r2
Dr. Mercer was a very careful man. He knew well not to trust any of his coworkers, especially not the ones who had access to his lab, where he studied Blacklight. What a beautifully strange creation it was. Today, although it sat in the same vial in the same cooled test tube rack as always, it seemed to writhe as though alive.
New behaviour from the sample, without new stimuli. Had it been learning somehow? The thought nearly brought a thin smile to his gaunt features- not that it could be observed behind the glowering expression that rarely ever left his face. The only reason it could learn was because he created it. This was his creation, perfectly deadly, and the motions indicated some strange interactions had occurred.
Perhaps when his shift was over- in a few short hours- and those thrice damned scared interns left, he could take the sample out to investigate. He had a suspicion someone had perhaps fed it, or mixed some chemicals with it while he had taken his short mandatory rest break this morning.
Dr. Mercer turned his sharp, sleepless gaze onto the two dayshift interns, away from the hypnotic dark sea in the test tube for just a moment. Currently, they were just sorting out some paperwork for him- applications for a higher security level for his lab. They were young, naive. It would befit their character to have handled the sample without gloves, or to have nudged the stopper while moving it just enough that it could consume the skin cell laden air of the insecure lab and grow like this.
He let out a dark, muted sigh, and turned back to watching the microscope try to process the latest sample he'd managed to acquire. His gaze kept getting drawn to the swirling black vial, which was shifting oddly violently today. What on earth had those two fools done to his virus?
Just beyond that thin layer of glass, the viral biomass churned, shuddering and clawing at the walls of his-not its, his-prison. Slowly, his agitated fit became a conscious one, awareness spreading across the entirety of his biomass as he pressed his form against the edges of the container.
Why was he here again? He was at Dana's apartment yesterday. He wasn't stupid-in fact, memory was one of his greatest feats when he had something to latch onto. Bleary, he made a point to go about the events of the last day. Woke up in a test tube, Dr. Mercer (Bitch) gave him shit, they found Dana and she was ok. Took Bitch to the spare room… and then everything went dark. Now he was locked in glass again, the frustratingly familiar scent of the lab just beyond yet another test tube making him internally hiss.
Bastard took me back here. Son of a bitch! Two could play at that game. Rather than fully form for the man who'd pried so much at him the other day, he separated a small portion of his biomass, forming a single eye. Sure enough, the exact same lab as the day before greeted him. Filthy, the scent of chlorine and blood meshing together. Bitch seemed invested in some microscope-on the other side of him, a pair of Gentek scientists, distracted with paperwork. The single pupil dilated. He was so low on biomass. So tired. So hungry. He pressed himself against the glass, but had yet to crack it, tendrils whipping against the glass walls in hungry frustration.
His efforts did not go unnoticed by Dr. Mercer, who had become as stiff as a taxidermy ferret. His virus had acquired an eye somehow. Though it was dulled by the glass, and turned away from him, the sight sent primal fear into him. He pushed his chair back, getting up from his desk to approach it from behind, frantically pulling latex gloves over his hands as he walked, shaking slightly from the excitement. The scientist picked it up tenderly, like a newborn bird, and watched the pale blue disembodied eye roll around to face him.
It was only on account of the two associates that Alex hadn't tracked Dr. Mercer's movements, so he earned a momentary startle as his container was lifted. Now, he was staring at Dr. Mercer directly-and if he had the features to do so, he would have squinted at him. He had an entire body yesterday, what the hell was the big deal about an eye? For as smart as Bitch was, he was kinda dumb. Whatever, it didn't matter. As much as he tried to focus on something else, anything else, he couldn't get his mind off the associates. The virus pressed his whole form against the wall of the test tube, listening to it crack and ultimately shatter.
He didn't waste a second once he hit the floor. Before he even reformed, tendrils whipped out from his mass to grab the nearest associate and drag them in. He burrowed into their flesh as they screamed, their partner pinned by fear as they were ripped to shreds. So practiced in consuming by now, devouring them was quick and easy. But it wasn't enough. He let his body properly reform, returning him to the shape of Alex Mercer-just in time for him to grasp the second worker before they could flee. In a swift act of driving his hand through their stomach, they too were gone. Better. Much better.
Alex gave a small sigh of relief as the tendrils returned to his form, stretching to readjust to his proper form… again. He twisted on his heel, greeting Dr. Mercer with a scowl and clenched fists.
"Why are we back here." It was more of a demand than a question; even with his hunger satisfied, he wasn't exactly happy to be dragged away from his sister yet again.
