Chapter Twenty-Three （Questions）

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (QUESTIONS)

STEIN

Ever since Hazel arrived at Verfallen, there was an uncomfortable levity in my chest. I felt light, almost happy. It was troubling.

Quickly, the orderly scuffled in front of me, shooting panicked looks over his shoulder at me. The heat was oppressive, considering the air conditioning had been broken for ages now. Everything was breaking. As we moved down the hall, deeper into Verfallen, I could hear the rattle of old copper pipes in the walls, groaning in a threat down every corridor.

At least the heat wasn't as bad down here, on the basement level. I preferred the cold. As a little experiment, I once slept in one of the morgue's refrigerated drawers meant for corpses. I'd liked it so much it's where I slept every night since. Sometimes, it was entertaining to imagine being dead—an added bonus to the mid-30 temperatures and metal mattress that lulled me to sleep.

I hoped one day someone would lock it from the outside, and I could be trapped for a hundred years of claustrophobic torture. Just until I lost my sanity completely. Then at least we'd all be in good company.

"Don't you want to know who's here?" The orderly asked.

"No." I knew who was here—a Supra official. They came rarely over the years. I'd anticipated this, dreaded it, I supposed. Feelings had been trickling into my head recently—dread, delight, happiness… desire.

I'd wanted Hazel Fury here simply to find a cure for immortality, but she'd offered something I'd never expected. She was the reason feelings were trickling into my head. The reason the orderlies and nurses fidgeted when they looked at me. The staff could sense change, and they didn't like it.

Supra wasn't pleased with me. I got the acute impression that they wished themselves rid of me. Even if it meant an end to their new drugs. I wished to be rid of them as well, of course. This tainted relationship had dragged on long enough. My patience was running thin.

I kept walking, my steps echoing in the basement hall.

The nurses and orderlies acted so very helpful all the time. As if I didn't know they were reporting back to Supra about every breath I took. After all these centuries, they were at least smart enough to still be scared.

I smiled at the back of the orderly's head. He had a large skull. He'd managed to stay alive this year when most others hadn't. I'd turned Bree into a monster, and a lot of people had died. I'd hoped they would.

"Back in your office…" The orderly started.

"Yes?"

"Can you…" he trailed off. If Bree ever killed him, I'd do to him what I'd done to all the others.

"They told us you don't have sex," he rushed to say.

"Did they?" I asked back apathetically. The dead don't put up much of a fight when you hurt them. If you soaked a section of skull with formaldehyde and hydrogen peroxide, it softened enough for a scalpel to cut it.

"They said to report if something changes with Patient Zero. Anything at all. Has something changed?" He asked. The confidence had leaked back into his voice as he remembered our positions. I might get to do what I wanted to the inmates of Verfallen, but I was still a patient. The first patient—Patient Zero.

"Nothing has changed," I lied. Even though the dead couldn't feel it, there was nothing harmless about pressing my fingers inside their heads. They never came back entirely right, did they? That wasn't because of death. It was because of me .

We made it to the forgotten hall, and the orderly pushed the door open before locking it behind us again. You'd think I'd know their names by now, but that would require me to care. I always called the head nurse Rachel because the first one had been that. Who knew what the current one's name really was, and who cared?

They weren't my coworkers. They weren't my friends. They were my captors.

They were liars fooling all the inmates of Verfallen. They followed close on my heels acting like assistants when really they were breathing down my neck, watching my every move. Every night they got together to make their reports, noting every flinch of my face.

They were employed by the very group who chained me, spying every hour of every day for what I had to assume was a very healthy paycheck.

The orderly silently led me to a room with a stainless steel table and two chairs. One chair had a woman in it. I'd never seen her before. She had red hair and dark skin. Everyone in Supra was a witch. Some of their kind had a lot of power, but none of them lived forever. It had been a generation or two since the last official came to see me. He must be dead. Meanwhile, I hadn't aged a day.

