Dead silence. Yet problems multiplied in its stillness.
Amari Shen had grown tired of it. The core of the bunker was mind-numbingly dull. It only housed silent machines and lifeless screens. However, his boredom and sense of comfort were not the main problems at the time. His main problem was the damned project he'd been forced to finish.
It shouldn't have been completed so quickly, especially not on version sixteen.
Amari paced around the room as he ran a hand through his hair. Eventually, he slumped into his chair in front of the monitors.
The lone researcher remembered the test mouse; it had briefly survived the pressure of 75 pounds. At first, Amari didn't observe any significant changes in the mouse. Not until he'd gassed the container and killed it. Amari sighed, reclining deeper into his chair.
After ten minutes, the mouse had drawn breath once more.
The situation remained entirely unjust. The year was 2030, and Amari applied for head researcher after retiring from the front line of Nacirema's third civil war. A bunch of idiots started a rebellion over doubled taxes. It would probably go down in three years anyway. Amari forced the thought out of his head as he traced the roots on his scalp.
It didn't matter anyway. He'd thought being a researcher would be easier, it wasn't. Every day someone came knocking wondering about the progress of Nacirema's new weapon. That wasn't what science was even for.
Amari felt a sigh escape him as he stared at the ceiling. He figured after two minutes his former squad leader and his team would come busting down the door and seize the sixteenth serum. Soon after that thought, he stood up from his chair and placed his hands in his pockets.
No one made decisions for him.
No one.
He made his way over the bunker's middle counter, gazing at the two injections. One was green, one was red. Amari knew the red one was serum sixteen. However the squad he expected didn't know that. So, he made his choice.
The lone researcher simply took the red injection and removed the safety. Taking off his lab coat, he aimed the needle at his wrist and lined it up with a vein.
Fuck it.
He gently inserted the needle with a short groan. After he pushed the entirety of the liquid into his bloodstream, Amari removed the needle and threw it into the furthest corner of the room he could.
Once it was done, Amari returned to his seat and tapped his fingers against the armrest.
Three. Two. One. With a deafening bang, four individuals entered the room. Captain Ryse–Amari's former squad leader–entered, flanked by his little doormats. They flooded the room, rifles raised and fully decked out in armor.
Well, wasn't that marvelous?
Ryse spoke first, leading the charge of doormats. "Amari…" As he approached slowly, Ryse aimed his rifle at the floor. The researcher opened his mouth to speak, yet closed it upon seeing the four other doormats force their way around him. Two of them even felt the need to hold his shoulders.
"Just turn it in, don't make me do this." Amari felt nothing but disgust for those words. Free will seemed to have visited everyone, but his former captain huh?
Amari scowled and attempted to stand, but the two squad members forced him back down to his chair. Ryse, finally gaining back half his conscience, raised a hand and forced the two doormats to step away. Amari slowly stood with eyes devoid of light. If that was the side Ryse chose then so be it.
Slowly, the researcher made his way over to the counter and picked up the fake serum. Yet contrary to the belief of Ryse, he aimed it at his arm.
"Amari, no!" Ryse lunged. But guess he forgot about his violent little lackeys.
Gunshots echoed through the room as the syringe fell to the ground.
A simple thud.
Amari fell with the fake serum and Captain Ryse stood over him, eyes wide. Soon after, his face scrunched up as he roared at the men behind him.
"YOU RAT BASTARDS! Do you have any idea who that man was?! I should have all of you wastes of sperm executed! ALL OF YOU!" Ryse flailed his arms around, eyes bloodshot. The doormats took a step back, one idiot even had the audacity to talk back.
"But sir, we-" Thump. Thud. Ryse struck the squad member down with the butt of his rifle.
"Shut the fuck up!" Thump.
"I didn't ask for your weak ass excuses!" Thump, thump, thump.
The other three soldiers threw their guns to the ground and ran to hold Ryse in place. Yet even in his old age he remained stronger than those doormats. The captain threw one of them off and slowly shook off each of the three squad members.
"All of you bastards, better count your days." Ryse pointed to each of them, eyes bloodier than the mythical moon as he exited the bunker.
"Fuck!" Only after Ryse was long gone did one of them punch a wall. The other two simply looked at the single doormat blankly. Stupidity really didn't allow for thinking.
"The fuck did we do to deserve this?! Follow the fucking orders?!" Ah, he's a crashout. The other four doormats continued to stare at him, not uttering a word.
