Our love's the perfect crime, Crazy x Spotty {M}aybe Mature

[Spotty]

There was never a child that was so melancholy as Darcy Rilke. From an infant, she was quiet and withdrawn, never fussy or demanding. She was the epitome of proper behavior and primness and many were shocked to learn of her age at all.

It was uncommon for a child of six years old to take such pains of keeping her dress clean and wrinkle free. But, Darcy was not a very common child. She refused to relate to any other being and had it not been for her twin who served as the spokesperson between them, it was unlikely anyone truly would know what was going on behind her blue eyes.

The Rilkes showered their two children with every luxury to be had. As directors of Raehall Center, one of the most prestigious and well funded research centers in the country, working to serve a cure for the "mutations" that had begun to ravage the world, they..were among the richest and renowned scientists in their field. With a beautiful home and the means to live happily ever after, it was...definitely shattering when their set of twins, Darcy and Edwyn, were found to be afflicted with the curse. But at least within the facility...their parents could be nearby...

Darcy didn't understand.
She wanted to have her room, in her house, with her mother and father. She didn't understand being left in this...room. And why couldn't Edwyn stay with her?

She begged and pleaded with her mother and father; she promised to be better, to make Edwyn be better too. She cried until she was hoarse. And, eventually she stopped eating and sleeping altogether. Without Edwyn and her parents, she..didn't want to live.

They began to drug her to force cooperation, after instruction by the lead scientists, Mr. and Mrs. Rilke. While the Rilke twins were the youngest persons within the program, they were to be shown no lenience.

But why couldn't she at least be with Edwyn?

Had she any real understanding of her own abilities, she would have spoken to him...but her telepathy was shaky and sporadic. Occasionally she could read the minds of the scientists that came to administer different tests or force her to sleep or eat, and..it frightened her. And...she had no idea she had control over any of it...

She tried not to move very often. Sitting on her bed, lost in her own thoughts, hoping that Edwyn would...somehow appear with her, made them come to her cell less. The second she seemed active, their interest in her returned. Being morose was her typical nature, so...resorting to her thoughts and retreating there wasn't complicated for the child.

Brushing a lock of silverish hair behind her ear, the girl glanced toward the single light in the ceiling. Why wasn't there any windows? She wanted to see the outside...she didn't even know how long she'd been there. Shivering, her gaze snapped towards the hall at the sound of footsteps and shouting. The screams and crying of this place...gave her nightmares. ...did Edwyn have nightmares here too?

"I just want Edwyn," she murmured to herself, lowering her head to stare at her hands in her lap.

[LadyCrazy]

Since he was young, he was always assured by his parents that nightmares couldn't hurt him. As soon as he woke up, they told him that the nightmare would go away and it wouldn't trouble him anymore.
But this hadn't gone away. It didn't matter any more if he was asleep, awake, unconscious or conscious...the nightmare continued on and on. Though he was young, Reima was not ignorant to the state of the world. He knew that people were turning on one another; people with "mutations" were being targeted by those without any abilities. Hatred seemed easy enough for people to feel, especially when they were dealing with something that was foreign to them. But...at the same time...

Reima and his older brother had possessed abilities, yet their younger sister was as normal as their parents. Even though they were "different" and, according to some, different species altogether, their family functioned as any would. The panic and loathing that was almost natural to the general population of the world didn't apply to them. For a while they were able to live peacefully, but as the conflicts grew worse, even their family had been affected.
Ilario had left to fight them, the ones that were hurting the people like him and Reima. He had left to protect his family and ensure that there could be a future for them. He had left...and the very ones he was attempting to fight came to their house.

A shudder ran through his pain wracked body and he roughly shook his head, in a desperate attempt to not think about that night. His own kidnapping and the murder of his sister oftentimes plagued his sleeping and waking hours, proving to be much more painful than any of the injections or tortures that the scientists here could inflict on him. The men that came for him had been hurting his sister, and in his panic he lost control over his ability. That very thing led to a trigger being pulled...and a bullet piercing through Eveline's body. She had died before his eyes, and he hadn't been able to do anything to help her.
In a sense, he felt as though he deserved the horrors that he was experiencing. He didn't want to have to face his brother or his parents, as he was the reason that Eveline was killed.

