Eric was jolted into the present as there was a loud knocking on the window. Mr. Rittevon stood outside in the pouring rain, motioning for him to get out of the car.
Eric opened the door and stepped out.

“All’s well, sir?� he asked, and Mr. Rittevon nodded.

“No problem at all. His house is our house. Here, help me with my bags,� he replied, opening the door and pulling out two large suitcases. Eric followed suit, eager to get out of the rain and into some warm clothes.

After some careful stacking, and very full hands, both men managed to get all nine suitcases out of the backseat and trunk.

Eric noticed that Mr. Rittevon had the briefcase shackled to his wrist again, and it hung, unheld. ‘That must really hurt,’ Eric mused, as they walked laboriously along the walkway to the large house.

Before Eric had stepped out of the car, his hair had dried. Now, it was soaking wet and he was freezing cold all over again. He hoped that his employer’s friend, whoever it was, had a warm fire and some soup.

They reached the door and Mr. Rittevon kicked the door a few times. It was opened a few seconds later, and Mr. Rittevon stepped in, Eric right behind him.

“Who is this?� asked an uneasy blond man in a robe to Eric’s left. “You didn’t tell me about another person with you.�

Eric looked over at his employer, puzzled. Hadn’t he said everything was all right?

“This is Eric Linner, my assistant,� Mr. Rittevon said, putting a few suitcases down and placing his hand on Eric’s shoulder. Eric glanced over at him, surprised, and admittedly, flattered. “Eric, this is Erwin Zurich, my long-time associate.�

Eric stepped forward, holding out his hand. Mr. Zurich, hesitant, shook it and stepped back.
“This house has eight bedrooms, find two to your liking. Please excuse me while I make myself presentable,� he said softly, before walking quickly away down a hallway.

“You heard the man,� Mr. Rittevon said, amused, “Find your room.� Eric followed Mr. Rittevon down the hallway, suitcases in tow. There was a curving staircase with a door under it, and Mr. Rittevon walked over and kicked the door open, frowning.

“Servants quarters,� he said disdainfully. “Upstairs.� Eric was silent, following his employer up the long staircase, careful not to drop any of the suitcases he held. Mr. Rittevon opened the first door he found, and stepped inside, turning on the light.

“I’ll take this one,� he said, setting his suitcases on the floor, “You take that one, over there.� He pointed to the room next door.

“Yes, sir,� Eric said, a bit disappointed. It seemed as though even his ability to do things on his own determinism had been rationed by his employer. He laid the suitcases down next to the ones Mr. Rittevon had set down, and went to go check out his room.

Turning the light, Eric gasped. There was a large four poster bed on one side, and a walk-in closet on the other. The bed was already made, with what looked like very high-quality sheets. He ran over to the closet, pulling the door open. To his dismay, there was nothing inside.

Suddenly, a terrible realization sank over him. He hadn’t packed a change of clothes.

A luxurious bureau sat against the wall next to the closet, and he found it was empty, too.

Pulling back the silken comforter on the bed, he found himself getting tired already. Touching the soft sheets that were nicer than any others he’d ever felt before, he smiled. Mr. Zurich’s house was much more pleasant than Mr. Rittevon’s. It might not have been as large or ornate, but it was without the ominous, malicious energy that came with his own employer’s house.

Uplifted, he stepped off of the bed and left the room. Mr. Rittevon was still unpacking, so Eric headed downstairs.

Walking through the hallway, there was a oil portrait of Mr. Zurich on the wall that was framed ornately, eerily accurate in detail.

He spotted the real Mr. Zurich a few seconds later, sitting in one of several leather chairs. Eric walked over and sat in a chair across from him, and they were silent for a while until Mr. Zurich spoke up.

“You aren’t really his assistant, are you?� he said, looking Eric in the eyes.

“No, Mr. Zurich, I’m his steward,� he replied, a little bit embarrassed. The other man laughed.

“Call me Erwin, please,� he said, examining his fingernails as he spoke.

“How did you come to know Mr. Rittevon?� Eric asked. Mr. Zurich smiled grimly.

“It doesn’t matter,� he said quietly, shaking his head a little. “Just… everyday business. Are you hungry, or thirsty?�

“No, sir, but… I was wondering, is it possible that I could borrow a change of clothes? The departure was pretty abrupt, and I didn’t have time to pack for myself.�

“Yeah, I might have something you can use,� Mr. Zurich said, sizing Eric up.

Eric felt a presence behind him, and sure enough, Mr. Rittevon glided into the room from the hallway and sat down in a chair. He was wearing a suit exactly like the one he was wearing before, only dry.

“Good evening, Herr Rittevon,� Mr. Zurich said, with a gracious nod.

“Evening, Erwin,� Mr. Rittevon said in reply. Mr. Zurich frowned. Eric zoned out as the two other men engaged in conversation, reviewing in his mind the events of the day. Suddenly tired, he came back into the present.

