He woke up with a crick in his neck from hanging his head over the chair. It didn't surprise him to see that Charon was awake and alert. As he stood up and stretched, he noted that Charon was drinking from a new bottle of beer.
"Dammit, man. You never take a rest, do you?" Knox coughed loud and rough. He lit a cigarette. "Do I talk in my sleep?" Charon grunted. Knox pulled on his Tunnel Snake jacket over his bare skin and strapped on his boots.
"I'm gonna go check on Doc." Knox turned to see Charon finishing his bottle before walking over to him. "You're following?" Charon nodded. They left the Ninth Circle. 3 am. Not many were up and about. Patches was slumped next to Snowflake; spit bubbles on his lips bursting in drunken sleep. The barber was surprisingly awake, though, hitting on Jet. They walked past them and headed to Doc Barrows. Doc was asleep. Knox had never seen the doctor in slumber. He looked close to peaceful - well, as close to peaceful as a ghoul could look. Knox wanted to touch, but decided against and took a seat beside Test.
He didn't know how time passed but when he came to, he had rested his head onto the bed where Test was. And Test was fidgeting. He lifted his eyes and his presence made Test growl – it was the one ferals did when they're going to pounce. The recognition Test had in his eyes was gone, replaced by a kind of blood thirst. A strangled cry shocked Knox to consciousness as he reached for the 'calming down thing in a syringe' with slippery fingers. The strangled cry became a strangled scream as Test heaved against the restraints. Knox struggled to find Test's vein in a post-sleep haze. Test roared. A knee came loose and it smacked Knox in the chest; the syringe dropped to the floor with a clatter. Winded, Knox grappled with the restraints. It was then that the claw came fast at him, scratching him across the face. It ripped his lips to shreds. Knox spun around, watching his blood spatter the curtains as pain numbed his mouth. He faintly realised he was in trouble when a long limb pulled him and he fell across the bed in a crumpled heap. The same claw sank into his flesh where neck met shoulder. Knox shouted. He shoved the hand away from the abused flesh. Heat pooled out of the wounds. The other claw came loose from the restraints. It aimed for his face again. Test screamed. Then Knox watched as Test's face burst into red mist, the inhuman scream cut short by the deafening bang. Pieces of face slid down the glass behind the bed around a long crack in the shattered glass. Knox coughed as he took deep, ragged breaths that stung his broken lips with each puff of breath. Numb. Numb everywhere.
Pale eyes peered into his face. This close, he could make out very minute flecks of blue swirling in them.
"Fuck," he murmured, making blood spill down his jaw. A tight grip pulled him up. Dizzy, Knox closed his eyes and rested against the grip till the wave of nausea passed.
"You're a mess, kid," Doc Barrows' awed voice travelled to him from somewhere to his right. Calloused palms on him. Knox swallowed his reply. It was hot everywhere. Scorching. This was crazy. He actually felt faint. Mustering every ounce of energy, Knox forced open his eyes and stood up, brushing past his bodyguard. He fumbled for a Stimpak and pierced it into the wounds on his neck, moaning from pain ricocheting in a very sensitive area. Someone handed him a bloodpack. He ripped it apart with clumsy bites and guzzled it up, not knowing if he was swallowing more of his own blood or the one from the pack. Nails seemed to rake the inside of his body as his mind awoke finally. He inhaled more of that sweet copper. He could feel the pleasurable healing began as he licked his abused lips. Another Stimpak into his lips this time; his lips swelled with pinpricks of sudden heat. Numbness gave way to pain and Knox trembled when the shreds of his lips stitched itself back together. The same calloused palm held him steady and pushed another Stimpak into his neck. Knox jerked into the rough touch, hissing as the substance surged through his veins. It was an unfamiliar touch. A side glance met the eyes of his bodyguard who was watching him with something heavy as he held the Stimpak steady. Something sparked underneath Knox's ribs, causing a burning ripple down his spine. Knox closed his eyes, took in every feeling coursing through his body and finally breathed deeply.
"Shit. Doc. Tell me something I don't know," he rasped. He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, catching trails of crimson on his jaw. Not wanting to waste the lifejuice, he slurped those trails like it was his final meal, dragging his tongue over his skin in hungry swipes. Knox shrugged Charon's hand off him because… it was getting him bothered. He glanced at headless Test and shuddered. That's fucked up. "Totally fucked up," he said breathlessly. Facing his bodyguard again who had a hard stare trained on him, Knox spoke. "Thanks man. You're fucking awesome." THAT came out like a husky baritone. Charon nodded. Knox walked to the destroyed feral to take note of the torn restraints. One knee was still tied to the bed. Rest in peace, Test. The smell of stale, congealed blood was cloying but Knox nudged the dead body with an elbow. A kind of sadness settled in the pits of his stomach as he remembered how Test seemed to progress into 'humanity'. Seemed to. Knox untied the leather strap on the knee.
"Your fondness for rotting things amazes me," Doc Barrows commented as he stepped closer to Knox, flashing a light to his eyes to see the pupils' dilation. Knox stared into the light.
"It ain't the rotting. It's the…" his voice trailed off. Knox ran a stained palm over the partially healed wounds on his neck, the sensitive skin twitching. That felt better than it should. He raised his eyes and caught the Doc's confused gaze. "Are you okay, Doc?"
"I really need to work on the cure," he sighed. Knox watched as Doc looked sadly at the remains, before he picked up his notes to start again.