I sat in the empty chair opposite her. She was stiff as she looked at me. I could sense her fear, even if she was masking it. It was in the hairs on her arms and the way her body tensed subtly. But also, it was in her mind and I could feel that too. There was a drawn-out moment as she looked me over, trying to find signs that the man in front of her was a monster.

There were some details for her to pick up on. This body was a perfect recreation of a human. I hadn't realized it needed to be imperfect to pass the test. The glasses helped distract people from my face, but not much.

She shuddered, unable to stop her body's reaction. The orderly closed the door as he left us alone. I looked at the two-way glass in front of me. Did they think that hid them from my perception?

"We've received several concerning reports about you."

"I think everyone is a little sensitive, considering the state of things inside here," I responded, settling my eyes back on her. She pressed her shoulders back, reminding herself she was in charge.

"There's reports of you showing special interest in patients. Taking them to your private room without any nurses nearby… you're saying this was made up because people are sensitive ?" She asked, rubbing her index finger and thumb together in a nervous habit.

"Maybe."

"What about the reports of uncontrollable laughter?" She asked.

"As I said, the state of things here has recently grown tense. I have to acclimate, act out of character to get the patients to do what I want." I hated explaining myself to them. It was demeaning. But even if I could feel myself breaking free from the mental cage they'd locked me in, it was a slow process. I still had to bide my time. Another century of secretly feeding. Another century of Hazel writhing on my examination table. Then the gag they put in my head would break.

"There's been an increase in deaths," she said, moving to a new topic.

"Yes."

"Your skill at reviving people… is that why they started to call you Dr. Frankenstein in here?"

"They shortened it to Stein lately."

"Hmm. We're glad you continue to use that skill."

"You are?" I asked.

"Yes. Both the staff and inmates can be hard to replace. It's a shame they don't come back completely, or we could use that skill on others. Unfortunately, no one at Supra wants to be revived half-dead." She left her demand unsaid— find a way to do it better .

But I knew how to do it better. The problem was I kept gorging on their frontal lobes before bringing them back to life. That often had the result of people not being entirely all there. It was hard to show enthusiasm when a few ounces of brain matter was missing.

She sighed, relaxing in her chair. She looked disappointed as if she'd wanted me to be more frightening than I was.

"Is Hazel Fury a problem?" She asked. I felt a muscle under my eye twitch. She stared at it.

"No."

"Are you attracted to her?" She asked.

"I'm not a sexual being. You should reread my file."

"You've been living as a man for centuries now." She looked at the table in the general direction of my lap. "It works, doesn't it?"

"Does the staff ever report me eating ?"

"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "You can though, can't you? Eat, that is." I remained silent. "You must have tried, right? A curious creature like you. And if you tried eating… then maybe you wanted to try something else. Like sex."

I did eat. I'd always eaten. Supra liked to delude themselves into thinking they knew everything about me. It gave them a sense of false security. Which is why no one suspected the horrifying truth. That I pressed my mouth to small cuts in their heads, and I ate them .

I'd eaten well since Bree started killing nightly. I knew she would. That's why I'd made her what she was. She killed, I revived, and no one was any wiser to what I was hiding.

"Should we test it?" She asked.

"Whether I can put food in my mouth and swallow?" I asked.

"Whether you can fuck," she responded. I sighed in annoyance.

"Is that why you're here today? To attempt to fuck me?"

"I'm here to assess your state, Zero. Tell me what you are," she demanded. My vision grew unfocused. When I blinked, she'd moved slightly. I'd lost a moment of time. I hated when people asked me about myself. It made the witch gag confuse me.

"At least that's still working well. We don't like change, do we, Zero?" There was a long stretch of silence.

"Oh? Was that not rhetorical?"

"How are you feeling?" She asked in annoyance.

"I'm not."

"How does Hazel make you feel?"

"She doesn't," I said.