Dr. Mercer had watched his virus destroy the interns (and not him, despite himself being the closest- it recognised him?) with little more than professional curiosity, admiring the way he perfectly cut off the screams. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that this wasn't the first time it had happened, but did that really matter. He responded to the demand with a measured, if somewhat arrogant, tone. "What do you mean by 'back here'? You've been here for years, Blacklight."
If he were any more expressive of a person, the name would have made him scowl. Instead, he stepped forward, grabbing the scientist by the shirt collar and forcing him forward. (No. Stop it. He was annoying, but he wasn't going to consume him.) Alex bared his teeth, looking the man's face over for any signs of recognition.
"We were with Dana," he asserted, voice akin to that of a warning growl. Even so, he released his grip, stepping away and letting clenched fists fall to his sides. "Not here. You wanted to investigate Penn Station. So why the hell are we back at Gentek."
We? It was using plural pronouns- or it had his memories and somehow jumbled itself into them. Dr. Mercer couldn't wait to take samples of this mimicked form, find out why it chose him, but he had quite the curious conundrum. He hadn't visited Dana yet, so how did it remember that? Although, something seemed off with that line of thought. A vague feeling of deja vu was wrapping itself around him like a wet blanket in summer. Thick, heavy, distracting.
"I'm afraid your memories seem to be quite… Corrupted. Perhaps you're mixing my intentions for the future with my memories- though where you got Penn Station from I'm a tad perplexed by." He took a step back, looking over the complete clone of himself, the perfect weapon, with contemplative eyes. "If you could take on a different form, or perhaps return to your container, I'm sure we could roam the streets. Would you like to see the outside world?"
A blink. Two. He couldn't even hang on to his anger, as utterly confused as he was-although his narrowed eyes and firm frown could easily suggest otherwise. First he missed the entire apocalypse, now he couldn't remember what had happened yesterday? As much as Alex wanted to blame it on the scientist, it wouldn't make sense to. Dr. Mercer was a smart man. He wouldn't let these major things just pass him by, even if he was gonna be a bastard about them. So… what the hell? He dug through his freshly stolen memories, but neither associate knew about much beyond their departments. Luckily, when he was confused, there was one person he could always consult for an answer.
"Dana. I want to see Dana." Alex paused for a moment, before casting Dr. Mercer a glare-sharper than the one he was already getting, anyway. "...And no. I don't want to infect her, or consume her, before you ask. Bitch."
Dr. Mercer's eyebrows disappeared into the dark of his hood. The virus wanted to see his sister, and it didn't wish to murder her? Clearly it had poor taste in victims- or perhaps good, if it preferred those with a modicum of sense over his milk brained sister. He was quiet for a moment, contemplative. This felt… Familiar. It had no right to be this familiar, considering the former pile of deadly sludge had never indicated sentience. And everytime he saw something new from it, that he thought perhaps he could get excited over, it was as though the joy had been spoiled somehow.
"Very well then. We can set off right away, but you will have to take on some other shape. The halls are riddled with my colleagues at this time of the day- unless you'd prefer to eat your way through witnesses."
Rather than answering verbally, a ripple of tendrils went over Alex's entire form, shifting to that of the second associate he had consumed with practiced ease. He'd broken into enough military bases to know how this worked-hiding in their ranks, avoiding raising any alarm. The last thing he needed was someone getting between Dana and him right now. Rather than waiting for Dr. Mercer, Alex went right for the door, pulling it open and stepping out into the hallway.
Dana had remembered the apocalypse, so Dana had to remember yesterday. Something the scientist couldn't do. If this had anything to do with Blackwatch or the infection… he shook off the thought, leaving his creator in the dust as he paced down the only vaguely familiar hall.
His creator cursed under his breath, and followed after the runaway bioweapon, trying to remember the number Blackwatch gave all Gentek employees for emergencies like this. He would try to handle it himself, of course, but just in case. He didn't actually want to kill his life's work for merely running off like an untrained mutt.
The combination of Dr. Mercer having brought him here the day before, as well as the additional biomass, made his journey to Dana's apartment go much quicker. Once outside, he took to the rooftops, darting across them as a black and red blur to close the distance between him and his sister as swiftly as he could. Once again, there was no Blackwatch around, no Infected or Hives. Whatever was going on… Dana and him seemed to be the only two unaffected. After a heavy landing that left a small crater in an empty parking lot, he made his way to the complex-silently noting that the door he'd burst through yesterday was in perfect condition.