He had been mostly unresponsive when he was brought here, barely noticing or caring of the discussions that had decided his fate. Ultimately he was to be referred to as 18-5-9-13-1.
"18" was a label for the power that he possessed, which was the manipulation of darkness and shadows.
"5" meant that he was the fifth individual brought into this facility with that ability.
"9-13" was the specific testing that was to be done on him throughout how long he happened to survive. As he had been moved to the proper area of the facility, he had been told along the way that it wasn't likely that he would survive. Among the tests that were performed on the "mutated" people within that facility, "9-13" was the only one that hadn't had a single person survive beyond the initial tests that were performed.
At least not before Reima's stay there.
"1" indicated the number of people that had survived past the initial tests.
The scientists had been stunned, yet elated when Reima continued to live, and he was soon transferred to the most secure location within the facility. Now that someone had finally lived through the first tests, they weren't willing to allow his escape.
The fact that he was eleven years old didn't factor into their decision in the slightest. He wasn't a person to them, he was just a lab rat that had the benefit of being able to speak. They could learn more than what their science told them by speaking to him...provided that he cooperated. As screams were a commonplace sound in this place, it was obvious that they had methods to persuade the unwilling to speak.

Reima lifted his head from the ground, almost instantaneously overwhelmed with a wave of nausea. He whimpered and placed his head back onto the cold floor, curling as tightly as he possibly could. His eyes shakily slid shut as the nauseous feeling grew more intense. The injection he had been given earlier was finally taking effect, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming out of the pain. He had learned early enough that screaming only made everything hurt worse, so he had tried to restrain his reactions to whimpers at the least...though more often than not, his efforts ended in failure. He clutched his head in his hands as the feeling continued to grow more and more intense, unable to restrain his screams any longer.

I...I didn't want...I didn't mean to kill her..I'm sorry...please, Ilario...please make it stop.

[Spotty]

Though they didn't make exceptions for any of the beings kept within the facility, Darcy was allowed the courtesy of her own name. This fact was something she wasn't exactly aware of...after all, it wasn't as if she was permitted contact with any of the other individuals confined within the center. Aside from the various scientists that came to her room, she had no contact with anyone at all. And despite longing for her brother, she'd rather keep it that way.

New screams caused her to press her hands to her face, shaking very slightly. She wanted her mother and father... why wouldn't they come to see her? They promised that so long as she was good, no harm would come to her...but she'd been good...and she continued to be stuck with needles, injected with chemicals that hurt her, prodded and examined...why wouldn't they tell her what she had done wrong to deserve this?

I...I didn't want...I didn't mean to kill her..I'm sorry...please, Ilario...please make it stop.

The girl frowned, lifting her head to blink at the empty cell before her. "Who said that?" She tried allowed, voice hoarse from disuse. Her hands slipped around her waist, tightening in a lost sense of security. "...hello?" she whispered to the room.

Finding that she was very much alone, she resorted to her thoughts, closing her eyes out of desperation.
...wh-who are you?

[LadyCrazy]

Any and all thoughts that he may have been able to entertain were shattered as the pain continued to worsen. Though he wasn't truly aware of it, he began to sob in addition to his screams, wanting nothing more than for the pain to stop. Yet, he knew that this was only the beginning of the pain he would experience, possibly for a few days. Time had become meaningless to him, though...and it was only marked within the scientists' notes on the progress the tests were making on him.

...wh-who are you?

His eyes flew open when he "heard" the voice, his gaze snapping all across the room in front of him. Though he didn't have any real way to describe the voice...he had a sense that the "speaker" was female. He shuddered and shut his eyes once more, trying to think despite the overwhelming pain. Reima forced himself to focus on the voice, instead, and where it had originated from. He had no real concept of telepathy...but he felt as though the voice was more within his own mind rather than something that had been spoken by another.]

