Page 102 of The Chemist

Panic flooded Diesel’s veins as he struggled against the straps to try and free himself. He needed to escape. This was not how his life story was going to end. Tied to an ugly-ass gurney in a cold, dark room, surrounded by strung-out strangers.

“Argh!” They all groaned as the room was suddenly flooded with light.

“Calm your tits. No one’s going to die…yet,” an annoyed voice answered somewhere by their feet. “Welcome, everyone! I trust that you are well-rested and ready for our little adventure!”

Dr. Baasch walked into the center of the room, placed his hands in his dirty lab coat pockets, and smiled at everyone. His greeting was cold and gave everyone chills.

His left eye was a pale, dead blue, while his right eye was a serious, dark brown. His eyes moved together, but only the brown one registered any sight. Diesel had almost forgotten that the doctor only had one functioning eye. The doc refused to wear an eyepatch, Chase had explained to him one day, choosing to show everyone the cruelty and suffering that he had endured since his teens.

According to the doctor’s medical files, he lost sight in his left eye when he was seventeen—a horrific act of violence placed upon him by his stepfather and a jug of bleach. Apparently, Diesel wasn’t the only one with parents who were assholes.

“First off, I wanted to congratulate you all on being selected! You have all been given the honor of helping to shape mankind as well as providing some much-needed relief and entertainment!” Silent sobs continued as the mad doctor began his spiel. “My name is Dr. Baasch, and you, lucky participants, will be taking part in a little experiment that I have going on.”

The doctor made his way around the room, caressing his patient’s arms and faces as he passed them by.

Was he examining them? Or was he marveling at the torture that he was inflicting on all of his victims? Some people got offon pain, while others got off on fear. Others, however, got off on watching people suffer. The look of pure terror in their eyes was just enough to give these sick and twisted people mental boners where they stood. Was the doctor one of those people?

“I have two drugs that are currently being developed. Both have military applications, one as an interrogation drug, fueled by the individual’s fears and paranoia, the other as a military stimulant, enhancing the individual’s aggression and anger. Making them an unstoppable killer.”

The room fell silent as they listened in horror at the speech being delivered.

“As many of you may know—or perhaps not—research and development requires funding. Not many universities are willing to fund a project that can be used for such lethal purposes, so I’ve had to be…creative. What was my solution, you might ask?” His cold, dead eye scanned the faces of those around him.

He reminded Diesel of a demon sent from hell to check out the crop and see which bad seed deserved to bask in an eternity of torment. Diesel had done enough bad shit in his life. Perhaps this was his punishment for a life misled.

Was this how the Diesel Pratt story ends?

The doctor’s hand rested on Diesel’s bare foot. Like this last part was especially meant for him.

“How do I fund this little project?” the man asked once again as if leading to a dramatic buildup. “By broadcasting our little experiment to a select few billionaires who have a bit of a taste for pain and dismemberment.” The doc clasped his hands over his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant pain andexperiment.”

The sadistic grin plastered to the man’s face told everyone that he had not misspoken. Pain and dismemberment were clearly part of their future.

“Each of you will be given one of the previously mentioned drugs and let loose in the woods surrounding this facility.Hundreds of cameras strategically placed will monitor your progress as you experience the effects of the drug in a highly charged environment. I will be recording the effects of the drugs while my viewers will be watching as you tear each other to pieces.” An evil grin spread across the doctor’s face. The man really was evil. “The last man… or woman… standing will be returned back to civilization marked as the clear winner of this challenge. Of course, none of you will remember any of this, so it’s really pointless sharing any of this with you.”

The other three let out terrified cries for help, twisting and turning and fighting against their binds.

Even if they did break free, did they really expect to leave the facility alive? Diesel got the sense that this was a one-way ticket to the man upstairs or, in his case, probably the man downstairs.

The doctor’s eyes landed on Diesel. His eyebrows turned downward as if he were addressing an annoying pebble in his shoe.

“So, you must be Mr. Pratt,” the man sneered, resting his hand on the bars at the side of the gurney.

Diesel glanced at the others, who were all staring at him with concerned eyes.

Guess he was the first to get axed from the program.

God, even his jokes were inappropriate.

“I heard there was a bit of trouble at the party after we left. Some friends of yours, I presume? One brutish man kept yelling your name.” The man stared at Diesel like a vulture circling its prey. “Are they going to be a problem for me?”

This was the first time Diesel was getting such a close-up view of the doctor. He was a rough-looking man with a strong jaw and dark circles under his eyes. Zero had previously mentioned something about the doctor having German and French blood. His father was German, but his mother was French? Or something like that.

Diesel shrugged. “Why are you asking me? I have no idea who you’re talking about or what just happened.”

An evil smirk cut across the mad doctor’s face. “We’ll see about that. Guess we know what drug you’ll be testing. Can’t wait to see you grunt like a dog.”

The man stepped away from Diesel, and four men, all dressed in white, stepped forward, each holding a needle in their hand.

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