“Tell me, Herr Rittevon, do you believe in God?� Mr. Zurich asked, entirely serious. Mr. Rittevon chuckled.

“I believe in a reasonable rate of return,� he replied, voice smooth. Mr. Zurich did not smile. Eric stood up, uneasy.

“Please excuse me, I’m very tired, and I’m going to head to bed now,� he said, “Can I borrow a nightshirt?�

“You can use one of my shirts to sleep in, they’re hanging up in the closet,� Mr. Rittevon said, not looking at him.

“Thank you, sir. Mr. Zurich, you’ve been very kind, I appreciate your allowing me to stay,� Eric said, and turned to leave.

As he walked back through the hallway, he noticed a small table at the end with several picture frames on it. One was turned face-down. Eric couldn’t resist peeking at it.
Mr. Zurich sat at a desk, face handsome but blank. Mr. Rittevon stood beside him, with one hand on Mr. Zurich’s shoulder and the other resting on a resplendent cane. There was a glimmering pin on his tie, and he had a sinister smile on his face.
Eric couldn’t help but shiver a little at his employer’s expression, putting the picture back, face down. Exhausted, he walked forward to the stairs and climbed them, agitated.
What was it with rich people and long staircases?
He was so tired by the time he reached the top that he felt he could fall asleep right then, but he walked into Mr. Rittevon’s room. Opening the closet doors, he was taken aback by the several rows of identical expensive-looking pin-striped suits. Between them were identical white dress shirts, along with extras at the end. Eric grabbed one and left, closing the door behind him. Pushing open the door to his own room, he quickly stripped down, tossing his still-wet clothes into a corner and putting on the shirt he had taken from his employer.

The sleeves went past his fingers, and the shirt-tails went halfway down his thighs. Much too large, and perfect for sleeping in. With a little bit of difficulty, he buttoned up the front. He hadn’t realized Mr. Rittevon was that much larger than him. Finally, he crawled into bed, and he was asleep before he had pulled the covers up all the way.

It was a faded, old fashioned colored photo, crinkled at the edges. Two handsome young men, perhaps in their middle or late teens, stood on a pier that was very close to what seemed to be a lake.

They wore wet cut-off jeans in the stead of proper bathing suits, and Eric recognized one as a young Mr. Zurich. With messy blond hair and a carefree smile, he was looking somewhere to the left of the camera and holding up two fingers in a ‘peace’ gesture.

The boy standing next to him had wet dark hair that gleamed in the sun’s rays, and was looking straight into the lens, tilting his head slightly. There seemed to be a different aura about him than the one of the young Mr. Zurich. His eyes seemed cold and intent, and even his lazy smile seemed a little sinister.

Eric’s breath caught in his throat. Could it be a teenaged Mr. Rittevon? Yes, the more he looked the more he was sure of it.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was doing something he was not supposed to. He quickly put the picture back into the drawer and shut it, heart pounding. He could hear people talking quietly in the den, but there was a tense energy that made him wary.

Peeking around the corner, he saw his employer and Mr. Zurich seated, Mr. Rittevon opposite him, holding the smooth black briefcase he had been shackled to.

Eric strained to see inside, but couldn’t, as it had not been opened. Neither of the other men noticed him as they talked.

“Remember mobile-lab 210?� Mr. Rittevon asked quietly, and Mr. Zurich looked away.

“I don’t wish to discuss these matters with you, Herr Rittevon,� he said, but Mr. Rittevon continued.

“Did you ever discover it’s whereabouts?� Mr. Rittevon asked, and Mr. Zurich shook his head.

“I told you, I don’t-�

“I did.�

Mr. Zurich gasped a little, meeting Mr. Rittevon’s amused gaze. Slowly, he bent to unlock the briefcase, and it opened silently.

“The last case of Eon8,� he said, lifting out a vial encased in glass and steel, filled with a dark red liquid. “A… a child, contracted it months ago, but lived. The Lesch-Nyhan, you know… I liquidated him, and acquired this. This… a key, to power, to wealth. To… eternal prosperity.�

Eric’s eyes widened. Eon8? He had heard that name somewhere before. Mr. Zurich stood up suddenly.

“Get that thing out of my house,� Mr. Zurich said, threateningly. Mr. Rittevon smiled demurely, placing the vial back into the briefcase. “I know why you’re here, Rittevon, and I won’t comply. I’ll not meddle with nor re-arrange God’s most delicate work for the mere sake of profit.�

Exasperated, Mr. Zurich leaned forward and slammed his associate’s briefcase shut. “I should evict you, right now.�

Mr. Rittevon smiled, tilting his head a little, looking up at Mr. Zurich. “Why don’t you, Erwin?� he asked, with a beguiling smile. Mr. Zurich turned away, pacing across the room. “What is it about me, that keeps you crawling back?�

“I… I don’t know,� he said, desperate and strained. “You- you and your forked tongue! I’ll not do the work of Satan nor his servants!� Mr. Rittevon stood up, walking over to his associate and placing a leather-gloved hand on his shoulder.