I...I'm Reima...w-who are you?

The pain of the chemicals flowing through his bloodstream was easier to isolate in his mind, and though he still felt it...it was more tolerable with the knowledge that there may be someone else nearby. He was terrified of being alone, of dying alone. While he'd like to believe that he'd get out of this place, the longer he remained here the less sure he became that he'd leave alive.

[Spotty]

Reima, you're not one of them, are you?
She returned the question with as much bravery as she could muster, feeling as though she might burst into a fresh bout of tears if she found it was not to be true.

Since he had volunteered his name, she found it only fair that she returned the courtesy.

My name is Darcy...
If he were one of the scientists..or the other workers of the facility, she had likely signed a death notice. But, she had the...distinct feeling that he wasn't...not only that he wasn't, but that he wasn't much older than her. And how he knew that it was a...masculine "speaker", she didn't know.

D-Do you know where my br-brother is?
This was a desperate question, but...she had to know what had happened to him. She refused to accept that he was anything but within a different room. Dying...he couldn't die... She would have known, even if it wasn't impossible.

Darcy could empathize with the terror of being alone...and this contact, be it minor, was keeping her from losing the remaining shreds of sanity and consciousness of her personality and person.

[LadyCrazy]

"One of them"? No...I'm not...

The scientists and workers within this place terrified him. Never before had he been treated as though he weren't human...yet they did that with ease. He knew that he didn't deserve this treatment, and that he was as human as they were. However, with every time that he was referred to by his serial number, wasn't spoken directly to and was continuously injected with chemicals that harmed him...he felt less and less human.
He couldn't be sure if this voice he was conversing with was someone else, or just a creation of his own mind...but at the moment, he didn't care. Speaking to her and using his actual name was helping to restore what humanity he felt he had lost.

His screams slowly cycled to silence, and his breathing became more regulated as he diverted all of his attention to the voice, desperately clinging to it to escape the reality of his situation.
When this "Darcy" posed a question concerning her brother, Reima flinched. He thought of his own brother, surely...but he felt horrible that others were missing their family as well.

No, I haven't...I haven't seen anyone else here, other than...them. I'm sorry, Darcy.

Though he had only been speaking to her for a short while, Reima felt...almost a need to help and protect Darcy. He couldn't repent to Eveline for what he had done, but maybe he could help Darcy, at least. He didn't want anyone else to die because of him.

[Spotty]

...oh...
While she had felt immediate relief at the announcement that he wasn't one of the scientists or the other horrible persons that worked within this building, her minimal bit of hope was dashed when Reima replied in the negative to both of her questions.

Tears welled up in her eyes, the action completely involuntary. She hadn't done anything to deserve this treatment. And...she definitely did nothing to deserve having her brother taken away. Somewhere along the line, she'd developed a false hope that if she was good...and went through the "procedures" with little fuss, Edwyn....he'd be allowed to come back.

She began to retreat back to herself, thoroughly distraught and disappointed once more, but... something caused her to pause.

...is it okay...if I...t-talk to you still?

[LadyCrazy]

He wanted to say something to her to help her...but he wasn't sure what that would be. As far as the subject of his own brother went, he was both hoping for and dreading Ilario's arrival. There weren't any real emotions or thoughts that could be expressed in words; Reima just knew that he'd see Ilario again. He had to believe that. If he didn't...he wouldn't survive.

I...I'm really sorry, Darcy.

The fact that Darcy had been silent for so long was beginning to worry him, as well as the sense of extreme sadness he felt coming from her. When she began to draw away from contact with his mind, Reima felt a surge of panic rush through him. The pain from the injection was still assaulting his body...but while speaking to Darcy, it was almost as though that pain was being experienced by another person. With the beginnings of her retreat, the pain was registering within his mind once more. A choked cry forced its way from his throat as he desperately pressed his hands to his head.
As abruptly as she had begun to leave, Darcy returned, and with her return his pain was banished.

