Seven

Wednesday

Seven sat alone in an isolated cell in the police station. Three out of four walls were made of concrete, while the last was barred all the way across with a door to match. A small uncomfortable cot was pushed up against the farthest right corner, on it sat a thin gray sheet, a pillow with barely any stuffing in it, and Seven herself. Across from her was a metal toilet, which she refused to use, and a matching sink.

She was locked up in a highly monitored cell that had two guards patrolling at the entrance. The hallway was cut off from the rest of the building and the main exit. Every now and again an officer would stroll by letting a baton clank against the bars. Seven wasn't frightened of them, she'd dodged a bullet and jumped from a building within the last couple of days. What's the worst that could happen?

Seven knew it was morning, but there no windows for her to confirm it. She wondered if an innocent person would go insane in these cells.

She stared down at her hands in her lap. She was wondering, or calculating, how hard she needed to punch the wall for it to crumble. The officers slow footsteps trailed down the hall, it was his hourly check, but Seven noticed a second pair of footsteps, a quicker pair, that were following up behind. She was getting a visitor.

The officers hand smacked up against the metal bar, making a clink sound, he was probably wearing a ring. Keys jingled in his other hand as he unlocked the door and opened it for someone to walk in. A small man looked around the corner and then stepped in. Seven just glared at him and didn't stand from the cot. He was much older than her, he had strange gray hairs that spread out thinly over his head. His large circular glasses made his eyes look larger than they actually were. From miles away, you would be able to feel his gray, crazy looking eyes on you.

“He-Hello.” he said nervously. A line of sweat was dripping down his temple. After she didn't reply, he continued. “I-I'm Paul, yes, the forensic scientist.” he said this as if he was confirming with himself that he was, in fact, a forensic scientist and his name was Paul. “I examined the bodies.” Seven knew he was referring to the corpses that she left behind. “I'm very ah-accustomed to your work.” Paul took a step towards her, but she stood up instantly to warn him not to come closer. “Right, yes, sorry.” Paul mumbled and stepped back, she didn't sit back down on the cot. He looked behind him and cleared his throat before continuing in a whisper, “I want to show you my lab.” Seven nodded once, trusting it not to turn out like the incident with Melton Shell a few years ago.

* * * *

Luckily, the paramedics were able to lift the heavy desk off of the victim the evening before and take him down to Paul's office where he could evaluate him. The desk was placed in the farthest corner of the room, by the window which was smashed. Where the desk sat before it was ripped notoriously from it's bolts was the bloodstains from the victims arm. There was also a squished thing among the blood. Valery had to kneel down to look at it. From examining it with his eyes, he knew that it was a white jell, of sorts. It had red nerves still attached to it, which suggested it was from the man's body. Valery thought it might have been part of his muscle.

He put a pair of plastic gloves on and touched the white jell first. It was stringy, but stayed in tact. Valery looked up at his partner. “Cho, what do you think this is?” Cho walked over and looked over Valery's shoulder.

“Either it's some sort of translucent hair gel,” he started sarcastically, “or it's the victims eye.” Valery quickly pulled his gloves hand away from the squished eye ball.

“That is utterly disgusting.”

“Let me take a sample of it back to Paul, we might finally know what she's doing with the eye balls.”