That was before. Currently, he lingered behind Dana at her desk, updating her on the most recent events as she skimmed through her computer for some kind of explanation. Dr. Mercer's memory lapse, the front door being repaired, the earlier hour. Before he could get into much detail, a familiar scent-mixed with sweat-formed in the hallway. Before the scientist could even make it to the door, Alex pulled it open, brow furrowed in his average show of confusion. Rather than say anything, he stepped aside, waiting for the obviously exhausted man to step inside. Why was he so tired? It wasn't that long of a distance. Weird.
Dr. Mercer stumbled inside, heedless to the wordless confusion displayed by his virus, and collapsed onto the wall, just trying to catch his breath, eyes staring blankly at the calendar in front of him. It was September 10th, not 11th. His idiot sister had the date wrong. Finally, he got his lungs filled with enough air to talk, and pushed himself off the wall.
"You're a lot of trouble, Blacklight. I was nearly ready to call Blackwatch if you weren't here." He hissed out, still tired despite being able to talk once more. "What's so special about- her- anyway?"
Blackwatch. It was as though the name had flipped a switch in the virus' mind. One moment, he was fine, merely closing the door behind the scientist. The next, he had Dr. Mercer by the throat, slamming him into the nearest wall as his free hand formed into a set of massive claws. He didn't attack, despite the wild look in his eyes and the spikes jutting out from his back. To a trained eye, the look on his face wasn't rage, but fear. He'd dealt with them-why were they here-
"If you call them, you'll regret it, Bitch." He spat every word, entire body tensed and unusually sharp teeth in vivid view. The sound of footsteps and scent of Dana made him pause, but despite vowing to himself that he wouldn't scare her again, he couldn't pry himself from that bastard Mercer. He would have called Blackwatch, he would have led them directly to Dana. This was for her good. "She's my sister. And she knows more than you."
"Well," He huffed, trying to pry the hand off his neck futilely, "It's a good thing you didn't go on a killing spree then, isn't it? No one knows you exist yet- except me and Dana, apparently." He was certain he'd been told this before, felt the same feelings at the virus calling her its sister. But when? His eyes narrowed, and he could see Dana stepping into the entry hall, and couldn't resist barbing her. "Something's very strange here, why do you expect that good for nothing journalist to be helpful?"
How dare he. How DARE he.
With a roar that bordered on inhuman, Alex flung Dr. Mercer into the wall behind him with everything he had. The man tore right through the wall, landing in a heap of rubble on the kitchen floor with a crash loud enough to wake the entire complex. Alex immediately stalked after him, defending Dana the only thought on his mind as he formed his other claw hand.
"Motherfucker!" He hissed, although he was more mimicking the word from a time he heard Dana use it than anything.
Dana stood where she was with wide eyes, watching Alex as he used her brother- his creator- to redecorate her wall into chunks of rubble. First off, that was her brother he swung around. Second off, that was her goddamn wall. She dragged a hand down her face, weary already. Wasn't accidental time travel like this supposed to be good? Instead she got a very unstable adopted brother glowering at the mildly broken but still breathing body of her actual brother.
"Alex- jesus fuck. Did you really have to break half the wall down?" She sighed, looking out the now dusty kitchen window at familiar red and blue lights. "You got the cops called on us because of this bitch."
Alex followed her gaze to the window; sure enough, even from here, he could catch the sound of sirens and the rushing of boots. Shit. Where there were cops, there were Marines-and where they were, Blackwatch followed. He turned his gaze toward the floor, awkwardly nudging some of the rubble with his foot.
"...Sorry," he mumbled, leaning down just enough to pick up Dr. Mercer and toss him over his shoulder. "What now?"
"Either we run, or you explain how you smashed the wall in on your twin." Dana rolled her eyes, "It's not like you're known here yet, we could get you a decent start."
Confusion flickered across his face for a moment as he considered it. Right-it was September. Dr. Mercer hadn't released the virus yet. Even so, the thought of facing individuals who wanted him dead on a normal day wasn't a fond one. So he shrugged, turning away from his sister so he could open the window. The sirens, louder now that the glass wasn't blocking them, made him grimace a fraction, but he pushed the thought aside. He only knew fight and flight-only one of her options matched either of those.
"Is the safehouse still open?" He was sure she preferred her actual apartment, but it wasn't exactly an option at the moment.