He shakily lowered his hands from his forehead, moving to wrap his arms around his form instead.

Y-yeah, it's okay.
Though talking wouldn't make this horrible place vanish...at least they could be distracted from its existence. That was the most that they could ask for at this point.

[Spotty]

The apology caused her to blink, slipping her arms tighter around her person. It wasn't Reima's fault that her brother was missing. And...she didn't think it was Reima's fault that she was being treated this way.

You don't have to apologize, Reima. I'm sorry...that you can't find Ilario.

While she felt completely miserable herself, she could sense that the feeling was common between them. She was too young to recognize any cliche such as "misery loves company", but...having something in common with anyone was a comfort she hadn't shared in a long time.

Do you think maybe Ilario and Edwyn are together?

If Reima was missing Ilario...and she was missing her own brother, perhaps they were together...and then they wouldn't have to be sad like she or Reima was feeling.

Almost...afraid that the answer would be in the negative, Darcy continued, finding solace in her own "voice" and in Reima's.

I'm six. Six and a half. She corrected, knowing that she had been here for a long time, but whether or not it had been longer or shorter than six months, she hadn't any idea. So is Edwyn. He's my twin. He and I are alike in everything but our personalities...that's what my mother always says. He talks quite a bit, but...I prefer to be quiet.

She frowned at the previous thought, finding that it might not seem...thoroughly accurate as she was speaking so freely to him. Aloud, anyway. Edwyn likes to talk more than I do.

Do your parents work here too?

[LadyCrazy]

Reima froze out of confusion when Darcy mentioned Ilario. He didn't think that he had mentioned him before...the only thought he had on his older brother had been before he spoke to Darcy, and he had no idea that she had picked up on said thought. He shook himself out of his confusion, in order to respond to Darcy.

I...it's alright. It's not your fault that I can't find him.

He tightened his arms around himself, drawing a deep and shuddering breath. He was well enough aware that the pain from the injections continued to grow, much like they always did, but there was a certain solace to be found in speaking with Darcy. He didn't know why speaking with her made him less aware of the pain...but if these conversations would continue to benefit them both, he would want to continue to speak with her. If he didn't have anyone to talk to, he doubted that he'd remain sane for very much longer.

He froze again at Darcy's next question. While he was positive that Ilario wasn't in this place...he didn't want to automatically dismiss that. He could tell that Darcy was worried for her brother...and he didn't want to say or do anything that would worsen the matter.

Maybe...

He didn't get a chance to say much else as Darcy continued to "speak", listening in silence as she explained a bit about herself, Edwyn and her parents. A frown crossed his face when Darcy mentioned that her parents worked here. He couldn't imagine any parents sending their own children to this hell...he felt terribly for Edwyn and Darcy both. Those people didn't deserve to be their parents.

No, my parents don't work here. They're...I don't know where they are.

He swallowed, struggling not to break down as his thoughts drifted to his parents and his family.
More specifically, Eveline.

I...some men came and took me away from my family. My parents don't even know where I am.

[Spotty]

If Darcy's "voice" had been saddened before, she only continued to grow gloomy as Reima explained his own circumstance of being here. It was impossible to not be convinced now that this was a...very bad place. But why would her parents work for a bad place? And why...why would they take her to this bad place? She and Edwyn...they didn't mean to... they didn't...

I'm really sorry, Reima. Darcy repeated in a mournful, apologetic fashion. She wanted Edwyn..and she wanted Reima to have his family back and Ilario.

While she was "silent" she didn't break off the mental connection between them, instead considering what she should "say" next. As she admitted to herself and to Reima in thought, she wasn't especially gregarious, nor was she overmuch talented in conversation.

Carefully and concisely, Darcy explained her family to Reima, from Edwyn, her identical twin and his various habits and mannerisms, to her parents and their position within this facility. She described the house she once lived in, a long with the bedroom she shared with Reima. The toys she left behind, the large yard she'd had all to herself and Edwyn's to play were described. Darcy told Reima about her old school teacher...and the boys that picked on her. And how Edwyn always stuck up for her.

