PSYCHOSAPIEN

11

Dr Paul Weller was a rock star. The father of modern genetics. A world-renowned genius. Author of over ten books and a hundred articles. Hell, he'd even appeared on an episode of Dr Phil!

Chuck couldn't believe he'd been kidnapped by Dr Paul Weller.

It was like being kidnapped by Mick Jagger!

"Where's my asset?" Dr Weller's voice was firm. A stern parent scolding an unruly child.

Chuck frowned. Confused.

"Asset? You mean the creature?"

"Yes, yes. Whatever you want to call it." Dr Weller waved a dismissive hand through the air. "I want to know where it is. And you're going to tell me."

"I don't know where it is. Why would I know where it is?"

Dr Weller slapped Chuck hard across the face. Chuck blinked, tears springing instantly into his eyes.

"Ow! What did you do that for?"

"Stop playing dumb, you little shit!" His Ice-blue eyes blazed, wild with fury. "Tell me where my asset is! Now!"

"I don't know! I swear!"

Dr Weller grabbed a fistful of Chuck's shirt. Shoved his face right up close to Chuck's. Chuck could smell his cologne. Leather and sandalwood, with undertones of cherry and cinnamon.

"How about I kick your fucking teeth in, huh?" He slapped Chuck again. A huge whack across the right cheek. "How about I rip your skin off and wear it like a fucking banana peel?"

"Why would you wear a banana peel?"

"Shut your shit, smart guy!"

"Shut my shit?"

Dr Weller let go of Chuck's shirt with a disgusted shove. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. When he was sufficiently composed, he ran a thoughtful finger along his craggy, chiseled jaw.

"I know what your game is, young man." He let out a soft, menacing chuckle. "You want to claim the glory for yourself, don't you?"

Chuck was confused again.

"Glory? What glory?"

Dr Weller gestured around at the room. "Where do you think you are right now?"

Chuck looked around. Blank brick walls. A smooth stone floor. A single door, closed and locked.

"This is Weller Genetics?"

"Yes. This is my laboratory."

"This is where you made the creature?"

"The asset. Correct."

"But what does that have to do with me?"

"Come on. You can't honestly be that stupid."

"Hey! I may be stupid, but I'm not... what was the other thing you said?"

"I just said stupid."

"Oh."

Dr Weller sighed. He lifted his right leg and placed his foot on Chuck's chair. Right in front of Chuck's crotch.

"Listen, kid. You gotta wake up and smell the salsa. How do you think I was able to engineer this miraculous scientific feat?"

Chuck stared at Dr Weller. The mad scientist. His hero.

Then the penny dropped.

"You used my research."

Dr Weller grinned.

"That's right, Chip. Combining the DNA of multiple species to create a brand-new life form has been my singular focus for the better part of a decade. My obsession, if you will."