Legatus505

 Interim 9: The Case of The Psychic - Operation Starfall (Content warning: gore, violence, body horror)      The Wolf stood still and silent as he looked over the scene. The room had once been pure white, clean to the point of sterility. That's what his report assured him, yet not a single speck of white remained. There were even warnings that entering the lab may make him feel a little light headed due to the use of various chemicals, some for cleaning, others to control the beasts spawned from such a place. The only scent assaulting his nostrils as the wolf took a step into the room was a familiar one, and it didn't leave him feeling light headed at all.       His pulse quickened, eyes narrowing as he followed a single drop of red through the air. Muscles in the back of his neck twitched slightly, as he reached up and allowed the crimson bead to come to a rest in his palm. A deep inhale filled his lungs with air and mind with the thrill of the h...

 Interim 8: A Fleeting Dream      The door swings inwards, letting out a shrill shriek in protest. The hinges hadn't seen oil in years, but they still did their job with only a little complaint. The padlock that had held the door shut was easy enough to snap off. It was a cheap piece of junk, more for show than actual security. I shuffle in, closing the door behind me and jamming the handle with the plastic wet floor sign I stole from just outside. Every sound echoes in the small room, along with my pained groans from the simplest movements.     Another piece of junk that needed better maintenance.     Thankfully, the interior had been better maintained. Two urinals, one toilet behind a wooden stall, and two sinks took up the majority of the space in the bathroom.      The train station closest to Noctyx house never closed, but I'd barely missed the last train before arriving. At first I had killed time outside, shivering in the sno...

 Chapter 8: The Corpse of Flesh (Content Warnings: Graphic gore, child bullying, sexual themes.)     Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children. As a child, I discovered very quickly that God could be fickle, negligent and outright cruel.     A rare combination of genes made me a miracle baby. That miracle made my very existence feel like a curse. At that point it wasn't mother or any god that took pity on me. Both completed their job of unleashing me upon The Republic and took their leave without a second thought.      Perhaps those that created me could see, even back then, that I wasn't a creature that deserved life at all. Had they put me out of my misery early, perhaps this curse would have never been allowed to afflict so many. Never stolen that same gift of life from so many other more deserving recipients.      Later in life I was recreated by the hands of a new maker. Not a mother, nor a god, but a...