As she offered this explanation, she'd settled back in her bed, closing her eyes, and allowed her eyelids to grow heavier and heavier. This was...the first instance where she'd wanted to sleep and it wasn't a drug induced state of unconsciousness.

Will you tell me about your family, Reima?

[LadyCrazy]

His intention had never been to upset her further, but there had been no other way to explain how he had been brought here. Of course, he hadn't mentioned the full story...but that was understandable. He didn't intend to speak about what happened to his younger sister for a while yet, if ever. His actions had led to her death...and he didn't want to lose the only person he could talk to. If Darcy knew that, he wasn't so sure that she'd want to continue to talk to him.

It's not your fault...I'm sorry that you were sent here, too.
Having his whole family back would be impossible, but at the very least he could have his parents and Ilario back again...provided that Ilario hadn't gotten killed in his fight against the people that wanted to hurt those with abilities.

Reima listened in silence as Darcy told him about her family, only interjecting to ask the occasional question. Otherwise he just let her talk, feeling worse for her the more he learned. It was blatantly obvious that she and her twin were close to one another...and if that was the case, he didn't know why her parents would break them apart like that. Why any parent would do anything to harm their child was beyond Reima's understanding, especially to someone as young as Darcy. Granted, he wasn't much older than her...but...she shouldn't have to be here.

He frowned when Darcy asked him to tell her about his family. He couldn't not mention Evelyn if he talked about his family...and he wasn't sure if he was prepared for that. Nevertheless, he couldn't say no to her request. He'd at least try to talk about his own family.
It took him a short while to mentally prepare himself, but he did begin to speak about his family. He told Darcy about his parents, how they didn't have abilities but didn't treat him or Ilario any differently. He also told her about the time where Ilario left the home to fight to end places like the one they were stuck at now, and of the various letters and packages they had received from Ilario while he was away.
As he spoke, he found himself falling asleep as well, despite the pain that was raging throughout his body. Before he did fall asleep, he mentioned Evelyn and how he had promised to look out for her while Ilario was gone. For once, the realization that he had broken that promise didn't overwhelm his conscious mind.

He was plagued with nightmares instead.


~~


Reima spoke to Darcy on a regular basis since then, always looking forward to the times that they would speak, or just share in one another's company. More often than not, silences stretched between them, but it was comforting. As the days passed by, he furiously tried to think of ways in which he could reunite Darcy with her brother. He was occasionally taken from his room for some of the experiments that were done on him, if just so that the scientists would be better able to monitor his reactions to what they did to him. Reima was absolutely terrified of the scientists within the facility, especially the scientist that had been specifically chosen to monitor him both when he was in his room and outside. The music that the scientist played on the large stringed instrument he carried with him was far more haunting than soothing, as the notes were punctuated with the screams and cries of others within the facility...as well as his own screams.

He rarely spoke to the scientist. In fact, the only times that Reima was willing to speak to the man were when he was asking questions about what the chemicals were doing to Reima. Even then, his answers were short and quiet.
One day, however, the scientist came to Reima with much different news. He explained to Reima that the directors of the facility were going to come see him later on in the day, and that he had better be on his best behavior. Reima wasn't quite sure how to react to that. He was scared, surely, but also confused as to why the directors wanted to see him. From the way the scientist had announced it, Reima gathered that the directors didn't make a habit of visiting those kept within the facility. He didn't know what made him different than the rest, but he was positive that he wanted it to stay that way.

Reima loosely wrapped his arms around himself, his gaze fixed on the floor at his feet. No experiments had been preformed on him as of today, so he would be better able to speak to the directors. He was sitting on his bed as he waited for them to arrive, a feeling of dread building up within him as time slowly ticked by.
He didn't want to be here. Why couldn't Ilario find him?

