man, the man who had threatened him earlier today. Boris would only have the best surgeon perform this surgery. What he wanted was too important.
"There is no need of that, just cut the boy up, you will find it automatically."
"No, if we are doing this, we are doing it my way."
"Umm.. Doctor?" he heard one of his assistants call him, "I-I don't think the surgery is a very good idea." Confused at the statement, he walked up to the operating table. 'He was shocked', would be a very mild way to put it.
This child was completely messed up, and was in need of serious medical attention. His torso was wrapped up in bandages that were utterly soiled and stained with blood, there were numerous cuts on his body. Another wound was on his hand.
"What the hell! Cut off the bandages."
Once the bandages were off the true condition of the child was evident. The deep cut was fairly old, but had not received an opportunity to heal. The stitches were messed up in places and blood caked on them. "Shit" he felt something on the boy's hip while examining him, "Turn him over," his assistants obeyed. The doctor clasped a glove clad hand on his forehead there was an identical wound on his back, and this one was in a far worse condition, maybe because of the lack of easy access. It was beginning to get infected.
Boris was watching the entire ordeal patiently. He smiled every time Kai winced while they examined him.
"Doctor…" Boris began to speak but he was cut short. "I told you, this will happen MY way." Boris's smile faded, he moved closer to the man, "Have all the fun you want with him," he placed his hand on his throat, "But this surgery WILL happen today. You have one hour to touch the boy places," with that he turned and left.
He brought his attention back to the hurt teen. How he had lived through this was only a mystery to him. He quickly rinsed his hands and began working on the boy, mechanically washing the wounds, disinfecting them and redressing them. Once he was finished he checked the kid's pulse again. It was a little erratic. His breathing was slightly shallow and he was running a biting high fever.
"This surgery," he sighed and shook his head, "his condition is too fragile."
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"I demand that you give Dranzer back to me father," Eduard was furious.
"I have just borrowed her son. It's for some necessary research."
"you had no right to take her from me," he looked him in the eye, "STEAL her from me. What are you doing to her?"
"Oh nothing that is too bad, we are just studying her"
"Father, if I don't have her back by tomorrow, I will inform the cops about your research," he saw the unease in his father's eyes, "yes I know of the illegal research you are doing father, and I will report it. I want her back in my hands tomorrow."
Voltaire saw his son leave. He would deal with him when the time was right. For now, he needed him because he held the key to their research, the phoenix, Dranzer.
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He gathered up all the courage he could and walked out of the lab and towards the room where he had been detained that he guessed was Boris's office. He opened the door without knocking and surely enough, he was there.
"Are we done playing with my student already?"
"Boris," he was afraid of this man, but he had to say it, for the sake of the young teen lying on the operating table downstairs. "The boy's state is very weak, he might not survive the procedure."
"Did you get the X-ray you needed so desperately?"
"Yes"
"Is it there?"
"Yes"
Boris smiled.
"But sir, please understand, it is a complicated procedure. Its located too close to his heart. The procedure will kil-"
"Kill him? No, I won't let him die so easily, you can leave that to me. Now, that that's out of the way, please prepare for surgery immediately," Boris rose from his chair and straightened his coat looking at his reflection in the window next to him.
"Sir we will have to wait"
This doctor was now testing his patience, "and why is that?"
"I have given him a sedative; we will have to wait till its effects wear off."
Boris looked at the man, he was fuming. He picked up the glass paperweight on his table and hurled it at the doctor, who narrowly dodged it and it slammed into the wall behind.
"You don't EVER do anything without first informing me," Boris's tone was menacing, "Is that CLEAR?" he spat.
The doctor was too stunned to answer.
"Now, you joined us just today, or were forced to join, so I will not hold you completely responsible for your mistake," he reached into the drawer of his desk and brought out a yellowish liquid, "but payment has to be made. I can see that you are a good man, and that you would go to extreme lengths to make sure that your patients are alright. So this is how you will pay me back for lost time."
He placed the small bottle on the table in front of the doctor who picked it up. "W-what is it?"
"Something that we developed in-house. It is something that will stabilize the body completely, even if the subject is completely awake."
The doctor just stared at Boris's face what kind of a demon was this man?
"Oh and don't worry, the boy will not go into a cardiatric arrest, that will make sure of it." He looked at the doctor and smiled, "please doctor, It has been tried and tested. It's completely safe, you can carry out your procedure without a care."
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He noticed as the boy fell unconscious.
"Get the oxygen mask," his order fetched him an immediate response as his assistant strapped it onto the boy's nose and mouth.
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They all listened as the detective spoke of the horrors of the abbey. Slowly understanding why the Russian bladers who came from there were so aggressive, so anti-social, so cold. But really they were all just hurting. So much had been ripped away from them. So much they had to endure. So much their captain had endured.
"… that's all the information we managed to pull out form the abbey. But there are still too many blanks. The experiments were ruthless. The training was even more so."
"Kai was not spared because he was Voltaire's grandson. In fact, as these records go, his training was even tougher. He underwent multiple mental examinations, here" he ruffled through some of the papers that Nakano had handed him "something that they called the 'Neuroxemia' using some crazy chemicals they has whipped up in-house. The procedure apparently make the subject sleep for hours but relive some of his most traumatizing memories," he put the paper down, "but that's about all. Everything else seems to be missing. It was like I have been shooting arrows on the dark when it came to this boy."
"officially Kai was brought the Abbey when he was eight years, but the records that I have say something different. Voltaire had been keeping a track of his grandson ever since he was just four years old. The files are all here, the dates of each entry is here but they are all a blank," he sighed, defeated.
It was too much information, too much for them to handle, but they heard it all in any case, recoiling back into their own thoughts when the detective had finished.
"Maybe I can help?" it was Dizzy who spoke up.
"What? Our coders have tried everything, our scientists have tried everything. What will you do that is any different?"
"Oh you don't know Dizzy," Kenny jumped in to defend her, "if she says she can help it is because he knows she can."
The detective was silent.
"Detective, please let her try, maybe nothing will come off it but what's the harm?" Mr. Dickenson pleaded to him.
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"Object located," the head surgeon said, his voice muffled by the mask over his face.
Boris and Voltaire walked over to the table rather hastily. The teen's chest was a bloody mess. The deep insertion held open with clamps. They watched as the surgeon carefully moved towards something small and black nestled nest to the pumping heart. It was like a little marble, inky black with what looked like liquid substance inside it, shining every time it caught the bright light over their heads.
"Quick, get it out," Voltaire's voice sounded impatient.
The Surgeon carefully started separating the substance from the tissue in which it was embedded. Luckily it was not as close to the heart as he had initially thought it was. "Petri dish," he said as he pulled it free.
CLANG, he dropped it in the dish.
"Hand it over," Voltaire was trying to contain the eagerness in his voice, as he snatched the dish from the man and held it in the light. A menacing grin spreading over his face, "and it begins."
Please R & R..!