Dark Creations Boxed Set (Books 1-3)

by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

Chapter 9

  Eugene opened his eyes but saw nothing, just a murky film shrouding his field of vision. He blinked to clear the coating and discovered his efforts were ineffective, useless. Blinded, he began to panic, tried to breathe but felt his mouth fill with coagulated matter. He immediately sought to move his arms, but his movement was met with resistance, with density. His limbs pushed against a thick substance. Thicker than water, the fluid he was suspended in was viscous but parted with little exertion on his behalf. As soon as he realized he could easily move against it, that his strength was sufficient to do so, he brought his hands to his chest where he remembered bloodied chasms to be. There were none. His body was intact.

  Rage immediately washed over Eugene, drowned him. Instantaneous images flashed in his mind’s eye. Vivid memories began rushing back. Gabriel’s face appeared over and over, flooding him with anger so pure, so unadulterated, he struggled to name it, doubted he had ever experienced it before. Tremors racked his body uncontrollably. He made no effort to resist them, or restrain them.

  Gabriel James, his maker’s beloved creation, had shot him in Melissa Martin’s home. He remembered feeling the bullets blast against his skin, exploding into his flesh. He fought and clung to life, determined to complete the coveted task of murdering Gabriel. He had not accomplished that which Terzini had expected of him. He had failed.

  Eugene felt his blood race through his veins fueled by vitriol and thunder in his ears. Failure was foreign to him, unheard of. Sightless and breathless, he thrashed and flailed, felt metal walls all around him. Balling his massive fists, he found a hard, slightly rounded surface and began pounding. He struck and hammered until he felt it buckle beneath his might. The harder he hit the more incensed he became. He kicked and punched until he felt the walls around him yield.

  As the structure of his containment surrendered, a light unexpectedly appeared. A crescent shaped sliver appeared at first, then the brightness grew quickly and the gelatinous substance began to drain.

  He gasped for breath, ravenously inhaling oxygen as a bespectacled face appeared before his.

  Helmeted with thick, black hair, the face was haggard but recognizable: Dr. Franklin Terzini.

  “Hello Eugene,” his maker said.

  “Where am I?” Eugene demanded.

  “You’re safe. Don’t worry.”

  “Where am I?” Eugene growled.

  “You’re in California, the land of eternal sunshine. And it would behoove you to calm down. You do not want to destroy the very equipment that has kept you alive the last five months, do you?”

  Eugene fought to calm himself, to harness the tempestuous ire he felt bubbling within him. He looked around and recognized his surroundings. He was situated in a large, steel tubular container identical to the one that facilitated his initial development. The thick, milky fluid that had just drained was an augmented version of amniotic fluid Dr. Terzini had created.

  “Kept me alive? I wasn’t dead?” Eugene heard himself ask incredulously.

  “No, Eugene. You almost died,” Terzini began. “And to think, Gabriel, along with the help of a few lowly human beings, nearly killed you. It’s hard to believe, I know,” Terzini goaded.

  His maker shook his head from side to side in exaggerated dissatisfaction before adding, “So disappointing. I expected so much more from you, Eugene.”

  Eugene felt the venom seethe within him and threaten to brim. He exercised the modicum of restraint he possessed and reined in the compelling urge to resume pounding his enormous fists against the cylinder, pummel it until it collapsed, surrendered to his will. His breathing became short and shallow again. He strove to regulate it, to conceal from Terzini the burning hate he experienced unceasingly.

  “Relax, Eugene, I’ll have you out of there in a few moments; just be patient. I know it’s tight in there,” Terzini coached.

  It was evident his maker mistook his anger for physical discomfort with confinement. Eugene relaxed marginally.

  “Fortunately, I was able to save you before you were hauled off to some inferior hospital only to be treated by an incompetent, sleep-deprived intern.”

  “How did you do it?” Eugene asked.

  Terzini was deep in thought, thinking out loud.

  “I suppose I could have let you go. I am certain you would have died. But then I would have been forced to start over–the creation process, the training, the education–it would have taken so much time. This way was not nearly as neat, but easier nevertheless.”

  “I’ve been in here for five months?” Eugene questioned.

  “Yes, Eugene. You spent five months submerged in the highest quality amniotic fluid I have ever fashioned. I had to tailor it to your specific needs. You required greater amounts of growth hormone for healing those nasty wounds Gabriel and his little friends caused,” Terzini pushed.

  “I will deal with them,” Eugene promised.

  “Yes, yes, Eugene. I’ve heard that from you before. Of course, if you had dealt with them as I asked you to, this never would have happened. We wouldn’t be having this discussion,” Terzini reminded him.

  Eugene felt his rage mingle with a new emotion: shame. It wasn’t enough that Gabriel had been the one chosen to transform humanity, now he had succeeded in disgracing him as well. He inhaled deeply to push back his rising bile, instantly shaking off the fleeting feelings of indignity and replacing it with rancor.

