4. Alec

4

ALEC

The scent of damp soil was welcome and familiar. I pulled the door to my greenhouse closed, shutting out the heavy soulless clouds that threatened to downpour. A rainy day was to be expected, and I looked forward to hearing the pitter-patter against the walls.

Condensation dripped down the glass. I locked the latch, ensuring that even if someone tried, they would not be able to come in.

Orientation week was my least favourite of the entire Martinmas semester. All of the students were aimless and antsy, tainting the atmosphere of my work environment. They wandered the grounds wide-eyed and lost, sometimes stumbling into the maze close by. In frustratingly random moments, I’d hear cries and would have to begrudgingly lead them back to the land of the living, the very opposite of mythological Charon.

Sometimes I’d let them wander out there for a while because their misery was amusing.

My conservatory, fondly known as Venom Hall by myself and a few students, was far more confusing and dangerous than the maze so many lost themselves to. Keeping them out was the kindest thing I could do, and it allowed me to work better anyhow.

All of the questioning that had taken place the last few days left me frustrated. Only the Dean and myself knew the full truth. There was a monster the night the three professors were murdered. It appeared that after the two died, their chests were ripped open and organs emptied—or eaten. A thick liquid coated their skin and smelled like sulphur. I’d taken several samples after examining the bodies.

I doubted they would find the third missing professor. Whatever foul beast tore into the fellows was hellish and hungry.

Part of me envied his bloodthirsty power.

I followed a narrow dirt path that led past a crumbling fountain of an angel pouring water, before curving to a back corner that made up my office. A solid oak desk was buried between pots of plants, scattered papers, a velvet chaise that I used to sleep on occasionally, and other utensils. I tossed my leather satchel down and went to a small vessel that sat on my desk beneath a light. I leaned in, squinting to see if there had been any growth yet.

Aconitum napellus. More commonly known as wolfsbane or monkshood. I’d managed to get seeds, although so far they hadn’t been very promising in their growth. With some tender love and care though, the poisonous purple perennial would be on its way to becoming a member of my prized collection. It would be a potent nerve or heart poison, and potentially a lead on the ultimate toxin needed for my goal.

All of my goodness went to plants. I spared them my taste for blood, for pain, for destruction.

A wave of excitement washed over me as I moved onto the next pot mostly filled with water. There was a small vine reaching towards the surface. Cicuta , or water hemlock.

“Wonderful,” I crooned. “You’re doing so well. Keep growing, little one.”

I took a seat and yanked open my bottom drawer. Reaching for the series of tools inside, I set out all I needed, including a stone mortar and pestle. I sprinkled yellow petals into the bowl, adding a droplet of toxic sap and water before grinding it together into a paste. After adding more water, I filled a glass vial with the mixture. I then pulled out a fresh syringe and filled it with the thick yellow liquid.

The sap had been fermenting with a mixture of other poisonous liquids for exactly fourteen days now. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but that was the point of the research. Methodical trial and error. I picked up a leather-bound journal and pen and then carried my items down the conservatory path.

This section was only open to myself and the Dean. Paranoia gripped me and I turned, stilling so that I could listen for any movement, any sign that I wasn’t alone.

But I was the only one here.

I breathed out and continued, slipping past two overgrown bushes with leaves the size of my head. A rust-coloured rug spread out on the floor, giving a heavy thump as I picked up the edge and folded it back, revealing a metal door. It screeched as I unlatched it and heaved it open, glowering into the darkness below. A musty scent filled my nostrils and I wrinkled my nose.

This world was not as simple as many of my colleagues believed. Men were not the apex predator, as they told themselves.

Monsters were.

Monsters who killed, haunted, and harmed. Fiends of all sorts, beasts hidden within plain sight. Even a fellow professor last year had turned out to be one, a vampire that I’d ended up using in an experiment to find the ultimate poison.

One that could end any monster, no matter how ancient or fierce.

Faen. That was the name of this poison, even if it didn’t exist yet. I would perfect it, then use it to destroy the demons that plagued our world. Such as the one that had slaughtered three of my colleagues last night.

I descended down the dark steps, going underground. The entire university was built on a series of tunnels that stretched for miles and the conservatory was expertly placed over several with room for my experiments.

I went to another iron door and unlatched it, pushing it open. A soft groan echoed from within.

“ You bastard. ”

The demon's words were hardly audible now, a broken whisper from where he lay chained to a table. Perhaps he used to be a student or professor, but I’d long since detached any details about him.

To me, he was an experiment.

It was a specimen.

He yanked against the chains violently, his eyes widening. He foamed at the mouth as he attempted to break them. The rattling no longer startled me. If anything, it amused me. I had reduced a demon to nothing more than a bug on a platter to be dissected by me. In this room, I was a god.

I placed my leather journal on a small tray, and lifted the syringe. He continued to fight the chains, but he would not break free. I had tested these countless times, and unless the demon was somehow stronger than the many others I had encountered, there would be no freedom for the beast.

“Let me go,” he wheezed. “This is wrong. What you're doing is evil. ”

Evil . I snorted. How could a demon speak to me of evil?

“What I'm doing is going to save humanity,” I responded.

“ You’re evil,” he repeated. “You’re the monster, not me. You’re evil. ”

I ignored him now, even as he repeated himself over and over again. I felt nothing as I injected the needle into a vein and delivered the thick yellow poison. For a few moments, nothing happened. In my mind, I started the count, knowing that it wouldn’t be long.

Poisons could work very fast when I wanted them to.

One, two, three…

The demon’s eyes widened, completely black and full of hatred for me and perhaps even the world. Sharp teeth glistened, their jagged edges still stained with the blood of those they had ripped into.

