It had started as an experiment. Rowan had been looking for a cure for death. He'd found it, but the cure came with a price--an insatiable thirst for blood. It also only worked on children, turning them from the angelic creatures their parents believed them to be, into life sucking monsters. So he decided to scrap the project and start over again. The only problem was, his lab rats weren't cooperating. He'd managed to destroy all of them, except for these last few. They were different than the others ... Stronger, healing from every attempt on their lives.
Rowan glared at the children. There were 4 of them--dirty, snotty noses--and yet they stared back at him, defiant. They weren't afraid. He hated kids. Worse, he hated kids who wouldn't die.
Quaid's voice trembled, "Again?"
"As many times as it takes until you get it right."
"But boss ..." Quaid's voice trailed off as Rowan turned away from the cage and looked at him.
"Or I could let them eat you."
Quaid swallowed. "Sure boss, but do I have to go in there with them?" He eyeballed Ed. Ed was the last man Rowan had ordered to kill these kids. Now Ed lay in the corner of the cage, dead ... Or mostly dead. Quaid thoughtfully pondered the slight quiver that indicated Ed's shallow breath. He reminded himself that the experiment hadn't ever brought back a single adult.
"I don't see how you're going to do it from here, unless you can kill them with your mind."
Quaid was pretty sure he couldn't kill these devil kids at all, after all, wasn't that the point of the experiment in the first place? He wasn't going to argue with Rowan though. Unlike these children, he was afraid of his boss. He was also afraid of these children. Both were sure to kill him, but with Rowan, death was sure to be permanent. With the children ...
Inside the cage, Ed's hand moved. It was barely noticable. Quaid would have missed it if he hadn't been watching. Rowan didn't even notice. He supposed if these kids got him, he would die too. Maybe. Ed's fingers clenched into a fist.
Quaid didn't like blood, a strange affliction for a hit man. He'd always killed by strangling his victims. He supposed if there was a chance he could live through this, somehow, he could get used to blood. At least he could still be with Charlene. Of course she might not like being married to a walking corpse.
'Undead,' Quaid reminded himself, 'the term is undead.'
A small moan from the direction of Ed. Quaid needed to act quickly before Rowan finally noticed. He was afraid of Rowan, but he also hated him. He hated that he was afraid of him, he hated that he knew Charlene was banging Rowan behind his back, and he hated that he didn't have the courage to confront him. Now, maybe there was a chance for some payback.
Making up his mind, Quaid stepped toward the cage and swung the door wide open.