Mr. Zurich whirled around, slapping Mr. Rittevon’s hand off his shoulder, on the defensive.

“It’s no sin, Erwin,� Mr. Rittevon purred, “I’ve seen Sylex’s financial records, you’re finished. Would your benevolent Lord really keep you from the things you love?�

Mr. Zurich stood still with a grimace on his face, wracked with mental conflict.

“And who’s going to protest? A few impoverished unknowns?� Mr. Rittevon continued smoothly, circling his associate slowly, gracefully, “Think of the big picture, Erwin. Think of yourself, for once. You’re so selfless.�

Eric’s heart caught in his throat, he could see what was happening, though he did not understand for what, or exactly why. He stood frozen, powerless to do anything but watch.

“Just…think, Erwin,� Mr. Rittevon whispered, locking his cool gaze onto Mr. Zurich’s unsteady one. “Sylex BioIndustries, back in business. Erwin Johannes Eugen Zurich, back on top.� Mr. Zurich averted his eyes, silent.

Mr. Rittevon, with a sly, determined smile, unbuttoned his associate’s coat, sliding his hand into an inside pocket and pulling out a rosary.

“You can always be absolved in the eyes of your Lord,� he whispered, pushing the rosary into Mr. Zurich’s palm. Mr. Zurich closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath.

Mr. Rittevon held out his hand, tilting his head slightly. “What do you say?� Hesitant, Mr. Zurich reached his hand out, nearly touching Mr. Rittevon’s gloved fingers with his own bare ones.

“Forgive me, Lord…�

Before Eric could stop himself, he cried out. Mr. Rittevon whipped around, lip curled.

“I’ve had it with your eavesdropping, boy,� he snarled. Eric, breath catching in his throat, regretted his action. His eyes flickered to the open briefcase and the steel vial nestled in the middle, and he knew what he had to do. Feinting a move to the right, he suddenly changed direction and dashed around the corner and chair in his way, to his left.

Mr. Rittevon, livid, nearly reached the briefcase before Eric did, and in a lightning fast movement, slammed the lid shut. Eric, vial in hand, could feel the edge brush his knuckles as he pulled his hand back. Slipping as he stood to run, his momentum and adrenaline faltered, and Mr. Rittevon was behind him before he could regain his balance.

He felt something closing on his neck, and he realized Mr. Rittevon was choking him with his own necktie. Vision fazing in and out, he knew he had little time left. With the last of his strength, he elbowed Mr. Rittevon in the stomach as hard as he could. His employer cursed, and fell back.

Quickly, Eric loosened his tie and turned around, gasping for air. Gritting his teeth determinedly, he clenched the vial in his hand, then threw it as hard as his body would allow against the brick hearth. He heard a wheezing laugh behind him. With horror, he realized that the vial was completely unharmed.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Rittevon get to his feet and straighten his tie. Miraculously, Eric somehow dodged his employer’s lunge and managed to push him off- balance.

Leaping, he tackled the larger man, and pinned him to the floor, sitting on his hips. Before Mr. Rittevon had time to counter-attack, handsome face twisted with rage, Eric landed a solid elbow into his solar plexus.

As his employer gasped for air, in pain, Eric reached into his coat pockets, searching around until he found what he was looking for. Pulling out Mr. Rittevon’s pistol, he flicked the safety off and pointed it squarely into his face.

Mr. Rittevon let a little laugh, and leaned his head back onto the stone floor. Eric pushed the gun into his employer’s neck, roughly. Mr. Rittevon licked his lips slowly, nervously.

“Oh, you wouldn’t…�

“Stop it!� Eric shouted, “I want… I want answers!�

“Well,� Mr. Rittevon purred, “You’ve got to ask questions first.�

“What’s in that vial, and what’s Eon8!? What’s Sylex, and who are you, really?! Why did you drag me here with you, and- �

“Slow down, speed-racer,� Mr. Rittevon sneered, and Eric jabbed the gun against his neck, making him cough. “This really isn’t your business, steward.�

In the corner of his eye, Eric saw Mr. Zurich get to his hands and knees and slowly crawl behind a leather couch. He glared at his employer, who rolled his eyes, remaining arrogant even as the situation was against him.

“Oh, how ironic. Why, just a few months ago, I found myself in nearly the same predicament,� Mr. Rittevon mused, seeming to stall for time. Eric, heart racing, pressed the barrel of the gun into Mr. Rittevon’s neck once more.

“Eon8 is a virus, created by Herr Zurich and his crack team of bioengineers,� Mr. Rittevon explained, with an irritated sigh, “You might know it as Thomassen’s Disease.�

Eric gasped, suddenly taken back a few years into his past.