  “Yes, Dr. Terzini, you’re right. If I had killed Gabriel and Melissa as planned, this would not have happened,” Eugene agreed and gestured to his surroundings.

  “Well, as long as we understand each other,” Terzini said levelly. “Let’s get you out of there.”

  Eugene watched as Dr. Terzini began turning a large, steel wheel affixed to the cistern. Little by little, the reservoir opened lengthwise. When it had parted sufficiently, Eugene swung his legs out and placed his feet on the concrete floor below. He leaned forward to stand and was shocked to discover that his lower half was capable of bearing the totality of his weight. His knees did not collapse, his ankles did not crumple. His legs felt strong and sturdy.

  “You seem fine, Eugene. How do you feel?” Terzini asked.

  “I am myself.”

  “Do you feel any weakness at all, or dizziness?”

  “No. I feel strong, stronger than ever,” Eugene replied as he stretched and flexed his formidable arms.

  “Excellent, I have a plan that will allow you to redeem yourself, Eugene; a plan that would give you the opportunity to dispose of Gabriel once and for all.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I have reproduced Kevin Anderson, Chris Mace and John DeNardi, the three boys you murdered in the woods in Harbingers Falls.”

  Eugene was careful to keep his facial expression neutral despite the outrage and incredulity he experienced. He could not fathom a suitable explanation for time spent, resources, and above all, the remarkable talent of his maker, expended to recreate three contemptible teenage humans. He tensed every muscle in his face in an effort to abstain from twisting it into a mask of rage.

  Through taught lips he asked, “Why would you do that?”

  “Are you questioning me Eugene?”

  He felt as though he would explode. Though it went against the indoctrination of his maker, instilled at his inception, Eugene bristled at the condescension in Terzini’s voice, the arrogant and accusatory tone. But he knew he needed to guard his resentment and judiciously choose his words as well as his own tone of voice. He could not risk inflaming his maker; he could not risk termination.

  “No, I’m merely wondering the reason for resurrecting three useless humans.”

  “There is a reason for everything I do, as you very well know. Gabriel has threatened to expose me if any harm comes to his pathetic little girlfriend. To ensure her safety he has left her and moved to some unknown location. I have recreated the three teenagers and sent them back to
Harbingers Falls. Their return will get Gabriel’s attention, wherever he’s hiding and draw him back. After all, he believes that they are dead, and will suspect that I have a hand in it. When he returns to protect her, you will be there and kill them both. Afterward, you will also need to dispose of the three clones; we cannot leave any loose ends.”

  “I won’t disappoint you again.” Eugene stated. The explanation had pleased him by offering opportunity to do what he did best, to kill. Excitement replaced offense. He found himself barely able to contain his eagerness at the prospect of murdering Gabriel and Melissa, as well as the three re-creations.

  “You will need to be careful; I have augmented their physical prowess and implemented a new method I’ve been working on. They were infused intravenously during their development in the tank with various hormone combinations to heighten their fast-twitch responses and muscle tissue production. The serum acts as a cleaner, more sophisticated anabolic steroid.”

  “So they will be stronger and faster than normal humans?” Eugene asked carefully concealing that the added challenge excited him further

  “Yes, Eugene, they will, I thought it was important that if they had the opportunity to dispose of Gabriel themselves they would not find themselves at a disadvantage and fail. There appears to be a problem though, the boys seemed far more motivated than I expected. I am extremely concerned about their mental stability. Identically cloning ordinary humans without improving their mental capacity is not something I have ever had reason to experiment with. Until now it would have been a waste of time, my objective as you know has always been to improve mankind, not recreate its flawed beings. I’m concerned that their newfound strength and agility, combined with their fragile mental state could prove problematic. The sooner you return to Harbingers Falls to monitor the situation, the better.”

  “So the plan is for me to babysit three teenage boys, and wait for Gabriel?”

  “You can think of it any way you like, though given your recent performance, babysitting would not be an unsuitable assignment for you.”

  Eugene stared angrily at Terzini; the insults were becoming increasingly difficult to endure and threatened to edge out his growing anticipation of sanctioned murder. Terzini seemed determined to test his innate inability to lash out at his maker verbally or physically. His makers words incensed him despite the truth they maintained, Eugene had failed him.

  “I will complete my task this time, Dr. Terzini. You have my word,” Eugene promised.

  “You had better, Eugene. I will not tolerate failure a second time,” Terzini concluded and began walking toward a reinforced door that led outside. The clacking of his heeled dress shoes stopped abruptly as he paused and looked over his shoulder to add, “There is a Hummer in the garage. I would leave for Harbingers Falls as soon as possible if I were you.”

  His comment was not a suggestion, it was an order. Eugene immediately moved to an empty computer workstation and began searching for the most direct route from California to Harbingers Falls.