"So if I killed her…" She trailed off. I took a moment to remember the sound of her predecessors screaming as they clawed their eyes out. Before the witch gag was put in my head. Maybe she'd make that wonderful sound soon, too.

"It would be an inconvenience. She's important for my study of immortality. Wouldn't you like that? Immortality?"

She couldn't hide the look of greed in her eyes. It gleamed.

"You can do that?"

"Of course."

"And the mating serum you promised?"

"I finished that," I responded.

"Good. You have a procedure after this. It's been a long time since your last."

"Right," I said. I'd expected this. They always did it. Which is why I told Gonzo to find me. Funny he didn't think I lied about purposely making him my mate. Of course I did it on purpose.

"You aren't so scary anymore, are you?" She asked. I looked at her. The light flickered above the table, blinking off and on. She stared at it. The pipes rattled in the walls. Something clanked, copper banging against itself. The temperature suddenly increased—hot air filling the room.

She sucked in a breath when rats began squeaking in the walls. Then she jerked and slapped at her leg as if something had touched it. Nothing was there.

She swallowed, got up, and walked towards the door.

"Goodbye, Cecilia."

She stopped for a moment. She'd never told me her name. A moment later, her heels moved faster as she got away.

The orderly came in and collected me.

Weirdly, the room was entirely normal for him. That was because Cecilia had imagined it all. Or should I say, I made her experience it. I was starting to get my power back.

They took me out of the forgotten hall and into a surgery room. A nurse wheeled in a stainless steel tray as I laid down on the bed.

"I didn't tell them what I saw," the orderly whispered before he stepped away to make room for the nurse. I eyed him, and then my attention caught on the glare of stainless steel instruments. The nurse lifted the pike. Her other arm pulled up the hammer. The metal kissed the side of my eye.

The noise of her snapping the hammer onto the pike filled the room. I felt all the tension leave my body, my muscles loosening. There was pressure behind my eyes each time the hammer hit my head. I was floating and lost my sense of time. I'd been here before—many times. I was starting to grow fond of lobotomies. They were relaxing, weren't they? Too bad they didn't have any lasting effect. What a shame.

"How do you feel, Zero?" The nurse asked. I stared at the ceiling blankly. She patted my arm and then set the instruments on the table beside me. Then they left me alone. I could feel something leaking from my right eye. I breathed in and out, and I waited until I had the power to move again.

Footsteps were in the corridor, swift and light. Only Gonzo could walk that softly since he was both predator and prey. I blinked at the ceiling and moved a finger.

I wanted him to see me like this. I wanted someone to be mad on my behalf. I wanted an ally. He was the only one who seemed good enough in the centuries I'd lived here.

I'd tried to make something powerful enough to help me—Nemo—but making an Alpha more Alpha didn't work in my favor. Plus, Nemo genuinely hated me. Maybe because of the forced medication, frequent drug trials, and seclusion. However, I figured it was really standard Daddy issues. At least I had the common sense to stop adopting children after him and Baz.

Gonzo's footsteps stopped outside the open door.

"Zero?" His feet shuffled closer and I finally looked away from the ceiling. His eyebrows were pinched.

"There's black oozing from your eye."

I swallowed, trying to wet my dry throat. I still couldn't talk. I'd never told anyone what was really going on here. I was going to tell him. Gonzo's teeth sharpened.

"Orson fucked you up, didnt he?" He asked. I looked at him, licked my lips, and swallowed. I opened my mouth, closed it again. Gonzo's eyes bugged, and a look of panic came over him.

"What did he do?" He asked softly, reaching for me. He ripped his hands back at the last moment. Anger built under his skin—passionate and wild.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," he seethed, eyes glowing gold with rage. He turned and left. I opened my mouth.

"Not Orson," I rasped too late. The downfall of making a trickster your mate… they're not a team player, and they don't follow rules. I sighed. Hopefully, he didn't kill Orson and start a war.