Cruel & Blue (Eyeless Jack story)

Chapter 35

*HELLO, EVERYONE! WELCOME TO ANOTHER CHAPTER. THERE ARE NO ANNOUNCEMENTS THAT I HAVE TO MAKE SO HERE ARE YOUR QUESTIONS!

QUESTIONS!!:
-How would you deal with life knowing you're a proxy? (I'd be pretty freaked out man, like, shit, I don't wanna die.)
-If your life could be an anime, which one would it be? (Free Iwatobi (≖◞౪◟≖). It has muscles and no one dies! Well, except for Rin's dad. •-•)*

Stay Creepy, My Friends!~

Chapter 35

A store came into view and I raced towards the entrance. Despite entering, I did not put my hood down even as the stores scent and the calm people around me signaled no danger whatsoever. I looked at the signs to find the women's clothing area. Once I found the right direction, I made my way through other areas and walkways. The store was quiet but it wasn't unsettling. Occasionally a baby would squeal with delight but otherwise things were okay.

Upon walking to the women's section, I passed by the electronics. Flat screens tempting with high quality, laptops lay sleek and clean, phones awaited to be bought and tablets were streaked from curious usage. As I was passing, I spotted one of the TVs presenting a news program. I smiled at the sight of the TIRACorp logo, along with a team of scientists. My father was in the shot, along with his close colleague Dr. Stephens. I couldn't help myself but to walk up to the TVs and watch the one with my father on it, intently. The volume was low but it talked about the work he's been studying for years and the benefits it will have on the world. One of the greatest projects that the news seemed to be so fond of was the "Blood Steel" program. As I caught a few words of explanation, I remembered what it was. Dr. Stephen's intern, Ian Harris, had talked to me about it while taking me on a tour. It had something to do with a serum modifying the blood to repair wounds and even boost stamina in the user. It's still a work in progress but it seems to be getting a lot of support. Maybe one day we'll have soldiers out on the battlefield with this serum. At the rate the world is going, it seems that wars keep spawning. With the end of a war, a new one begins. If my father and his team are successful, things can get better. They'll be able to make history in the field of genetics along with the history of mankind itself.

"Good job, ChiChi," I whispered happily, while fist pumping the air privately. My celebration was soon interrupted as breaking news scrolled across the screen. To my surprise, all of the TVs bore the same breaking news. It was the local news channel's broadcast. I watched as a news anchor showed up on the screen, looking deadly serious. I wondered what could've happened.

"Excuse this interruption," the news anchor said, "There has just been word of a public disturbance in uptown Gracewood. At approximately three o'clock this afternoon, a patient admitted into the Gracewood Hospital and Psychiatric Center had gone on a rampage. Witnesses at the site reported seeing the patient attack two nurses and three doctors -who fortunately survived the attack- before jumping out of a window on the fourth floor. He was not found outside of the hospital and no signs of death on impact were found. Law enforcement was called to the scene but they could not find the patient anywhere within the vicinity. The police believe that the patient is still within Gracewood. All citizens must take caution as medical reports have stated that the man was recently attacked by a wild animal and a severe sickness was spread to him. Doctors declare it may be a newly mutated strain of rabies or a new virus altogether. Citizens keep within your homes or commute somewhere within a populated and safe area. If anyone spots this man, please contact the police and do not engage him, I repeat, do not engage him."

The news anchor was replaced by a sketch image of this danger-labeled hospital patient. My eyes widened and my blood ran cold at the sight. He looked like something out of an H.P. Lovecraft tale. I don't think I could correctly call him a he, but more like an it. The eyes looked swollen, almost closed. One of the arms looked bumpier than the other and more twisted. The patient hunched over and the stance looked painful. A lot of black ooze dribbled down the mouth like the saliva of a hungry dog. There were a few distorted holes in the patient's other arm which triggered a hidden trypophobia in me. I wanted to turn away and grimace, hoping to forget the image in my head. Usually sketch artist renderings aren't all specific so the thought of this thing being more disturbing than the picture before me sent chills throughout my body. But it isn't a thing, it's a man. A human being.