A teenaged blond boy watched his mother and infant brother being wheeled into a black ambulance by attendants clad in white HazMat suits. He’d only recently heard of an outbreak of some sickness that made you twitch and bleed, but that was somewhere in Canada. It was his first week starting his senior year in school, what could he care about some Canuks catching some stupid cold?

Tears streamed down the boy’s face as the black doors closed solidly, and the vehicle started to move forward, taking away the only two people he had ever loved.

They did not return, and he was taken to quarantine for several weeks. People had come to speak to him, to console him, to placate him. His mother’s weakened condition, they said she had been predisposed… but none of that had mattered to him. He had never contracted the disease himself, but for months on end, he wished he had.

Back to the present, Eric choked back a sob. “That was …you?� Light reflected off of Mr. Rittevon’s glasses as he smirked. “You condemned hundreds of thousands of innocent people to a painful death… to line your own pockets…?�

“D’awww,� Mr. Rittevon sneered, mocking and false, “Does itty-bitty Ewic wemember his nasty sickie fwends?�

Eric felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest, and he let out a trembling breath. He couldn’t bear to look into Mr. Rittevon’s cold eyes, and he stared absently at the glittering ruby pinned to the man’s tie. Slowly, as he recovered from the shock, he was aware of Mr. Rittevon talking.

“-The most powerful, frightening, virulent, recombinant pathogen man has yet to create,� Mr. Rittevon said, grabbing Eric by the tie suddenly and pulling him forward.

Smiling a sick, sinister smile, he hissed a single sentence into Eric’s cheek.

“I hope it tore your life apart.�

A single tear fell from Eric’s eyelashes onto Mr. Rittevon’s lips. Eric watched in shock as his mother’s murderer licked the tear from his lips and laughed.

“You know you can’t win,� Mr. Rittevon whispered, tilting his head as his gaze pierced Eric’s own. Eric felt his baby brother’s murderer touch his hand with his own gloved one, and lift the gun from his neck.

A sob broke from his throat, and he let out a shaky gasp, letting Mr. Rittevon guide the hand that held the gun up to his own temple, the barrel cold against his bare skin.

“The pain… the anguish… I know how it feels. Be kind to yourself-� Mr. Rittevon touched Eric’s tearstained cheek with a gloved hand, “-End it.�

Eric’s lower lip trembled, and he pulled the trigger. The last thing he ever saw was Mr. Rittevon’s magnificent blue eyes, void and unfeeling.


THE END

I've been writing a lot lately o___o;;

Here's the third part in the Outbreak Series.

Enjoy.

4:40, 23rd July Servant’s Quarters, Zurich Residence

A young woman with soft brown eyes and hair sat up suddenly, feeling an adrenaline surge. A noise had awakened her, like a door slamming, like a… gunshot? Impossible. Yet, she was positive it had happened. Brushing her thick hair back out of her eyes, she looked around quickly. Seeing nothing, she laid back down, still wary.

Something, a movement in the corner, caught her attention. She rolled over, heart pounding, to squint through the darkness, anxious to find it’s source but not daring to get out of bed just yet. She heard something, a rush of air, that seemed to resonate through the room.

Without warning, a terrible feeling rushed over her, saturating her, overwhelming her. Morose and tormented, an unbelievable sadness, a helplessness. The air seemed to ring with desperation, and torturing agony, urgency.

Elsa cried out, and suddenly, it was gone. She opened her eyes, suddenly drenched in sweat, and almost screamed. A transparent figure stood before her, emanating only a fraction of the incredible sadness she had felt a moment earlier.

It took the form of a young man. The faint outline of it’s clothes, a suit and tie, were only just visible. Heavy looking though transparent shackles were fastened to it’s ankles, and what seemed like the shadows of tears were streaked down it’s soft face.

Elsa sat up, putting her knees to her chest and folding her arms tightly around them.

The figure held her gaze for a moment, then turned away. In a nano-second, the room was filled with the suffocating misery, as the figure glided toward the wall, fading further.

“Wait,� Elsa stammered, and the figure looked back, meeting her apprehensive brown eyes with it’s own deep, transparent ones. On the side of the figure’s head were dark marks streaked down from what looked to be a gun wound. “I remember you.�

The figure looked at the floor, then glided to a standing full-length mirror on the opposite side of the room, staring lugubriously at it’s own faint reflection.

“Yes, I remember you,� Elsa repeated, frowning. “Your name is- or was, Eric, right?� The figure turned back around, and another deep melancholy filled Elsa before the figure, very slowly, nodded. Elsa’s brow furrowed as the form of Eric glided into the mirror, almost passing through it before stopping, and turning back around. She watched as letters appeared on the mirror slowly, within Eric’s own image.

“Where is Heaven,� Elsa read aloud, and looked back up at Eric’s tortured eyes. A sudden flash of images and feelings hit her, and she cried out.

