« on: October 01, 2017, 05:26:09 PM »
[size=9]8/16/2017, 05:45 Rhy'din Daylight Time
Batten Tower, Sublevel 7, Vault D[/size]
"De two hours is up, Di."
"You will note that I did say 'approximately' two hours, sir. Nothing is entirely certain when it comes to biology, as you well know."
He grumbled as he rolled his eyes at the detached voice before returning his gaze to the tableau laid before him. The "gurney" was really a reinforced autopsy table, more or less, of his own design, strong enough to withstand stresses upon its frame that were several times greater than what he thought it would have to undergo.
He hoped, anyway. He'd designed it according to the specifications that DIANA had given him. Along with the treatment itself.
On top of the table, secured to its surface by several thick bands of OmniProof fabric, lay his sister, her body covered by a form-fitting black fabric suit that covered her from just under her armpits to just about mid-thigh. Above her, hanging from the ceiling like some bizarre, lethal-looking insect, was the treatment delivery apparatus, ten needle-tipped armatures linked to the central control hub with its reservoirs full of the first stage of the treatment, a silver-and-black swirling substance that refused to be still and instead roiled about in a perpetual maelstrom inside the transparent container.
He turned his attention back to the holographic readouts next to him, watching as his sister's vital signs were displayed for him. They hadn't changed for the last thirty minutes, save for in very slight, almost undetectable ways.
He grumbled and stood up, stretching. He'd been sitting in the chair for almost an hour, since they'd gotten everything set up. "Ah'm gonna go get a drink. Lemme know if anyt'in'..."
He stopped, trailing off, halfway to the door, and turned towards the gurney his sister was strapped to.
Listening to the soft sound of throaty laughter.
Her eyes were closed, but as he looked upon her they opened, gazing up to the ceiling as her laughter grew louder. There was amusement in the sound, as well as a mocking tone, and an undercurrent of something darker, more...wanton, as she spoke.
"Edward. You have me all tied up." She chuckled, long and low, as she raised her head to look at him. "I knew you were kinky like that. You have me all tied up."
He withdrew a step from her, shaking his head. This wasn't right, not the way it was supposed to be. It was his sister there, all right. But those words, that voice.
That was Renna. That was Manticore.
Her lips formed a mocking pout as she saw him take a step back, and then she laughed again. "Oh, come on now. Look at me, Edward. I'm young, fit, attractive...surely you've noticed. You are a man, after all. Aren't you?"
As he watched, she moved under the straps. Not struggling to be free, but rather writhing sensually against them, a low, sensual moan escaping her lips.
"Come, Edward. You want her, just as she wants you. She does, you know. When you first met she wanted you, and some part of her still does, buried deep down where it will never see the light of day again. Surely you've been curious, what it would be like to take this body, were she not your sister." She stopped moving, her smile turning wicked as she watched him where he stood, frozen, transfixed, an expression of fear and grief reflecting the turmoil within as he listened to the virus speak using his sister's voice, her mouth. "You could, you know. No one would know, down here, deep in this vault. If it helps, she isn't your sister right now. She's mine."
That smile widened, her laughter growing louder, crueler. "And you will never get her back, Edward. Never."
She started laughing again, her head falling back on the table, louder, mocking, harsh and cruel. That laughter, echoing in the chamber around them, filling his ears, was the sound of his own personal hell.
And finally, something snapped.
He barely remembered moving, even later, but suddenly he was next to the gurney, his face inches from hers, his hand seizing her around the throat. The table shuddered as he slammed her head back into its surface, his eyes furious as he stared into hers.
Into the eyes of the Manticore.
"You listen t'me. Ah want ya t'get a real good look at dis face. Ah've killed ya before, an' guess what?" His hand tightened around her neck again, her eyes widening as her mouth moved in silence, attempting to make some sound. She failed even to make a strangled peep. "Ah'm gonna do it again."
He pushed her head back against the table again and held it there. "Look good. Dis is de last t'ing yer ever gonna see t'rough dese eyes. Di, start de treatment."
He didn't even look up as he said it, didn't move until the last moment, when he pushed away from her just before the needles found their marks in her flesh, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps.
He stood back and watched as the treatment was injected into her. The Virus tried to struggle, using his sister's body, tried to get away, but there was no chance, no room to maneuver so she could get away. The scream that ripped out of his sister's throat then was one of defiance, of anger and frustration, loud and long...
...and then with a sudden violent shuddering, she fell silent and limp back onto the table.