Dana cracked a smile, relieved. This was definitely still the Alex she'd gotten to know. Quiet, careful, very clueless, and most of all, strangely caring. Even though he didn't seem to care for Dr. Mercer (quite the opposite, probably), the way he held him over his shoulder wasn't exactly cruel or painful, like she'd expect of him if he was still spiteful. He was like a firework, explosive one minute silent the next.
"It's been open since July. Friend's been gone awhile. I'll get the keys. Do you want to…" She gestured at the unconscious copy of Alex, "Maybe go a different route?"
Even with Dr. Mercer over his shoulder and the cops nearing their door, her smile seemed to brighten his mood a fraction, even if it was only visible in a brief shudder of tendrils. There'd been an emptiness in his day-to-day existence since she'd been captured by the Hunter, one that didn't get better when she remained unconscious. She was back, now, and that was what mattered. He glanced between her and the window, contemplating it for a moment.
"Probably." He moved his free hand to rest on his head, digging through his memories for a moment. He had plenty of alternate ways to get there; he'd sure been there more times than he had her actual apartment. "Is there anything here you need…? Before we leave."
She glanced to the direction of the hall, where she could hear the cops coming, and rummaged through her work bag for the keys before returning to the messed up kitchen. "Just get us out of here, we can figure the rest out at the Safehouse."
Nothing else needed to be said. Once she came back to the kitchen, he picked her up with his free arm, making sure she was in a comfortable but stable position before climbing out the window with Dana and Dr. Mercer in tow. Climbing without the use of his hands wasn't as difficult as it seemed-all he needed to do was drop from the window, then airdash back to the building to get a running start. Alex sprinted up the wall, not stopping once he hit the rooftop. He leaped from the building, dropping down onto the next before repeating the procedure again. The sooner he could get Dana (...and Dr. Mercer) out of here, the better.
Dr. Mercer came too slowly, head pounding from the impact. Where the hell was he? This ceiling was filthier than his entire house combined. Something cold was on his head, and someone had taken off most of his jackets. He pushed himself up- or tried to, merely dropping back down with a hiss when a dizzy spell knocked him down. He closed his eyes tight, breathing thinly through his nose. His virus had turned on him- and taken him somewhere instead of consuming him. The more time he spent with it, the more bizarre it revealed itself to be.
Dr. Mercer's hiss of pain attracted not the attention of the virus in question, but Dana. She stood in front of where her brother laid, arms crossed and one brow raised as she regarded him. A part of her was happy he wasn't dead-but that was pretty easy to ignore with his decision to degrade her earlier. Missed you too, asshole. She took a seat on the other side of the couch, though not before shoving his legs out of the way.
"I was starting to think he put you in a coma or something." She shook her head, looking toward one of the walls rather than her freshly awoken brother. She started to say something else, but hesitated, only to shove it aside entirely as she finally faced him. "You really don't remember anything about yesterday?"
He cracked his eyes open at a familiar, but very different voice to how he remembered. When did his scared little sister get a backbone? Not from journalism, he figured. It took him a while to get his balance back when she tossed his legs off so casually, gripping the thrift store sofa with a bone white death grip for several moments while she talked. Looks like he'd picked up a mild concussion. Lovely. Her words didn't exactly give him much to orient himself with, either.
"The only odd thing yesterday was finally checking your countless whining texts," He grouched, glaring at a mysterious purple stain on the floor that his head was making dance like the rest of the furniture, before practically spitting out the issue he had with the whole scenario before he lost the ability to speak to the dizziness. "Today's been much more irritatingly unique. Blacklight escaping and coming to find you- it felt like it had done that before somehow."
Dana rolled her eyes at the mention of her 'whining texts', but otherwise frowned, thinking over what he had to say. Jesus, he really didn't remember it at all, did he? She almost wondered if he was just fucking with her, but that'd require a sense of humor-something her older brother was lacking in. She leaned back, thinking through what information she had with a slight furrow of her brow. This was one hell of a story, to say the very least.
But if Bitch was going to keep getting wrapped up in this shit, she might as well give him the rundown.
"Probably because he was here yesterday, with you." She raised a brow, huffing a little through her nose. "You came here, he nearly ripped the door off, and he explained the actual fucking apocalypse to you. But even if Alex and I remember it, you don't have a clue."
She was delusional. She had to be. He wanted to believe it, but he couldn't quite get himself too. The cloying deja vu and the way the explanation clicked right with some blurry, nearly gone, memories did match up with the story. The thought of time travel made his expression sour. The sort of information these two could have on him without him knowing at all… Well. At least Blacklight wouldn't try to ruin his whole life. He'd just infect or consume him, like he had those two meddlesome interns. He could deal with death over having his privacy invaded any day.