A mother and child being wheeled into a black, iron clad ambulance, a strangling amount of confusion, graduating high-school, his first full-time job. An elegant room, gashes in an accountant’s face, paralyzing fear, a killer’s heartbeat, new cufflinks. The ancient dream-catcher in the attic, trapped for months, helpless.

All of it hit her in a second, but it felt like hours and it threatened to go on, threatened to drown her in it’s sadness, in it’s depth.

Elsa opened her eyes, and it stopped. Eric’s form blinked morosely, and tilted it’s head in a distinctly Rittevon-esque manner.

“He killed you, didn’t he?� Elsa asked softly, and the figure slumped it’s shoulders a little, and nodded gloomily.

Elsa watched as it lifted a lucent arm and pointed fingers, like a gun, into it’s own temple.

A wave of another intense feeling soaked through the room, a tense, crackling anger. It disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by the mild melancholy of before. Elsa shivered, glad that she hadn’t been present at the time the event had happened.

Slowly, new letters appeared on the mirror, written in what looked like a layer of ice. Elsa squinted to read them. ‘You must stop the tragedy, that I could not.’ She frowned.

Eric’s form flipped transparent hair that had once been blonde out from in front of it’s watery, tortured eyes, and glided sadly away from the mirror.

It almost seemed to leave marks in the thick, depressing air as it moved. If she tried hard, Elsa could almost hear the chains of Eric’s shackles rattle and clink, a terribly sad sound, but she was probably imagining it.

“What… where are you going? What does it mean?� she asked in a stammer, getting out of bed. “What am I supposed to stop, is it bad, is it- �

Eric’s faint silver form turned to Elsa again, and shook it’s head, giving her a terribly depressing, lugubrious look before fading away completely, leaving nothing behind but slight air of sadness. Elsa sat back, and closed her eyes, struggling to fight off the urge to cry.

9:24, Later That Day, Zurich Residence, Outside New York City

Elsa, dressed in maid’s clothing, hurried down an ornate curved staircase, her feet making soft pitter-pattering sounds on the steps as she did so. She set her broom against the bottom of the banister, and strode quickly away from it and into a hallway.

She struggled to keep her mind to the present that not on the strange events of the morning before. Had it only been a dream?

“Awfully early for a visitor,� she said aloud, walking past a detailed oil painting of her employer and into an elegantly furnished foyer. Picking up the pace a little, she hurried to a set of large wooden doors and opened one gently.

Two unsmiling men stood beside a woman holding a very sturdy-looking briefcase that was shackled to her wrist. The morning sun reflected a little from their pristine white lab-coats.

“Good morning,� the maid greeted, squinting a little against the white, “How can I be of service?�

“We need to see Herr Zurich,� the woman said, not kindly, “Now.� The maid blinked, taken aback at her tone.

“Er, I’m afraid Herr Zurich is not available to receive visitors right now,� she replied, admittedly letting a defensive tone into her voice.

The other woman’s upper lip twitched a little, almost entirely unnoticeable. She smiled poisonously, and stepped forward. The maid instinctively stepped back, but the other woman grabbed her by the collar and pulled her forward.

“See, of course you wouldn’t understand,� the woman sneered, her nose mere inches from the maid’s own,
“What we have waiting is more crucial, more vital, more entirely imperative to Herr Zurich than anything else in his life at the current time. Especially you.�

The maid blinked, and involuntarily stepped aside. The other woman stepped over the threshold and flipped her dark hair into the maid’s face as she walked by, followed by the two men.

“Wait here for me- I mean, him- I mean-� the maid stammered, “I’ll tell him you’re here.�

“That’s right,� the woman purred, and the maid turned away, flustered. Eager to leave the presence of the vile woman, she walked as quickly as she could through the hallway and up the staircase.

“Mmph.�

Erwin Zurich frowned and rolled over, discomposed at being awoken before he was finished resting. “Go ‘way,� he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head with a pillow.

“Herr Zurich, sir,� said a voice he recognized as belonging to his maid, Elsa, “Forgive me for waking you, but an awful woman is here to see you.�

“Whaaa?� murmured Mr. Zurich, removing the pillow from his face and fumbling for his glasses on the nightstand beside his bed.

“You have visitors, sir,� Elsa said softly, “They’re waiting in the parlor for you.� Mr. Zurich sat up, blinking as his eyes focused properly.

“Serve them breakfast, if they haven’t already,� he ordered, holding back a yawn. “I’ll be right down.�

“Yes, sir,� Elsa said, and bowed slightly before quickly leaving. After the door closed behind her, Mr. Zurich ran a hand through his hair and got out of bed.

Elsa frowned as she hurried down the staircase once more, wishing she didn’t have to face the awful woman again. So deep in her thoughts was she, she didn’t notice a presence behind her.

“Good morning, miss,� whispered a smooth voice from behind her.

Elsa flinched, and turned around quickly to face a tall, dark-haired man in an immaculate pin-striped suit.

