"Deception" - an Original Story, Pt.1
Hello people!
Here's the first part of my story, guys! :D Hope you like it!
====
The jolting stop of the bus bounced the man into the plastic partition to his right, irritably shaking him back to consciousness. He grabbed the package at his feet, stood up rigidly, and filed into the line exiting the bus. As he stepped off the last step, the wind whipped through the gap in his jacket at his neck and caused his body to pinch into itself and shake slightly. His wrinkled hand shot up to the neck of his jacket and squeezed it together in his fist. The building that loomed before him seemed particularly colorless today in the gray morning light. He stopped noticing the old building that had become a fixture in his daily life years ago, when the novelty of his new life turned into the reality of his entire life.
Today, however, he paused at the front entrance, struck by an oddly dressed man who seemed particularly out of place in these familiar surroundings. He wore an all white suit with a red rose on the lapel and a red silk kerchief in his left breast pocket, a black hat, and sunglasses. The man was seated at a table just inside the entrance, and upon seeing the man with the package enter the building, the oddly dressed stranger rose from his seat and walked with a deliberate step toward him.
“It is no wonder why extraordinary men never fully realize their potential in a place such as this.” His raspy voice spilled the words out quickly and calmly, while he extended his hand toward the man with the package. His hand was clenched in a fist with the palm face up. “You may find that this will help you see what I mean.” He extended his fingers revealing a small vile of green liquid in his hand. “This is the answer you have been looking for.”
Oscar Valdes smiled down at the green vile, swallowing his excitement. He glanced back up at the strange man, who extended his other hand and said, “The name’s Nate. Nate Neurotic.” Oscar shook Nate’s hand, “I’m Oscar.”
“I know. Jasper sent me.” Oscar nodded. He noticed security seemed to be getting suspicious and turned back to Nate.
“Come to my office. We can’t do this here.” he whispered. Nate nodded and followed Oscar to the bay of elevators, where there stood ten or fifteen other senators. The crowd packed into two of the large elevators and rode up to the various floors. Oscar and Nate vacated the elevator on the fourth floor and strolled down an expansive, echoing hallway of marble floors and stark white walls. Finally, they came to a huge, wooden door with a plaque next to it that read, “OSCAR VALDES, VIRGINIA.”
Oscar’s secretary, Lynn, was there already and jolted up from her seat to pour coffee for the senator as soon as the door began to open.
“Your briefing is on your desk, sir.” the girl said, handing Oscar his coffee. He thanked her and headed straight for his office, which also resided behind a huge wooden door. Lynn eyed Nate as he walked by, but quickly sat back down and continued her work.
“Nice place.” Nate commented, gesturing towards the full bookcase against the far wall and the impressive view through the window. Oscar nodded and sat, motioning for Nate to do the same. He did.
“So, this liquid,” Oscar started. Nate interrupted him.
“NAP: Neurological Activity Producer.”
“Right. It’ll increase my brain activity?”
“Clinically proven. Fully realize your potential.” Nate said, referring to the tagline of the elixir. Oscar nodded, considering this.
“Okay. One million dollars, right?” he asked, pushing forward the package he’d brought with him. Nate smiled. He picked up the package and tore a hole in the wrapping to examine its contents. Satisfied, he placed the vile on Oscar’s desk. He rose and went to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.
“It was a pleasure,” he said, tilting his head slightly towards Oscar. And with that, Nate was gone. Oscar stared at the vile, a smirk spreading across his face.
“The pleasure was all mine.”
====
Technically, Nate hadn’t lied to him.
As Mr. Neurotic strolled out to the sidewalk, wind whipping at his body, trying to steal his hat, Nate assured himself that he hadn’t lied to Oscar Valdes. The elixir technically did increase brain activity. Technically, it did exactly as Nate had said. He just left out one, tiny detail; the elixir is actually a virus that kills after the incubation period of twenty-four hours.
He didn’t feel guilty, that wasn’t the right word for it. He had one million reasons not to feel guilty, which felt like they were actually burning in his pocket. No, guilt wasn’t it. So what was this feeling? This odd emotion that made him second-guess himself, made him feel the need to tell himself over and over again: I didn’t lie.
It doesn’t matter, he thought as he waited at the bus stop. He’d delivered the elixir just as Jasper had hired him to do. He’d gotten paid. His job was done. He boarded the bus and let the rubber-banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills press against his chest between his shirt and his coat, consoling him.
====
Oscar Valdes could not wait any longer.
