Chapter 8- Miles

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You have to stop him, to murder Billy. Turn off his life support, his anesthesia. You have to undo what I've done."

Murder was the only way out, Miles had discovered that the hard way. It worked with Richard Trager, Eddie Gluskin, and Chris Walker. And now, it was coming full circle with the destruction of Billy Hope.

He kept telling himself he was too naive to think there were any other options. And despite everything he had gone through, he was okay with that. In fact, he quite enjoyed the idea of it. If word got out, and his escapades were documented properly, then it would be worth it.

His throat burned from the lasting impact of Chris Walker's deadly grip. If there was one person he was not going to cry over, it had to be him. His death had been swift, and he didn't have time to really process it before being smacked with another bombshell.

Rudolf Wernicke was still alive. Barely. He looked ready to collapse at any second from how old and wrinkly was. Like a doughy skeleton. And if natural causes, or the Walrider didn't kill him, Miles would happily oblige to do it himself. He felt as though he owed the old geezer a debt.

He didn't even bother looking back at the man as they exited the room together.

Switching his gaze to Waylon, he realized the other man probably wouldn't allow him to do it anyway. Billy Hope was the last person they needed to kill in actuality. And kill him, they will. There was an unspoken rule that whatever happens at Mount Massive stays at Mount Massive, though neither of them would admit it aloud.

"Are you ready for this?" He found himself asking Waylon. Waylon was sensitive, more so than Miles, so it was a reasonable question to ask. Besides, the poor guy had not stopped shaking since they had their chat with Wernicke.

"Yes." Waylon replied, almost robotically. With some hesitation, he added: "And no. This feels so wrong."

"We don't have a choice, we just have to do what he says." He tilted his neck, hearing and feeling a satisfying crack. Waylon noticeably winced.

"I know that. I trust Wernicke just as much as I did Father Martin---so not a lot." He exhaled a shaky breath. "But yeah, it's the right thing to do. He's just a horrible, horrible, fucked up human being. He stupidly created this experiment and is now trying to act all innocent and- ugh," Waylon rolled his eyes and scoffed. "He's supposed to be dead. You read his obituary, and his autopsy reports on three different accounts! It all said he died in 2009. He should be dead."

Miles hummed. "It's not too late for that." His smile broadened when he saw Waylon shooting him an exasperated look. "What? We wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for his little science project. I say he owes us. So give me an hour or so with a hacksaw and we'll have a grand time."

"Focus Miles," Waylon rubbed his temples. "We can worry about him later. We need to go to the Morphogenic Engine Chambers. We'll kill Billy and then the Walrider should be destroyed."

Miles had seen the Walrider even before he officially confirmed its sighting with Waylon. Wisps of it soaring past him and causing him to recoil, a sliver of lighting in the sewers, a body floating in the distance confused for a glitch in his camera while they were wandering the courtyards to the chapel.

Seeing the elevator take them down to the Underground Lab instead of the Administration Block was like a slap to the face. He thought it couldn't get any worse than being lost roaming more hallways. Then, his worst adversary Chris Walker had found them, before being torn to bits in a matter of seconds.

They continued to walk silently down the hall. Miles was grateful for once that Waylon used to work here, and as such knew the way around.

"You good?" He found himself asking.

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