“Please, Herr Rittevon,� Elsa breathed, looking away from his un-naturally sinister smile and piercing blue eyes, “I’ve asked you not to startle me like that.�

Mr. Rittevon tilted his head a little to the side, watching Elsa step quickly away from him and grab the broom she had left at the bottom of the stairs.

Elsa had the sudden urge to take the broom and shoo him away with it, but she repressed it and decided to leave him alone, trying desperately to calm her nerves.

“Is Erwin awake yet?� Mr. Rittevon called to her from the stairs as she walked as quickly as was polite into the hallway.

“Yes, he’s getting ready now,� she replied, turning back to face him. “In fact, we have visitors waiting for him, I’m sure they would like to have company until his arrival.�

‘Let him deal with that awful woman,’ she thought, with a triumphant little smile as she continued down the hallway.

Avoiding the parlor, she walked to the kitchen where a few people dressed as cooks bustled about, getting the kitchen ready for the day. She approached a young man who appeared to be the one in charge.

“Herr Zurich requests that breakfast be served to his guests,� she told him, “Right away.�

“Where I come from, pretty girls aren’t expected to order people about,� the man replied, with a smile. Elsa felt her cheeks redden, and she turned away.

“Just do it, Alec,� she said, not unkindly, as she walked away.

Laughing quietly to herself, she left the kitchen and walked to the parlor, peeking in through the slight opening of the doors.

Mr. Rittevon stood in front of the three guests, shaking their hands in turn. When one of the men, blond and dressed in a lab coat approached him, he frowned.

“You look like someone… someone I once knew,� Mr. Rittevon said, tilting his head a little and stepping a little bit closer.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were him,� Mr. Rittevon continued, moving a hand up to touch the blond man’s cheek.

When the other man frowned and turned away a little, Mr. Rittevon laughed and stepped back. “Of course,� he said quietly, almost a whisper, with an undertone of something slightly sinister, “That would be impossible.�

Elsa hadn’t been aware of the tense energy building until it was gone. She remembered how much she didn’t like Mr. Rittevon, despite his handsome features.

The first time she saw him was just a few months ago, but it seemed like she’d been in his company for much longer. He had arrived with Eric, hadn’t he?

She was suddenly snapped from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind her. Quickly, she turned around to face an approaching Mr. Zurich, who was now dressed and very much awake.

“Good morning, Herr Zurich, sir,� she said quickly with a little bow, “Your guests are waiting for you.�

“Thank you Elsa, you are dismissed,� Mr. Zurich said in reply, sounding a little tired. As she started to walk away, he held up his hand for her to stop.

“Yes, one more thing,� he said quietly, as she turned around to face him. “If I were you, I’d cut out this eavesdropping habit as quick as you can,� he said, with a grim, knowing smile. “Nothing good ever comes of it. Trust me.�

Elsa bowed, embarrassed. “Yes, sir,� she said quietly, and took her leave.

Mr. Zurich watched her leave, then turned around and opened the door to the parlor.

“Good morning, Herr Zurich,� greeted a dark-haired woman who stood up quickly as he entered. “We have exciting news.� A briefcase dangled from her wrist as she stood, the handle un-held.

“A bit early to come calling on a Saturday morning, isn’t it?� Mr. Zurich asked, sitting down on a couch opposite the woman.

Beside him, Mr. Rittevon grumbled something unintelligible that Mr. Zurich did not pursue. Across from him, the woman lifted her briefcase onto the coffee table between them, and the brunet man next to her unlocked the handcuffs.

“We ran tests for Eon10, and I have the results here,� the woman said, flipping the wheels of the locks until they reached the correct number combination.

“Is that a Halliburton briefcase?� Mr. Rittevon asked casually. The woman looked up at him for a second, then turned her attention back to the locks.

“Yes, it is,� she replied, popping open the latches and lifting the lid. Mr. Rittevon tried to peek over the edge of the briefcase as the woman reached in and grabbed a neat pile of papers.

She handed them to Mr. Zurich, who read quickly through a few of them, trying to ignore Mr. Rittevon peeking over his shoulder.

“That’s very good, yes,� Mr. Zurich commented, shuffling through the papers until he reached some covered in pictures. Pictures taken behind protection of thick glass, pictures of people covered in blood, teeth shattered and abdomens slashed open, bones revealed within torn, gutted muscles.

Mr. Zurich quickly shuffled past them, to pictures of magnified life, busted cells and viral forms.

“It’s beautiful,� Mr. Rittevon whispered suddenly, and Mr. Zurich jumped a little, but recovered his composure quickly.

“Very well done, Elena,� Mr. Zurich said, putting the papers face down on the table, “That will do.�

He stood up, and glanced at a picture of a blond-haired Jesus on the wall opposite him. The sad blue eyes of God’s lamb seemed to look straight at him, seemed to plead with his conscience.