He had wanted to hold off using NAP for two days, as there was a Senate meeting at that time and he desperately wanted to contribute new ideas. The problem was, he didn’t have any. To make matters worse, the simple possession of NAP put him on edge as it was a secret development and technically wasn’t legal yet. It hadn’t been approved by the FDA or anything. Hell, no one even knew about it except BioCorp. and himself.
He’d gotten word of Dr. James Jasper’s looking into creating some type of serum that could dramatically increase brain activity to the point of raising one’s IQ level. Oscar was incredibly intrigued, and, being an old friend of Jasper’s, wanted to test it out. He swore to include tax cuts and pay raises for BioCorp., Jasper’s company, in whatever bill he could get passed in the next meeting. He succeeded, and Jasper came through with this single vile of the NAP elixir.
Now that he had it, Oscar was getting too antsy for his own good, and his paranoia level was off the charts. He would jump and shake at the mere sound of someone else’s voice, the little click of a door opening and closing, the screech of a phone ringing. Anything and everything sent him into fits. There was no way getting around it. He had to end the paranoia. He had to see if what the man said was true. He grabbed the vile and put it to his lips. In one swift motion, he completely downed its contents.
The NAP serum held a disgustingly medicine-like flavor and Oscar fought the urge to spit it out. Struggling, he gulped down the elixir and shook his head, as if that would help rid his mouth of the terrible taste. He tossed the empty vile in a trash can next to his desk and leaned back, waiting for the serum to take effect. For what seemed like forever (but was really only half an hour or so), nothing happened.
At the forty-five minute mark, Oscar contemplated getting his money back. At the fifty-five minute mark, Oscar definitely intended to get his money back. At the sixty-minute mark, the only thing Oscar could think about was fiscal and monetary policy and the state of the economy. He furiously began writing down legislation, barely pausing to breathe as his hand whipped over sheets and sheets of paper. He wrote and wrote until he ran out of paper and began scratching legislation onto his desk.
====
Lynn found Oscar carving words into the walls of his office with his pen three hours later. His tie and jacket lay abandoned on the floor and his shirt was torn open at the top. He didn’t stop when Lynn opened the door, didn’t even look over at her.
“Mr. Valdes!” she shouted, shocked by the sight before her. But Oscar continued his frenzied carving, his eyes ablaze with determination.
“Mr. Valdes!” she tried again. Nothing. “OSCAR!”
Oscar stopped, holding his pen in a groove he’d cut himself. Sweat soaked his face and he was panting. Lynn scurried up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, only then realizing that he was shaking. She led him to the chair in front of his desk and sat him down, feeling his forehead for a fever.
“Mr. Valdes, what happened?” she asked, panic and fear painting her face. Oscar slowly raised his gaze to meet hers, but never spoke a word. After a minute of no reply, Lynn panicked and repeated the question. Oscar said nothing, just stared. Lynn gave up asking questions and called for security to help Oscar to the bus.
“Mr. Valdes, you need to go home. Go see your wife, okay? Take a day off, I can handle things here.” Lynn said softly, comfortingly. Oscar suddenly snapped out of his state of strangeness and turned to Lynn.
“My wife. I need to see my wife.” he said. He stood, grabbed his coat, and strode toward the door. Lynn called after him, but he didn’t seem to hear her. He yanked on his coat as he made his way down to the lobby and out the front door, all the while muttering that he needed to see his wife. A huge group stood on the steps, looking as if they were trying to find their way to some unknown destination. Oscar didn’t stop for them.
It was pouring outside, the gray skies from a few hours ago culminating into a watery painting of muddy grass and darkened streets. The rain came down in sheets and he drifted through the crowd in a daze. He was soaked by the time he reached the bus stop but couldn’t concentrate on anything but the picture of her. Finally, the bus came, splashing puddles of city dirt onto the sidewalk.
====
Oscar Valdes, Virginia senator, arrived home half an hour later. His wife, Rachel, was in the kitchen making lunch and happily humming a tune. He approached her slowly, a haze over his world that led him to continue movement sans thought. He touched her shoulder and she jumped in surprise.
“Oscar!” she said, dropping her knife onto the cutting board next to the chopped up carrots, “I almost sliced off my finger!” She giggled lightly until she noticed the strange look on Oscar’s face.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked. It only occurred to her then that he was home rather early. “Wait, it’s only noon. You’re home way too early. Not that I mind…”
A smile did not grace Oscar’s face, as was the norm when Rachel joked like this. She leaned back a little, trying to get a feel for Oscar’s odd behavior.