[Spotty]

Discovering the method of speech with Reima was both a blessing, but...severely damning. As the days cycled into months and she was more readily able to create a connection with Reima, by force and of her own doing than by whim or accident, her curiosity got the better of her.

The girl was able to pick up on the various scientists' thoughts. When they passed through her cell, the room or even the hall beyond her room, she could easily access their thoughts and even...persuade them to do various things, like pause or blink an additional time. After assuring herself that she was actually able to do this...she confessed to Reima. He hadn't reacted like she thought he would. He...was angry and warned her to stop at once. But how could they know she was the one behind the whims? How could they suspect her? Reima was immovable in the argument...and because she could not bear to argue with him, nor to be without her only companion..she ended the dangerous game.

She had only wanted to practice...in hopes of having her brother returned to her...

As her powers became more evident and her health improved from the friendship she continued to build with Reima, the treatments began anew, and it was often Darcy's screams were heard through the night.

Though neither Reima or Darcy could know such a thing, it had been several months since their unlikely "meeting" that Mr. and Mrs. Rilke made the seasonal, quarterly visit to Raehall Center. This tour was not just for the sake of visiting the compound four times a year, but also after hearing so much about a strange boy that continued to live through treatment meant to end his life.

"I just can't understand it," Samantha Rilke murmured for at least the hundredth time since receiving the records mailed to them from the Center. Said records were tacked on a clipboard that she flipped through, frowning to herself in concentration, "That stubborn one at Lumusi Center finally let go. Monsters."

The woman was middle-aged, her mousy brown hair graying in splotches. She wore glasses and wasn't traditionally considered pretty, though she was slim and not thoroughly helpless appearance wise. Her white coat was standard of the other scientists working within this facility, though hers was worn and had clearly been slept in. Her hair was half-heartedly pulled back from her face, revealing little makeup on her features. Samantha Rilke cared more for her books, notes, and experiments far more than her clothing or appearance.

"Are you listening to me?" Samantha glanced up towards her husband with a lifted brow, lips settling into another frown. She doubted he was distracted by the prospect of setting foot into the establishment their own children were housed -- what an embarrassment -- after all, he was the one that readily advocated sending the mutated children here. (The gene mutation, perhaps it had been because they had the pair at such a later age... mid-thirties wasn't the ideal age to become parents.)

If he wasn't bothered by the thought of their...disposed of children, it must have been something else. "You're still angry that I wanted to sit by the window on our flight?" Her lips twitched slightly as she teased him, the silent laughter reflecting in the startling blue eyes she shared with her children.

He was probably distraught over the rebel group of mutated beings that had recently destroyed one of their facilities on the east coast, near Boston. Personally, she tried not to think about it, and trusted the militant government to stifle the terrorist groups. They'd lost a minimal amount of money from the facility and retaliated by pouring more money into the various Centers for security. It wasn't as if they weren't exceedingly wealthy.

Her gaze lingered over his face as she paused in her walking, looking past her husband and towards the door behind him. Here it was, 18-5-9-13-1.

[LadyCrazy]

Glaring at the wall wasn't that productive an activity to indulge in, nor was it entirely safe to do while walking. Those facts were far from his mind at the moment, and even if he did entertain those thoughts...well, the latter one didn't apply. At least not here.

After so many visits to the Raeshall Center, Robert Rilke could walk the hallways blinded. The occasional screams that he heard were ignored, as they always had been. Sure, animals felt pain...but that didn't mean that he'd have to sympathize with that. Besides, these monsters were doing humanity a favor. If they could discover how these mutations occurred, they could stop others from sharing their fate.

His hair was graying, both from the stress this job brought along with the genetics his family had. Hmph, at the very least, he still had a full head of hair, unlike his older and much balder brother. His eyes, though blue like his wife's, were not nearly as striking. As a matter of fact, they were rather...dull. He spared even less time for his appearance than his wife, and it was often joked among their employees (out of his hearing, of course) that if he were to ever crack a smile, the world would go up in flames. The man wasn't grumpy or taciturn...he just had no time for jokes when there was a cure to be found.