He closed his eyes for a second, and turned away.

“Put the bio-reactors at full production, prepare for deployment in eight months.� Elena nodded, and put the papers back into the briefcase, with a sly look over to Mr. Rittevon, who returned it with a shameless lick of his top lip.

“At once, Herr Zurich,� she replied, with a venomous smile, “I look forward to it.� With a hasty smile, Mr. Zurich motioned for Mr. Rittevon to follow him into the adjacent room.

“What?� snapped Mr. Rittevon after his associate closed the door behind him. Mr. Zurich bit his bottom lip nervously, and turned away.

“I forgot to tell you,� Mr. Zurich said, “Bill Hastings called last night, while you were out.�

“Really,� Mr. Rittevon responded flatly, wishing he had some sort of alcoholic drink to stir.

“Yeah,� Mr. Zurich said, trailing off a little. “Listen, he… he’s backing out. He doesn’t want anything to do with you since the investigation last summer, he’d hoped you’d understand. He just wants- �

“He doesn’t know what he wants!� Mr. Rittevon yelled, wishing he had some sort of alcoholic drink to smash on the floor. “I’m tired of his bullshit anyways!� Mr. Zurich stepped back, upset by his associate’s reaction.

“Victor,� Mr. Zurich said quietly, and Mr. Rittevon turned around, a strange expression on his face. “Without Hastings’s support, I can’t run Sylex much longer… the reactors, and the crew, I just… I just can’t.�

“What are you saying?� Mr. Rittevon asked quietly, and Mr. Zurich looked away.

“I need you to go talk to him for me, get him back,� Mr. Zurich grabbed Mr. Rittevon by the sleeve desperately as he tried to turn away. “Please, Victor. I need this. I’ll even come with you, after I make a few calls-�

“I’ll do it,� Mr. Rittevon said resignedly, “Later.�

“Victor-�

“No, Erwin, don’t worry. I’ll get it done. Listen, I’m going to stop by and see my daughter for a while,� Mr. Rittevon interrupted. “Tell Elena to call me,� he said, and Mr. Zurich could hear the smile in his voice.

Mr. Rittevon touched a reassuring hand to Mr. Zurich’s shoulder before sweeping out of the
room. Mr. Zurich sighed.

“Please, Lord,� Mr. Zurich whispered, “Help me lead that man to your graces.�

As Mr. Rittevon walked down the hall to the front door, his shoes made soft clicking sounds on the marble floors. No, that wasn’t right. His shoes didn’t make noise, he’d made sure of that. Before he could look, Elena came from behind him and stepped in front, blocking his way.

“Where are you going so quickly?� she purred, wrapping a hand around his necktie and pulling him closer.

Her high-heeled white leather boots matched her lab coat and manicure perfectly, Mr. Rittevon noticed. He moved his eyes up her body, to her sultry hazel eyes that pierced his own blue ones.

“I loved your work with Eon10,� Mr. Rittevon whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“Oh, you’re not interested in that,� Elena laughed, unbuttoning his coat with her free hand. Suddenly, something in Mr. Rittevon’s mind snapped and he was out of patience.

“Move,� he snapped, pushing her aside and straightening his tie. “I have business to attend to.�

Hand on a hip, Elena watched the man she had set her sights on walk away from her without a look back. Irritated beyond words, she whipped around and headed back to her crew, heels clicking on the stone.

“Good morning, Herr Rittevon. Where to?� asked a sharply dressed young man, who opened a door to an elegant black car.

“Good morning, Peter. Take me to Felicity’s place,� Mr. Rittevon replied, getting in. “You’ve been there before, haven’t you?�

“Yes, sir.�

As they drove, Mr. Rittevon stared lazily out the window at the dreary city. He’d made sure the gun was loaded and packed as soon as he woke up, had a feeling he’d need it. He hadn’t spoken to his daughter for the better part of a year, it would be nice to stop in and see how she was doing.

Suddenly, he was taken from his thoughts as the car jerked to a stop, brakes squealing.

A mother and two children barely missed by Mr. Zurich’s elegant car, the high-pitched cry of a child frightened.

Without warning, a memory that Mr. Rittevon had professional help to repress came slamming forward into the present, blinding him with it’s anguish. He cried out.

A small boy of around ten approached the street, holding the hands of his mother and sister, Rubia. He had anticipated this morning and his birthday trip to the candy shop for a whole week, an eternity in a child’s eyes.

“Ready to cross, Victor?� said a kind voice that the boy knew as belonging to his mother. “Hold on to my hand.�

“Yes, mum,� he replied cheerfully, squeezing her hand.

As Rubia and his mother stepped forward, something glittery caught the attention of his bright blue eyes, and he lagged. Oh, just a bottle-cap. He felt a tug on his arms and turned back around to face the expectant faces.

“Sorry mum, I- �

He was interrupted by a rush of sound, and he watched in horror as a ten-ton truck smashed into the only two people he had ever really loved, they jerked from his hands and disappeared from his sight in a cloud of blood.

