The Next Generation | 18+

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔.

"Oww," I groaned as the bright lights in the room shined down on me.

My eyes adjusted to the light quickly as I took in my surroundings. There was a table in the middle of the room filled with vials on it and a syringe.

"I'm pretty sure drugging minors is grounds for calling CPS," I say as I stretched my arms over my head, grabbing the hair tie that rested on my wrist and pulling my hair into a bun.

"Okay smartass." My dad's voice filled the room as he spoke into the intercom speaker. I looked at the glass mirror through my lashes, a small tilt on my lips as I waited for further instruction.

"You have an hour to mix together a drug of your choice." So I was getting tested on one of my strengths.

This would be fun.

"How fun! Do I get a test dummy?" I questioned, a hopeful tinge in my tone.

"Yes, you psycho." I could hear the laughter in my fathers tone before he clicked off of the intercom.

A monotone voice began the countdown as I pulled the white lab coat over my arms.

"An hour Maverick," he repeated as I snapped the goggles over my eyes.

I checked the labels of the chemicals on the table, spotting the two that I needed, I carefully used a beaker to measure out the correct measurement.

I enjoyed a few things in life.

Coming in at the top of list of things that I enjoyed were, math, eating Violeta out, chemistry, fucking Violeta, killing people...

And did I mention eating Violeta out?

But when I got to mix chemistry and killing people together — it was one of the best feelings in the world. That feeling came a close second to when I orgasmed during sex with Violeta.

I added in the next few chemicals, measuring them and mixing them as I went.

I had grown a sudden interest in chemistry at a young age, eventually, my father brought me a chemistry set for Christmas. After hours of looking at mixtures, I accidentally created a deadly chemical.

We'd only figured out that it was deadly after I tested it out on one of my sister's stuffed animals and it burned right through the fur.

Ever since then I had grown obsessed with creating more— call me a mad chemist.

I used a pipette to top off the chemical mixture, I picked up the syringe and pulled the ending of the syringe as the side door opened.

I filled the syringe as much as possible before flicking it upward and tapping the sides.

Two men rolled a conscious man strapped into a chair inside of the room. He was struggling against the ropes tied around him, not being cooperative in the slightest.