“Sweetheart, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. If you lost your job, we’ll find something else, you don’t have to panic…” she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. He stared into her eyes for a moment or two, then closed the gap between them. He kissed her sweetly at first. Then it turned more rough. Painfully so. Oscar began to pull on Rachel’s hair and grip her head too tight.
In one swift motion, Oscar smacked Rachel’s head against the counter-top. A gash appeared on Rachel’s head and blood spilled over the marble and down onto the floor, following Rachel’s body. Oscar knelt down and gripped her head with both hands. He slammed her head into the floor once, twice, three times until her brain began to show. He rose, wiped his hands on his pants, then turned to the soup on the stove-top. He dipped a spoon into the bubbling liquid and sipped it.
“Mmm. Delicious. Good job, honey.”
====
Sleep never came for Oscar that night.
Guilt wasn’t what prevented him from slipping into dreamland; his brain activity was off the scales. Thoughts ran through his mind so fast that he couldn’t process any of them. He began to shudder and shake and the simplest tasks became monumental for his body; he occasionally forgot to blink. He had to keep reminding himself to breathe.
At 7:50 the next morning, Oscar gasped for air as he clutched his head in the most extreme pain he’d ever felt. He rolled off his bed and onto the floor, curling up into a ball and squeezing his head in the hopes that it might suppress the pain. It didn’t. At 7:59, Oscar’s brain overheated dramatically, and he went into convulsions.
At 8:00 on the dot, Oscar Valdes’ brain exploded in his head. The remnants of his once-brain leaked slowly out of his ears as his body continued convulsing for a few minutes after his death.
====
“We’ve got another one.”
Kate Park, detective for the D.C.PD, jerked back slightly as a manila folder landed on the desk in front of her. She looked up at her partner, Rick Scofield, in awe.
“Seriously?” she asked, turning her attention back down to the folder. She flipped it open and was greeted with a picture of Harvey Thompson, Massachusetts senator, and a homicide report. She sighed. Harvey was one of the younger ones.
“Yeah, Harvey Thompson, 42, senator from Massachusetts. Same thing as the others; somehow, his brain overloaded and just,” Rick paused to make an exploding noise, then continued, “he was found on the floor of his kitchen.”
“And the wife?”
“Dead.”
“Just like the others,” Kate sighed again, running a hand over her face, “and you checked with the medical department and the coroner, right? They don’t have any ideas as to what might have caused this?”
“Nope. There doesn’t seem to be any cause or connection between the senators.”
“Okay, well, keep checking. I’m going for a walk.”
Rick nodded and headed for the medical department on the second floor. Kate rose from her chair and yanked on her coat. She decided not to bring along her umbrella; she didn’t care about her hair getting wet anymore. It had been raining for weeks and she began to wonder if it would ever stop.
She strolled outside, shoving her hands deep in her pockets. As she stepped in puddle after puddle, she tried to figure out what could possibly cause one’s brain to literally explode inside one’s head. It was a horrifying way to die, that was for sure. But the more Kate thought about it, the less it made sense. Was there anything in existence that could do something like that?
After forty minutes of walking in the rain, she made her way back to the police department, lacking any more ideas than when she’d left. Rick was waiting at her desk, flipping through a few files on other senators whose brains exploded.
“See anything?” Kate asked, tilting her head. Rick smiled at her, but replied with a quiet, discontent ‘no.’ He put the files back on her desk and turned back to her.
“I’m heading home, okay?” he said.
“Yeah, I’m gonna stay a while longer, see if I can make a connection.”
“Okay. Don’t stay too late.” Rick kissed Kate on the cheek, then walked outside. Kate sat back down at her desk. A small pile of fifteen files on all the dead senators lay before her, staring her down, gloating in their secret link. She pushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear and rubbed her eyes. It would be a long night.
====
Kate Park had been skimming through file after file, looking for a common bond, for hours. When a report was written up for a dead senator, every bit of legislation and company/interest group they lobbied for in the past six months was made into a list and tacked onto the file. It was to provide leads, but they all seemed to be dead ends.
That was, until Kate noticed that four senators lobbied for BioCorp., a leader in biogenetics and virology. They were constantly hitting up the government for more funding, and it looked like they were getting through to the senators. Kate examined the rest of the files, anxious about this new break, and sure enough: every senator found dead had lobbied for BioCorp. in the past six months.
Kate couldn’t help but smile to herself. I did it! I finally found the damn connection! she thought, tossing the files back onto her desk. …but what does it mean?