He screamed, tears mingling with the blood on his face, in his mouth-

“Herr Rittevon, sir!� shouted Peter, snapping him to the present.

In a flash, Mr. Rittevon thrust his hand into the chauffeur’s neck, pinning him to the seat. Peter tried to scream, but couldn’t, the force exerted against his neck restricted his airway so.

The air weighed heavily with energy, it almost seemed dense enough to mark with movement. In the few seconds before Peter would suffocate, Mr. Rittevon removed his hand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,� Mr. Rittevon lied in a whisper, taking his hand and running it through the other man’s hair, smoothing it out. “Please excuse me.�

“Of course, sir,� Peter stammered, severely unsettled. Mr. Rittevon gently straightened his tie, and frowned.

“Oh… I’m so sorry,� he repeated falsely, touching his fingers to the neck of the chauffeur, who flinched, with a gasp. “I’ve bruised you.�

The skin area was purple and red, with black areas. “Oh, yes. You’re definitely going to want to put some ice on that…�

Ten minutes later, the elegant car pulled into the parking garage of a condominium.

“I hate New York,� Mr. Rittevon snarled, opening the door when it came to a stop.

Peter was relieved when his employer’s associate got out of the car, taking the oppressive energy with him. He leaned back against the head-rest, taking a shaky breath. The car rocked a little when Mr. Rittevon slammed the door, and Peter got out his cell-phone, to call 911.

As Mr. Rittevon walked across the parking garage, the gears of his mind clicked and mused. It had been a long while since he had spoken to his daughter, Felicity. Did it matter? He didn’t think so, this would be over soon anyways. It was for her own good, right? Of course.

He pulled open a heavy door and walked down a hallway to the lobby.

“Good morning, sir,� greeted a lady at the front desk. “Who are you visiting today?� Mr. Rittevon glanced over at the resident list on the far wall, with their numbers.

“George… uh, Pontieus,� he read, “A good client of mine. I won’t be long.�

“Oh, good. He just got back in from breakfast,� she told him, “You’re here just in time.�

With another false smile, Mr. Rittevon thanked her and continued on his way, to the elevator. He pushed his finger into the up button, and waited patiently for the doors to open.

As he stepped in, he felt the well known feeling of immense calm settle over him. His thoughts, his actions, everything ran smoothly, everything went right. He was in his element.

He let himself smile, slowly and thinly, as the elevator started it’s quick ascent. Energy seemed to pull in towards him, making the air dense. The room seemed to be darker, but Mr. Rittevon didn’t notice.

The overhead light flickered for a second, and the elevator stopped and opened it’s doors. When the doors opened, his smooth intuition told him to head right, down the hallway.

He had forgotten the room number, but he knew he’d find it. 210, 212, 214… there He knocked on the door. Not too loud, but in a way that he knew would demand immediate attention from the resident.

Felicity Rittevon sat up, suddenly awake. Was someone at the door? With a heavy sigh, she brushed her dark hair out of her eyes, got to her feet and in an awkward walk due to her swollen abdomen, went to the door. She supported her belly with one hand, and opened the door with the other.

“Dad?� she said, disbelieving. “What are you doing here?� As Mr. Rittevon stepped forward, he caught sight of her pregnancy.

“You… you’re… I- � he stammered, and she laughed.

“It’s a boy. I’m naming him after you,� she said softly. “You didn’t know?� she asked, surprised. “I called your friend, and he said he’d tell you. Erwin, right? The one you’re living with?�

“I’m not living with him,� Mr. Rittevon snapped. “I’m just… don’t say it like that.� Felicity laughed again and moved to the side, so he could walk by.

“I’m just staying with him until I get back on my feet, is all,� Mr. Rittevon explained, looking away. “You read the papers, you know what happened.� He watched as she took a seat on a couch, with a deep sigh.

“Whatever, Dad,� she said, with a gasp as the baby kicked the underside of her ribs particularly violently. “What are you doing here?�

“Where’s that worthless boyfriend of yours?� he replied, ignoring her question.

“Fiancé, now,� Felicity answered, holding her hand out so Mr. Rittevon could see the ring on her finger, “He’s at the supermarket, picking up more milk. I’d love for you to stay until he gets back, you two need to get more acquainted. We’re getting married next year.�

“Oh, I’m afraid you- I won’t be able to stay that long,� Mr. Rittevon said quietly. “Business, you know.�

She let out a deep sigh, holding back the words she felt like saying. Instead, “Take a seat.�

“No, no,� he replied, shaking his head a little. “I mustn’t stay long. You don’t remember the death of your brother, do you?�

Felicity frowned, and shook her head. Before she could ask anything, her father spoke again.

“No, you weren’t born yet. Of course you wouldn’t remember.� But, he did. He smiled a little as the memory flooded into the present.