“Is it ready?” a cold voice echoed through the halls of the hospital.
“Almost,” a small man shuttered in response. He could hear the cold voice’s footstep walk down the corridor, approaching his lab.
A chill ran down the doctor’s spine causing his skin to freeze and his muscles to tense.
“I wasn’t expecting you until next month, sir,” he said to the phantom man approaching.
“The schedule has changed. The others want human testing to begin immediately.”
The voice had reached the doorway and the doctor knew he was being watched.
He pulled his head away from the microscope lens and turned around in his chair. The room was dimly lit by the blue glow of medical research equipment. Tables ran all around the large room. Vials of chemicals littered the tops of the tables, along with papers of equations and diagrams. Directly across from the doctor’s gaze was the doorway and inside the doorway stood a dark figure. His lower half was slightly visible; black dress shoes and pants, reflecting blue light, was what the voice came from.
“Sir…” the doctor began fearfully, “I haven’t perfected the formula. I’m not sure if it will work.”
“It has to, Dawson,” the voice replied. “The boy’s life depends on it.”
“If I could see him, I might be able to see what his symptoms are and then I’ll know what I need to include in order to-“
“You made the disease. You should know how to cure it,” the voice interrupted with a threatening tone.
“How far along is he?” Dawson asked.
“The pain has stopped.”
“Then he might be too far along.”
A feminine chuckle emerged from the blackness.
Standing on the right side of the room, adjacent to their conversation, Dawson and the icy voice turned to see a woman standing by a mound of files.
“Asha? When did you-“ the man in the doorway had begun.
“If he is too far along and your cure doesn’t work, it will be your fault for taking too long. We test the formula tonight and if the boy doesn’t heal…”
The woman emerged from the darkness. She was tall, with dark hair and light brown skin. The shadows of the room still concealed her eyes.
“The next patient,” she continued, “will be you, Dr. Krane. That should motivate you to perfect the cure.”