Page 2 of Desecrated Saints

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Page 2 of Desecrated Saints

No, not someone. An animal.

Whatever remains of a person when you strip the humanity away.

“Doctor Farlow. Fancy seeing you down here, son.”

Jumping out of my skin, I turn to find Professor Lazlo lingering in the doorway. With his arms crossed and wire-framed spectacles hanging around his neck, he grins at me.

“Finally opened your eyes, did you?”

“What is this place? Where is Lucia?” I demand.

“No need to raise your voice. We’re both professionals, are we not?”

Gesturing around the chamber, I laugh. “You call this professional? Where is my patient?”

“Lucia is my patient, Jude.”

“I have the right to enquire about her welfare!”

Lazlo sighs. “Fine. You want to see Lucia? Be my guest.”

Turning on his heel, he stalks off down the murky corridor. I follow, shivering from the sub-zero temperature and something far worse—real, tangible fear. I suspected foul play, but nothing like this. I’m out of my depth.

Lazlo pauses outside the final locked door, rust-spotted and made from thick, impenetrable metal. Retrieving a black swipe card, he waves it over the hidden scanner and the squeal of old hinges fills my ears.

In those brief seconds before the interior is revealed, I consider running. Actually running. But it’s no use, as two of his personal guards have joined us and now box me in on both sides. My unease triples.

“Five? You have a visitor,” Lazlo singsongs.

Choking on my panic, I glance into the damp cell. An old-style cot rests in the corner, boasting a familiar bag of bones, strapped down with heavy restraints. Blinking at me with no recognition, Lucia’s mouth opens and shuts without a word.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“As you can see, she is acutely unwell and must remain here.”

“What on earth are you doing to her?”

Lazlo chuckles behind me. “Reconditioning.”

Before I can defend myself, sharp pain blooms in the back of my head. I fall to my knees, my vision blurring. I’m surrounded by brutes with tasers. I scream at the electrical current, jerking and thrashing until the torture ceases.

“You should have stayed upstairs,” Lazlo says simply.

“You w-won’t… get a-away… with this!”

Peering down at me with his spectacles replaced, his dead orbs of sick human curiosity scare the living daylights out of me. Lazlo smirks, taking in my still-twitching form, before turning to his two guards.

“Call Augustus on the private line. Tell him to come and collect; I have two new acquisitions. Bring the sedatives too. Let’s prep them.”

Sparing me a final glance, Lazlo shakes his head.

“You’ll wish you never stepped foot in Blackwood Institute.”

CHAPTER 1

BROOKLYN

DIED ENOUGH FOR YOU - BLIND CHANNEL




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