"Well, I can think of a few things." From the center of the room, Amari coughed and slowly rose to his feet.
"Holy fucking shit!" Amari wasn't sure who yelled but two of the squad members dove for their rifles. The former researcher simply smiled.
One of the squad members didn't even bother. He sprinted toward Amari barehanded; Amari wondered if his death caused the multiplication of already negative brain cells. Maybe he thought he could tackle him? Amari rolled his eyes.
He was so incredibly slow. It felt like it would take him three minutes just to get within arm's reach of Amari.
The former researcher's fist rocketed forward, caving into the doormat's chest and launching him into the far wall. Well, he probably died. Super speed and strength were definitely part of the package.
The other two squad members had finally seized their guns and aimed them at him. Congrats? It wasn't like that was gonna change anything.
Amari's heart was beating so fast through that entire ordeal that he genuinely wondered if it'd burst. Strangely, his vision sharpened; the world was now in HD. His body ached as the squad member slowed down–he saw it all. How the gun's trajectory settled on his head as the man's finger slowly pulled the trigger. Amari tilted his head.
Bang. The former researcher tilted his body from side to side.
Bang. Bang. Bullets zipped past him one after another faster than he could react. That was quite valuable info. He couldn't dodge bullets, but he was damn sure able to dodge people.
He had already moved before the sixth shot rang out. The shooter's eyes hadn't widened yet when Amari appeared at his side. A single strike, a karate chop to the neck.
But things didn't go as planned. Amari's hand didn't stop at the neck; it kept going. He sliced through his entire neck. The former researcher simply sat there and blinked, watching the head fall as blood slowly sprayed in the air. He paused for a moment.
Then, Amari shrugged. Sucked to suck.
"You're next, buddy." As he turned to the third soldier, the former researcher watched him fall to the floor and try to rapidly scoot away from him. If he was scared he shouldn't have tried to hand Amari bullshit on a stick. He also should've expected to have it returned.
Five steps echoed through the bunker.
Amari strolled over. The terrorized man hit his back on the blood-splattered wall as he stuttered.
"W-What the fuck are you?! Fucking mon-" Shick. Amari blinked, and the next moment, he found his hand buried deep in the squad member's chest.
Silence returned to the room once more and the former researcher looked around the bunker.
He sighed, returning to his chair. He slowly looked down at his hands and clenched them over and over again. Fate was screwing him violently.
Suddenly–
Pain.
Amari doubled over in his chair, clutching his sides as his stomach twisted in multiple directions he didn't even know were possible. He gasped for air. His chest tightened as his vision went red. His entire body grew heavier by the second.
"The hell is…" He slowly stood, eyes darting across the room. "Happening to me?" He breathed as his vision went black. He felt himself move, yet he wasn't sure where.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself knelt over the squad member he'd thrown to the wall. Dagger-sharp teeth sank into the man's neck as warm liquid slid down his throat.
Fabulous. He was a damn vampire. Of course he'd created a damn vampire.
He recoiled, wiping his mouth, but the taste lingered. Sweet, savory, salty, what the fuck? What the hell type of shit was that? Guess his DNA thought tricking his brain would make him start munching on civilians. Amari shook his head as he stood, closing and opening his fists a few times before rubbing his arms.
God. Motherfucking. Dammit.
He breathed heavily as one hand ran across his head and the other massaged his forehead.
"The fuck did I do to god?" The lone researcher turned to return to his seat. However, he didn't get the chance to sit.
Footsteps.
They were quick, heavy, and rhythmic. Amari guessed it was another trained soldier. He even noticed how clearly he heard them; he could pinpoint the exact location and pace. Four halls away, crossing a stairwell, metal door hinges squealing in the distance. Vampiric hearing was convenient at least.
Amari turned toward the entrance. The door swung open as a familiar figure stepped in.
Captain Ryse.
The older man paused, blinking at the scene–the blood, the corpses, the mess. Then at the one standing in the center: black jeans, black turtleneck, pale skin, white-touched hair… But most important of all, were the glowing red eyes.
Amari.
Blood still dripped from his chin. His hands were red.
His eyes—dull. But his lips curled into a soft, knowing smile.
Ryse just stared. "What in the fuck?"
Amari raised an eyebrow. "You and I both, Ryse. You and I both, man."