Robert was jolted from his thoughts by his wife's question. He tore his gaze away from the wall in favor of glancing at her. ...damnit, she had been talking, hadn't she?
He was saved the effort in trying to recall what she had been saying when she voiced her next question. Both his eyebrows lifted, his lips slightly twitching in response. "Promise me that I can have the window seat on the next flight?"
It wouldn't be very obvious to anyone other than Samantha, but his own response was posed in a teasing manner as well. The monotone that he spoke in only had the slightest of fluctuations, ones that not very many could pick up on.

He kept from glaring at the wall after that, his eyes drawn down to the clipboard in Samantha's hands. A slight frown crossed his face momentarily as he scanned over the file he and his wife had gone over numerous times. His thoughts mirrored Samantha's earlier sentiments; this didn't make any sense at all. Of course, most of the other subjects that had been put through this very experiment had been adults...perhaps 18-5-9-13-1's adolescence was the saving grace?

He shook his head. They'd figure it out eventually...or this one would die soon, too. As a scientist, he wanted to learn more about this creature, but his revulsion of their kind made him hope that they would be talking to a soon to be corpse.

Robert looked up at his wife, dismissing his thoughts on the subject they were about to see for themselves. When they finally reached the door, he turned to face it, ignoring the room that was across the hallway altogether. After inputting the proper code that would open the door for him and Samantha, he slipped inside the room, allowing his wife to enter the room first. With that, he turned his attention to the boy within the room, his eyebrows lifting higher.


~~


Reima flinched when he heard the door open, glancing up at the two people in the doorway for a second or two before hastily lowering his gaze back to the ground. In the back of his mind, he recognized that they seemed...familiar, almost, but he was far too afraid of what this situation meant to acknowledge that. He didn't say a word to the pair, both out of his fear and because he doubted they wanted him to say anything unless he was spoken to.
He forced his arms to drop back to his side, his gaze still firmly fixed at the ground at his feet. He only hoped that they would leave him alone soon...at least then he could talk to Darcy.

[Spotty]

Mrs. Rilke's reply came in the form of a snort as she shook her head, a momentary lapse in her grim expression as she regarded the clipboard in her grasp. As the door opened, she nodded to Robert, and passed through the doorway. Without so much as a spare glance for the child, the woman examined the various machines monitoring Reima's vitals and the functions within his body. Everything seemed normal... well, as normal as these creatures could be, she amended the thought with a thoughtful frown.

She handed the clipboard to her husband, removing her glasses and folding them carefully to be placed in the pocket of her white jacket. Within her pocket, she produced a pair of latex gloves, slipping them onto her hands. Reaching for the clipboard, she took the syringe and needle from the packet of papers. Needle in hand, she crossed the room to the child's side. She didn't speak to him, nor murmur any words of comfort, instead she firmly took a hold of his arm, plunging the needle into his forearm, and drew blood from his vein. The only dignity and mercy she seemed to spare for Reima was to clean the area with a cotton ball and rubbing alcohol to keep the area sterile. Once the syringe was full of Reima's blood, she withdrew the needle, placing the lid over the needle, and returned it to Robert.

Untucking a second needle and syringe from the clipboard, she took a bottle of a purplish liquid and filled the syringe with the liquid. She tapped the side of the syringe to get the air bubbles out of the liquid, then pressed the needle to his flesh. This was the latest development of steroids that seemed to repress the effects of the mutations, but the scientists of Raehall had argued and tried to reason with the Rilkes, stating bluntly that this combination of chemicals would have little effect. Not on 18-5-9-13-1.

Samantha's gaze flicked back to the machines monitoring Reima's mental processes when a combination of beeping signified that there was a sudden change.

Reima? Reima, what's wrong?

The woman regarded 18-5-9-13-1 with curiosity. Was he about to become violent? What else could explain the significant change. To protect herself, Samantha slipped her hand into her pocket, touching the tazer she kept there. "Is something wrong with the equipment, Robert?"