Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 9

sometimes it was less painful. One of the white coats was giving him a repressor, giving him relief from the injection that would follow. That was why some injections were easier to bear. This one man, in a white coat, the one whose scent reminded Sin of something familiar, something his mind couldn't quite grab, was trying to help him.
    And now Sin had a name to go with the scent.
    Rhys.
    ****
    Through the constant swirl of injections and swirling thought processes, over the next however-long, Sin waited for Rhys to come back in to his room. He smelled him first.
    It was the one comfort he had, this Rhys. His one hope.
    When the scent was strongest, when Sin knew Rhys was close, he spoke.
    "Hurts."
    Rhys gasped.
    Sin said it again. "Hurts."
    Rhys' voice was strained. "I know. I'm sorry."
    Sin tried to look up at Rhys, but his head was heavy, his neck was sore. He hurt all over. And his head fell back, his eyes closed. He tried talking again, but Rhys stopped him.
    "Sshh," he hushed him. "Von's coming."
    Not a few seconds later, Von came into the room. "How's my favorite patient?"
    "Patient?" Rhys asked. He almost laughed.
    "Well," Von mused, "my favorite subject."
    Subject . Rhys bit down his anger. "His body is too strained. The restraints have extended his muscles for too long, the room is too cold..."
    "The room is cold to make him docile," Von snapped back at him. "Are you questioning my methods?"
    "No," Rhys amended quickly, not wanting Von to grow suspicious. "I just thought if you released the restraints for periods during the night and allowed his body to rest, you might see better results."
    It was a lie. Rhys just wanted some relief for Sin. Von seemed to contemplate this notion, but then he smiled a sinister smile. "No. I can't risk this one changing form and escaping. He's too valuable. Treatment is to stay the same. In fact, you can increase the DNA exchange into 7258."
    Von turned on his heel and walked out. Rhys' shoulders fell as he sighed. He may have just saved Sin from further torture, only to have it inflicted on another creature. Other subjects , with only numbers like 7258, were being injected with DNA from Sin to see if other shape-shifters would emulsify any of the possible shapes Sin could shift to. Von was also conducting his own brand of in vitro fertilization. He would have incubators— other female beings— impregnated with embryos.
    Von was trying to clone Sin.
    The host mothers—imprisoned shape-shifters—would die excruciating deaths. Their bodies were incompatible with the foreign DNA, rejecting the intrusion. It wasn't this procedure alone that killed them, but the unproven trials to inject the host with splintered chromosomes and hormones from Sin. It was Von's demented theory that the injected genetic matter would infuse with the host's, therefore making the pregnancies viable, giving him a Dychiiop breeding program. Of course the only thing this accomplished was to inflict unfathomable pain on the female hosts. Their blood warred with itself within their bodies, until the internal organs melted.
    The man was fucking insane.
    In all of Rhys' years hunting down scum like Von, he'd never encountered a facility like this. Or such a madman at the helm.
    When Rhys was sure Von had gone, and he was alone with Sin, he leaned in close, still careful not to touch him, and whispered, "I'm going to get you out of here. But you'll need to trust me. It will get worse before it gets better."
    CHAPTER 3
    Von was growing impatient. He had a Dychiiop in his lab but was seeing no results. He'd transferred DNA before—not always successfully, he conceded, but transferred all the same.
    Not all subjects survived. In fact, few did.
    But they weren't his concern. Sin was. He almost felt bad that the creature had to suffer.
    Almost.
    But this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. To have a Dychiiop and not try to unravel its secrets was beyond comprehension for Von. He was many things, but foolish wasn't one of them. He would learn the secrets encrypted in Sin's genetic coding if it was the last thing he did.
    Having Sin in his grasp was like holding that elusive thing they described in those ancient scrolls… Von tapped his chin, unable to remember what they'd called it.
    And then it hit him. "Holy Grail."
    Rhys looked up from the clipboard in his hand. "Pardon?"
    "The Holy Grail," Von repeated. "Sin is my Holy Grail."
    Rhys looked at Von, confused. "I'm afraid I don't know what that means."
    Von