Did he regret it? It wasn’t my job to ask about its morals or ethics.

Four, five, six…

A scream tore from his throat, a howl of pain that was head splitting. I took a step back with a wince and reached into my pocket, drawing out a set of earplugs. I covered my ears and returned to observing, the reprieve welcome. The scream grew louder until I could feel it in my bones. Blood gurgled in its throat, leaking from its mouth and pooling on either side of his head. The scent of sulphur filled the air as its body thrashed, the metal scraping violently.

The smell was new. Despite its constant wretched wailing, I reached for my journal and pen. I filled the pages with my observations as the demon twisted and convulsed. Howling pierced my ears, foam dripping from its needle-point teeth.

This wouldn’t be the first time I’d witnessed death.

Ink scrawled over paper as I continued my observations. I took a step closer, watching as veins bulged and skin turned dark purple. Foam and blood continued to mix until it went still.

“Also new,” I murmured.

Did it work?

It was too soon to tell. The stillness was too fresh, and I didn’t trust monsters. They were smarter than most men. They stalked, hunted, and killed with the natural skill of a predator. A few minutes passed before I stepped closer. I tucked my pen between the pages and reached down to press my fingers against its neck.

The creature moved in a frenzied blur, turning its head and snapping at my wrist. Fangs sank into my flesh and I grunted, rage turning my vision red.

I tore my arm away and grabbed my fountain pen, stabbing the pointed tip into its eyes. The screaming started again but I didn’t stop. The pain that coursed through me fueled the dark, violent craving to destroy.

Squelch, squelch, squelch.

I didn’t stop stabbing until the beast truly went still.

Sweat dripped down my forehead, lungs panting heavily. I took a step back and realised that its blood had ruined my clothes. A demon bite wouldn’t turn me, but I still felt my ears burn at my foolish decision to believe what I perceived.

My heart thundered as I snatched up my journal and continued making notes. Blood stained the pages, but I didn’t care.

I needed another subject now.

With a frustrated sigh, I turned to the door and stepped out, locking it behind me. The Dean would be pleased at the progress, at least. The poison did weaken the demon.

They weren’t invulnerable.

I needed to wash the blood off my hands and tend to the demon bite. I went back up the dark steps and emerged back into the conservatory, shut the door, replaced the rug, and rushed back down the path to my space. Tossing my journal onto the desk with a sigh, I continued to the garden sink, turning on the water.

Red spun down the drain, mixing with the soil. I ran the water over my wound, but the bite was deep and the blood wasn’t stopping.

“Foul bastard,” I growled.

I shut off the water and went back to my desk quickly, yanking open a drawer with my first aid kit. I opened the tin box and started to pull out supplies, but then paused, my gaze sliding back over to my arm.

The wound was closing by itself.

I was torn between more anger and curiosity. A demon’s bite healing at its own accord? I cursed under my breath and leaned in, watching as my skin began to spread to cover the puncture wounds, closing slowly until it became nothing but a scar, pink and fresh.

I didn’t feel relieved. The demon was dead and now I couldn’t ask him about the bite.

My eyes shut and I leaned back in my chair, drawing in a breath to try and keep myself from falling apart. The stress that I’d felt since… Don’t go there. Don’t think about it.

It was impossible not to see her face every time I failed. The monsters that lived in our world were far more horrifying than the fairytales. When I closed my eyes, I saw the woman that had raised me. Torn apart, her body shredded by claws and face smashed to an almost unrecognisable pulp.

The worst part had been her eyes.

My stomach turned and I jumped up, rushing back to the sink. My breakfast came up, my body trembling as I retched.

I wiped the sweat on my forehead away, breathing in deep as the memories assaulted me. I let them fully resurface and run all the way through because there was no use in trying to stop them.

My interest in poison was instilled in me when I was a small child. My mother, while alive, was an apothecary. We’d kept a garden, and a good portion of my knowledge came from her.

The same plants that could heal us could often kill us as well. The hand that soothed could be the same hand that slaughtered.

I sank to the ground, leaning against the basin. I needed to clean myself up and head to the Dean with results, and we needed another test subject. Surely within the fresh batch of students, there was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“ Hello ?”

My heart jumped and my eyes widened.

“Is there anyone here?”

The soft voice floated from the front of the greenhouse.

“What the fuck?” I rasped, looking down at myself. I was covered in blood.

Fuck. Fuck.

Didn’t I latch the door? How could someone get in?

I jumped up and raked my fingers through my hair, looking around for something . I ripped off my sweater and tossed it to the ground, rushing to my desk and rummaging through until I found a black button down shirt. I put it on quickly and grabbed an apron off a rack, fitting it around myself as well.

Whomever this was—I was going to make sure they never fucking came here again.

I took a moment to centre myself and then took off down the path, my fingers curling into fists.

Take care of the trespasser, deliver the results to the Dean, and find another specimen to poison. Organising my tasks into a list helped calm me as I rounded the corner .

A woman stood there. I recognized her as the woman I’d seen at the pub earlier this week. Despite the rage I felt over her breaking into my space, I took a moment to soak in her appearance.

Deep chestnut brown hair tumbled down her back. She wore a long plaid skirt and a navy blouse, the bottom of her heels caked in mud. Looking at her felt like looking at a shadow. Not in an ominous way, but in the same way it felt to look at the cool shadows of a mountain before sunrise, soft and delicate.

But the pain in those dark eyes was far from soft or delicate.

I could spot it from across a room.

From across a pub.

I needed her to get the fuck out of my greenhouse.

“ Who are you and what are you doing? ”