====
Love y'all - Mira/Doc/Kat *meow*
Here's the first part of my story, guys! :D Hope you like it!
====
The jolting stop of the bus bounced the man into the plastic partition to his right, irritably shaking him back to consciousness. He grabbed the package at his feet, stood up rigidly, and filed into the line exiting the bus. As he stepped off the last step, the wind whipped through the gap in his jacket at his neck and caused his body to pinch into itself and shake slightly. His wrinkled hand shot up to the neck of his jacket and squeezed it together in his fist. The building that loomed before him seemed particularly colorless today in the gray morning light. He stopped noticing the old building that had become a fixture in his daily life years ago, when the novelty of his new life turned into the reality of his entire life.
Today, however, he paused at the front entrance, struck by an oddly dressed man who seemed particularly out of place in these familiar surroundings. He wore an all white suit with a red rose on the lapel and a red silk kerchief in his left breast pocket, a black hat, and sunglasses. The man was seated at a table just inside the entrance, and upon seeing the man with the package enter the building, the oddly dressed stranger rose from his seat and walked with a deliberate step toward him.
“It is no wonder why extraordinary men never fully realize their potential in a place such as this.” His raspy voice spilled the words out quickly and calmly, while he extended his hand toward the man with the package. His hand was clenched in a fist with the palm face up. “You may find that this will help you see what I mean.” He extended his fingers revealing a small vile of green liquid in his hand. “This is the answer you have been looking for.”
Oscar Valdes smiled down at the green vile, swallowing his excitement. He glanced back up at the strange man, who extended his other hand and said, “The name’s Nate. Nate Neurotic.” Oscar shook Nate’s hand, “I’m Oscar.”
“I know. Jasper sent me.” Oscar nodded. He noticed security seemed to be getting suspicious and turned back to Nate.
“Come to my office. We can’t do this here.” he whispered. Nate nodded and followed Oscar to the bay of elevators, where there stood ten or fifteen other senators. The crowd packed into two of the large elevators and rode up to the various floors. Oscar and Nate vacated the elevator on the fourth floor and strolled down an expansive, echoing hallway of marble floors and stark white walls. Finally, they came to a huge, wooden door with a plaque next to it that read, “OSCAR VALDES, VIRGINIA.”
Oscar’s secretary, Lynn, was there already and jolted up from her seat to pour coffee for the senator as soon as the door began to open.
“Your briefing is on your desk, sir.” the girl said, handing Oscar his coffee. He thanked her and headed straight for his office, which also resided behind a huge wooden door. Lynn eyed Nate as he walked by, but quickly sat back down and continued her work.
“Nice place.” Nate commented, gesturing towards the full bookcase against the far wall and the impressive view through the window. Oscar nodded and sat, motioning for Nate to do the same. He did.
“So, this liquid,” Oscar started. Nate interrupted him.
“NAP: Neurological Activity Producer.”
“Right. It’ll increase my brain activity?”
“Clinically proven. Fully realize your potential.” Nate said, referring to the tagline of the elixir. Oscar nodded, considering this.
“Okay. One million dollars, right?” he asked, pushing forward the package he’d brought with him. Nate smiled. He picked up the package and tore a hole in the wrapping to examine its contents. Satisfied, he placed the vile on Oscar’s desk. He rose and went to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.
“It was a pleasure,” he said, tilting his head slightly towards Oscar. And with that, Nate was gone. Oscar stared at the vile, a smirk spreading across his face.
“The pleasure was all mine.”
====
Technically, Nate hadn’t lied to him.
As Mr. Neurotic strolled out to the sidewalk, wind whipping at his body, trying to steal his hat, Nate assured himself that he hadn’t lied to Oscar Valdes. The elixir technically did increase brain activity. Technically, it did exactly as Nate had said. He just left out one, tiny detail; the elixir is actually a virus that kills after the incubation period of twenty-four hours.
He didn’t feel guilty, that wasn’t the right word for it. He had one million reasons not to feel guilty, which felt like they were actually burning in his pocket. No, guilt wasn’t it. So what was this feeling? This odd emotion that made him second-guess himself, made him feel the need to tell himself over and over again: I didn’t lie.
It doesn’t matter, he thought as he waited at the bus stop. He’d delivered the elixir just as Jasper had hired him to do. He’d gotten paid. His job was done. He boarded the bus and let the rubber-banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills press against his chest between his shirt and his coat, consoling him.
====
Oscar Valdes could not wait any longer.
