An Apple A Day (Wattys2019)

Chapter 17 - Initiation

Doc

At 22:00 I get out my van, smoking and loitering by the shopfront, in the shadows out the way of the light. In the darkness I watch that kid from earlier and my target wave goodbye as the kid slinks into a car. I retract back into the bushes, watching through scars in the branches until the headlights disappear. Once there gone and she's all alone I emerge from my hiding spot and walk up to her, putting on my biggest fake smile. "Hi, Miss Vezza!" I call, stopping just as she turns around.

Her annoying smile, so pleasant and genuinely sickening, bores painfully into my eyelids. "Oh - Doctor. What can I do for you?" She asks, confused and looking around. It's fun to watch her eyes dart around nervously like that. I reach, slowly into my pocket, keeping my eyes trained on hers as I pull out my knife, shining it under the glow of the street lamp.

"You have three options," I explain to it, my target. "Option 1: I could carve you up right here. Option 2: could chloroform you, but I won't go easy on you when the time comes," I watch its face; it isn't going to run. I think it's too scared. "Option 3: You get in my van and this will be quick and painless. Which one?"

It opens its mouth to speak but I interject before it can. "Don't tell me. Just get in my van," I step aside, gesturing politely for it to pass me.

Miles

I hear struggling and a woman's screaming coming from the garage, but when I try to open the door it remains locked. I knock but Doc's voice rings so loud. "Don't fucking come in here!" Startled and feeling my body tense in foreboding fright I retreat, but stand hear the door, unable to move. A few minutes later, Doc calls me down to his operating room.

With bated breath I anxiously climb down the stairs, feeling my hand slip against the railing. When I reach the bottom I almost puke. Lying on the operating table is Miss Vezza.

"You might remember her," Doc slides over his tray of operating tools, giving me a buffet of bladed instruments to choose from. "Operate - do whatever you want. Prove you love me. Impress me and I'll love you back,"

Forgotten memories flood back to me and I spiral to the floor, holding my head and crying out in agony as hey overfill my head. Memories of my childhood, of her and her sweet voice. Of afternoon teatimes and a sympathetic hand on my lap. You'll be alright. Your mother will get better. She used to tell me when she gave me free goodies with my regular shopping - lollipops, extra packs of food or toiletries in my bags.

But she lied. Miss Vezza said it would be alright and it wasn't. She said my mother would get better and she didn't. Miss Vezza is a liar. That thought, that single thought makes me stand, facing her form, shivering in fright I think about her lies and her fakery and it fills me with an unchained fury. Instead of grabbing a weapon I walk up until I stand just above her face.

She's chained down and gagged so she can't lie anymore. I recognise the gah, one Doc used on me when I first arrived here. But her eyes stare straight into mine. What is that, shock? It suddenly occurs to me how much I've forgotten about people. I can't read their facial expressions anymore. This look could mean anything, but I bet she's suffering. That's all that matters - I shall be avenged from her lies by her suffering.

My hand shoots out like a mechanical thrust outwith my control. Ignoring the offered weapons I grip her ageing neck in my hands tightly. I squeeze and push and her breath hitches, I watch her turn red then blue then purple. I've never done this, I don't know how. Staring at Doc, wordlessly I plead for his help.

Doc understands, of course he does. He nods and comes over, lying his hand atop mine and guiding it to the correct position. He squeezes with me, feeling the tendons collapse and the bony windpipe struggle under the weight of our bodies. Eventually a crush assaults my ears and makes me shudder in revulsion. I pull away so quickly, numb and confused and reliant on Doc.

Suddenly and from behind, Doc grabs my hand, a knife in his, and without warning we slam the blade into her throat in a single fatal blow. Doc lets go of my hand and I keep stabbing, I can't stop. I can't until I'm drenched in her thick, sticky blood caked in layers over my small body and saturating my clothes. The knife falls with a clatter to the floor and I double over, unable to look at the monstrous corpse before me, the beautiful creation I destroyed in a second of madness.

Sweating and shaking I kneel, walls of cold slamming into me, freezing my bones. I feel a hand on my back and look up into Doc's proud smile and calming eyes. "It's okay Miles. You're safe, come here," he pulls me into a hug, but it's gentle and loose. He waits patiently for me to return it. "You're so good Miles. Well done, I love you,"

"I love you Doc,"

"Let's go upstairs,"

Doc

"Okay, I trust you now," I explain to Miles, who sits shuddering on my couch in the living room. I'm not even angry about the blood, litres and litres spilling over my carpets. I don't care, I'm just filled with a sense of complete pride in my test subject. He deserves a reward for his efficiency. "You have 5 questions. Whatever they are I must answer and I must answer honestly,"

Immediately he asks. "What's your name? I mean, what makes have you had?"

What names have I had? Oh he's good. I sigh, realising my defeat as I am duty bound by promise to answer. "Originally my name was Andreas Von Sauer, but I haven't gone by that in many years. My name became Doc in my teen years and hasn't been changed. However, on my 'official', or forged documents my name is Alexander Milvicc. You will remain calling me Doc,"

"Your name was nice..." he trails off in an almost disappointed pout. I don't budge.

"Who is 'He'?"

Of course I know who he means. "He is what I am to you. After the death of my brother Ludwig He adopted me per se. He made me His test subject, but different from you. His goal was to create the perfect weapon; a psychopath, a killer, and prove the drastic effects of psychological conditioning. I am His successful experiment," I explain calmly, my voice impassive and matching my true feelings. I honestly don't care about what He did to me.

Miles looks up at me, his gaze hardened. "How many 'subjects' have you had?"

"Dozens," I answer, honestly an estimation. I don't remember how many, but I always remember my first. I've been trying to forget that ever since, but He later told me it's impossible to forget the first person you kill.

"What happens now?"

A very good question. "Now, we begin our new life. I trust you completely. You're free, my experiment. You can have your own subjects, be my equal partner. I'll never do anything without your consent,"

"No, I mean-"

I raise my hand and he stops. "I know what you mean. Fine, I'll continue. Your new name is Dominic Assen. I'll get you forged documents from Him; a high school certificate of passing subjects. You will study Economics under He and I for the next two years, then attend university for it,"

I watch his mouth open in protest but again, I quickly shut him up. "If you want to remain my equal partner you will do this or I can remove all your privileges in a second. Understand me?"

He nods.

"Good. Next question,"

"Why do you insist on me learning?"

I smile. This is a good one. "You need your independence beyond me so that if something happens to me you have the skills to exist independently. Additionally, I've been watching you and your fascination with numbers. It's a hidden talent of yours and I want to nourish it," I explain.

"Thanks," his gaze is steely. "I'm done asking,"

Four. Okay. "Fine," I stand up, lingering by the doorway for a second. I reach out my hand for him to take. "Come on, lets go to bed,"

"Like this?" He gestures down at his clothes sodden with blood. I lick my lips discreetly, hoping he doesn't see. "Can't I shower first?"

"If you like," I acquiesce. "I'd rather you didn't,"

He stares at me for a second before taking my hand, a light dusting of blush on his face as he follows me to our bedroom.