"It's… Whatever." He grunted, putting his head in his hands, closing those dark rimmed eyes to get the moonlight to stop irritating him. He didn't want to think about the future or time travel or the apocalypse. He was tired, felt like he had the world's worst hangover, and stuck with two near strangers god knows where. "What's Blacklight doing?"
It's whatever. Yeah, that was probably the most accurate thing he had ever said in a long time.
"Alex," she put emphasis on the name, side-eyeing her brother for a moment, "said he wanted to cook dinner, so he's in the kitchen. Hopefully he's in the kitchen, anyway." She pressed against the back of the couch, trying to see if she could peer into the kitchen from where she was sitting before ultimately giving up. "I hope to hell he didn't get either of our cooking skills."
Dr. Mercer froze, considering the implications of that statement. A virus, who had been sentient for a maximum possible time of 2 years, was cooking them food. The virus who had decided to mimic Alex Mercer. He groaned quietly. The most complex food he made was rice and peas in the microwave, and Dana likely wasn't much better. "Bla-" He paused, then corrected himself, "Alex! What are you cooking?"
There was a momentary pause, followed by the clattering of pans and a just audible, matter-of-fact, "Spaghetti." The clattering continued, before coming to a sudden halt. In its place was the normal, less dangerous sound of someone cooking.
Dr. Mercer and Dana exchanged a glance, unified by the primal terror of cooking food they both shared from growing up without any cooks in the house. Dana got up carefully, padding over to the kitchen to look at the hooded menace lurking in the kitchen more closely. "Just Spaghetti?" She had no idea how to make the stuff, but the amount of pans looked… a little too numerous.
Alex turned to face her just as she stepped through the doorway, a subtle glint in his pale eyes as he held out a plate to her. On it was something that could only barely be called spaghetti-overcooked pasta noodles that had been methodically coated in Nutella. He held the plate out to her without a word, not even offering a fork to eat it with. He seemed pretty proud of his work; after all, humans liked both of these things, and food was bound to make Dana feel better. Always worked for him.
Dana looked at the food. Looked at him. Looked back at the food. "I… Don't think it's a good idea to eat that." She kept up a grimace of a smile, too unsettled by the strange creation to explain why exactly.
Alex furrowed his brow for a moment, visibly confused. He tried to sort it out on his own-why wouldn't this be a good idea to eat? It was two things humans enjoyed, and he combined them, which should lead to the maximum level of enjoyment. Maybe she just didn't know what it was? It did look something like his tendrils, though why the actual fuck would he feed his sister pure Blacklight virus. Assuming it was that, he set the plate down on the counter (shoving away some other pans as he did, though these were also all full of pasta), and retreated further into the kitchen to grab the components. Alex showed her the empty spaghetti box, then the Nutella, all of which he had scraped out.
"It's spaghetti and Nutella," he explained, his expression not shifting from the confused look he so often had. "It's good."
"Have you tried it?" Dana crossed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. Hopefully tasting it would make him realise the horrific mistake he had made in combining those ingredients.
A glance at her. Then a glance down at the plate. This was actually for her, but if she insisted. Stepping away, tendrils snaked out from his body to grab the food, plate and all. He pulled it against his stomach with a splat, before additional tendrils formed to properly consume the meal. Chocolate, with a hint of nut, combined with the taste of… well, pasta. The flavor was gone as quickly as it was there, given the fact he finished it off swiftly. Hm… she was right. It needed something. He nodded to himself as he stepped over to the fridge, pulling it open and digging through until he could find what he was looking for. Something to add flavor… perfect. He slammed the door shut, hard enough to make the whole apartment shudder, before pacing back over with the bottle of mustard.
"This should fix it." Despite the horrified screams of the associates, he took off the lid of the bottle, and proceeded to dump all of its contents on yet another plate of Nutella spaghetti. Again, he offered the plate to his sister.
Dana took the plate. She did not respect this… Insult to food. That she had been served. But she did respect Alex and he had seemed so proud and determined to show her it. She grabbed a fork from the cutlery draw, and slowly, fearfully, lifted a single wrapped strand onto the fork, and up further to her mouth. The moment it touched her lips, the world went dark.
A.N
Second chapter is here, as promised! We're trying to keep them to around 5k so its not a huge jump each chapter- and so we don't run out of chapters haha. Alex is definitely an accidental cursed food connosieur, and no one here knows how to cook. Don't forget to leave a review, follow, or favourite if you enjoyed!