He had wanted to hold off using NAP for two days, as there was a Senate meeting at that time and he desperately wanted to contribute new ideas. The problem was, he didn’t have any. To make matters worse, the simple possession of NAP put him on edge as it was a secret development and technically wasn’t legal yet. It hadn’t been approved by the FDA or anything. Hell, no one even knew about it except BioCorp. and himself.
He’d gotten word of Dr. James Jasper’s looking into creating some type of serum that could dramatically increase brain activity to the point of raising one’s IQ level. Oscar was incredibly intrigued, and, being an old friend of Jasper’s, wanted to test it out. He swore to include tax cuts and pay raises for BioCorp., Jasper’s company, in whatever bill he could get passed in the next meeting. He succeeded, and Jasper came through with this single vile of the NAP elixir.
Now that he had it, Oscar was getting too antsy for his own good, and his paranoia level was off the charts. He would jump and shake at the mere sound of someone else’s voice, the little click of a door opening and closing, the screech of a phone ringing. Anything and everything sent him into fits. There was no way getting around it. He had to end the paranoia. He had to see if what the man said was true. He grabbed the vile and put it to his lips. In one swift motion, he completely downed its contents.
The NAP serum held a disgustingly medicine-like flavor and Oscar fought the urge to spit it out. Struggling, he gulped down the elixir and shook his head, as if that would help rid his mouth of the terrible taste. He tossed the empty vile in a trash can next to his desk and leaned back, waiting for the serum to take effect. For what seemed like forever (but was really only half an hour or so), nothing happened.
At the forty-five minute mark, Oscar contemplated getting his money back. At the fifty-five minute mark, Oscar definitely intended to get his money back. At the sixty-minute mark, the only thing Oscar could think about was fiscal and monetary policy and the state of the economy. He furiously began writing down legislation, barely pausing to breathe as his hand whipped over sheets and sheets of paper. He wrote and wrote until he ran out of paper and began scratching legislation onto his desk.
====
Lynn found Oscar carving words into the walls of his office with his pen three hours later. His tie and jacket lay abandoned on the floor and his shirt was torn open at the top. He didn’t stop when Lynn opened the door, didn’t even look over at her.
“Mr. Valdes!” she shouted, shocked by the sight before her. But Oscar continued his frenzied carving, his eyes ablaze with determination.
“Mr. Valdes!” she tried again. Nothing. “OSCAR!”
Oscar stopped, holding his pen in a groove he’d cut himself. Sweat soaked his face and he was panting. Lynn scurried up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, only then realizing that he was shaking. She led him to the chair in front of his desk and sat him down, feeling his forehead for a fever.
“Mr. Valdes, what happened?” she asked, panic and fear painting her face. Oscar slowly raised his gaze to meet hers, but never spoke a word. After a minute of no reply, Lynn panicked and repeated the question. Oscar said nothing, just stared. Lynn gave up asking questions and called for security to help Oscar to the bus.
“Mr. Valdes, you need to go home. Go see your wife, okay? Take a day off, I can handle things here.” Lynn said softly, comfortingly. Oscar suddenly snapped out of his state of strangeness and turned to Lynn.
“My wife. I need to see my wife.” he said. He stood, grabbed his coat, and strode toward the door. Lynn called after him, but he didn’t seem to hear her. He yanked on his coat as he made his way down to the lobby and out the front door, all the while muttering that he needed to see his wife. A huge group stood on the steps, looking as if they were trying to find their way to some unknown destination. Oscar didn’t stop for them.
It was pouring outside, the gray skies from a few hours ago culminating into a watery painting of muddy grass and darkened streets. The rain came down in sheets and he drifted through the crowd in a daze. He was soaked by the time he reached the bus stop but couldn’t concentrate on anything but the picture of her. Finally, the bus came, splashing puddles of city dirt onto the sidewalk.
====
Oscar Valdes, Virginia senator, arrived home half an hour later. His wife, Rachel, was in the kitchen making lunch and happily humming a tune. He approached her slowly, a haze over his world that led him to continue movement sans thought. He touched her shoulder and she jumped in surprise.
“Oscar!” she said, dropping her knife onto the cutting board next to the chopped up carrots, “I almost sliced off my finger!” She giggled lightly until she noticed the strange look on Oscar’s face.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked. It only occurred to her then that he was home rather early. “Wait, it’s only noon. You’re home way too early. Not that I mind…”
A smile did not grace Oscar’s face, as was the norm when Rachel joked like this. She leaned back a little, trying to get a feel for Oscar’s odd behavior.
