She was an odd one, really.

It wasn’t hard to bribe her. The innocence tightly woven into her eyes was easy to spot. It was like a clear pressure point in her demeanor; a perfect description of who she was. It wasn’t long until she told me her name:

Martha. Martha Hearts.

If it weren’t for my research, I would’ve kept her around for a while. But alas, all good things must come to an end. Just as she would.

“Research has been going well, lately.” She grins, placing the test tube—sloshing with a thick neon liquid—onto the carrier.

It’d reached that time of evening where the rest of the unpaid staff of Sapphire Industries would reside to cheap cups of coffee and their own wallowing despair.

“All thanks to you,” I chuckle, slipping my gloves off with ease.

This is my chance.

“So…” Martha shrugs her coat off with a pinch of red on her cheeks. “Are you free for coffee after this?”

Goodness, I almost feel bad for her.

“Ah, I don’t think so,” I fabricate an apologetic expression, glancing down at my watch. “I’m staying for another hour.” Hopefully that would lure her.

“I could stay,” She pushes back a strand of strawberry blond hair. “I have nothing else to do this afternoon.”

“I don’t see why not.” I smile softly, heading towards the boiler room.

Martha’s perfectly drawn brows knit together. “What do you need from there?” But thankfully, her footsteps follow mine into the wide space.

The walls thrummed with life, light dimming as we enter. The room has been transformed into my sanctuary of research. A network of water-filled tanks and tables filled with papers of my own filed research.

“What—?” Martha’s eyes widen, voice stunned as the door automatically slams shut behind. The ambient beep of of the padlock seals her fate.

I ready a syringe. “You’ve received a great honor, Martha.”

“What honor?” The words had now reached a terrifying pitch.

“You will be my very first test subject for my research: Project Omen.” An electrifying discovery of a power source far powerful than any gamma ray. A sour ace that could be utilized for good.

“Wait—“

I swing forward, letting the needle sink into the skin of her neck with the swiftness of a viper lashing onto its prey. She lets out a muffled scream of horror as I muzzle her face with a clamp of my hand.

She goes limp against the cool, glossy tiles.

Sighing, I head towards the control panel of the water tank, flipping the switch. For a year, it would be Martha’s new home.

I let a slight smile curve along my lips.

martha

Oh how I love to play the innocent damsel. The clueless doe tramping through the night. I loved the expression drawn onto his face when he thought he had me all figured out. As if I were a child’s game.

The damn syringe was a fake. I’d been down to this hellhole millions of times, burning piles of his research to the ground.

He drags my body along the tiles. Towards the tank.

Cracking an eye open, I scan the room, searching for the knife I’d hidden amongst the frayed piles of paper.

He abandons me for the switch, watching silently as the tank thrums with life.

With his back partially turned, I take a small breath, hoisting myself onto a nearby desktop.

My hand finds the blade, fingers hungry for the feel of cool steel against it.

“You really outdid yourself.” I smirk.

He startles, head whipping back to find me rested against the wall, twirling the weapon hypnotically between my fingers.

“What?” His voice is penetrated by shock. “The hell—?”

I near him, watching my reflection dance across the tiles. “You were easy to corner. It’s surprising what playing pretend can do for you.” I murmur.

He trembles for a moment, bluster and bravado gone.

“You have ten seconds,” I whisper gently. “to run.”

Quaking, he bolts down the room, towards the exit.

Grinning, I follow in suite. I move like a knife through butter between the tables, aiming my knife towards the center of his back.

I toss it, watching as it pierces his flesh with a spray of blood.

He roars in pain, falling against a desktop.

“It’s sad, really,” I sigh. “All you had to do was be good.”

“Please—“ He begs, petrified. “Have mercy—“

I laugh. “Did you have mercy on your other ‘test subjects?’”

Silence.

With a final beat of quietude, I jab the knife down his chest, letting a flood of red dominate my vision.

5 minutes later

I tread down the parking lot, leaving the laboratory engulfed in flames behind me as I tug a cigarette from my bag.

I smile.

“A minute to spare for some coffee.”