“Sweetheart, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. If you lost your job, we’ll find something else, you don’t have to panic…” she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. He stared into her eyes for a moment or two, then closed the gap between them. He kissed her sweetly at first. Then it turned more rough. Painfully so. Oscar began to pull on Rachel’s hair and grip her head too tight.
In one swift motion, Oscar smacked Rachel’s head against the counter-top. A gash appeared on Rachel’s head and blood spilled over the marble and down onto the floor, following Rachel’s body. Oscar knelt down and gripped her head with both hands. He slammed her head into the floor once, twice, three times until her brain began to show. He rose, wiped his hands on his pants, then turned to the soup on the stove-top. He dipped a spoon into the bubbling liquid and sipped it.
“Mmm. Delicious. Good job, honey.”
====
Sleep never came for Oscar that night.
Guilt wasn’t what prevented him from slipping into dreamland; his brain activity was off the scales. Thoughts ran through his mind so fast that he couldn’t process any of them. He began to shudder and shake and the simplest tasks became monumental for his body; he occasionally forgot to blink. He had to keep reminding himself to breathe.
At 7:50 the next morning, Oscar gasped for air as he clutched his head in the most extreme pain he’d ever felt. He rolled off his bed and onto the floor, curling up into a ball and squeezing his head in the hopes that it might suppress the pain. It didn’t. At 7:59, Oscar’s brain overheated dramatically, and he went into convulsions.
At 8:00 on the dot, Oscar Valdes’ brain exploded in his head. The remnants of his once-brain leaked slowly out of his ears as his body continued convulsing for a few minutes after his death.
====
“We’ve got another one.”
Kate Park, detective for the D.C.PD, jerked back slightly as a manila folder landed on the desk in front of her. She looked up at her partner, Rick Scofield, in awe.
“Seriously?” she asked, turning her attention back down to the folder. She flipped it open and was greeted with a picture of Harvey Thompson, Massachusetts senator, and a homicide report. She sighed. Harvey was one of the younger ones.
“Yeah, Harvey Thompson, 42, senator from Massachusetts. Same thing as the others; somehow, his brain overloaded and just,” Rick paused to make an exploding noise, then continued, “he was found on the floor of his kitchen.”
“And the wife?”
“Dead.”
“Just like the others,” Kate sighed again, running a hand over her face, “and you checked with the medical department and the coroner, right? They don’t have any ideas as to what might have caused this?”
“Nope. There doesn’t seem to be any cause or connection between the senators.”
“Okay, well, keep checking. I’m going for a walk.”
Rick nodded and headed for the medical department on the second floor. Kate rose from her chair and yanked on her coat. She decided not to bring along her umbrella; she didn’t care about her hair getting wet anymore. It had been raining for weeks and she began to wonder if it would ever stop.
She strolled outside, shoving her hands deep in her pockets. As she stepped in puddle after puddle, she tried to figure out what could possibly cause one’s brain to literally explode inside one’s head. It was a horrifying way to die, that was for sure. But the more Kate thought about it, the less it made sense. Was there anything in existence that could do something like that?
After forty minutes of walking in the rain, she made her way back to the police department, lacking any more ideas than when she’d left. Rick was waiting at her desk, flipping through a few files on other senators whose brains exploded.
“See anything?” Kate asked, tilting her head. Rick smiled at her, but replied with a quiet, discontent ‘no.’ He put the files back on her desk and turned back to her.
“I’m heading home, okay?” he said.
“Yeah, I’m gonna stay a while longer, see if I can make a connection.”
“Okay. Don’t stay too late.” Rick kissed Kate on the cheek, then walked outside. Kate sat back down at her desk. A small pile of fifteen files on all the dead senators lay before her, staring her down, gloating in their secret link. She pushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear and rubbed her eyes. It would be a long night.
====
Kate Park had been skimming through file after file, looking for a common bond, for hours. When a report was written up for a dead senator, every bit of legislation and company/interest group they lobbied for in the past six months was made into a list and tacked onto the file. It was to provide leads, but they all seemed to be dead ends.
That was, until Kate noticed that four senators lobbied for BioCorp., a leader in biogenetics and virology. They were constantly hitting up the government for more funding, and it looked like they were getting through to the senators. Kate examined the rest of the files, anxious about this new break, and sure enough: every senator found dead had lobbied for BioCorp. in the past six months.
Kate couldn’t help but smile to herself. I did it! I finally found the damn connection! she thought, tossing the files back onto her desk. …but what does it mean?
====
Love y'all - Mira/Doc/Kat *meow*