To be a monster or to be a human.
Is there a difference?
…
"Then, my question is-" Nicholas pulled something from his pocket, an object covered with foam sheets.
The Mind visibly stiffened.
"Where did you get that?"
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. "I'm the one who gets to ask a question."
The Mind did not react to the vigilante's tone.
"Tell me everything you know about this." His words were sharp, not a question but a command.
He removed the foam, revealing a small vial filled with black liquid. Holding it up toward the Mind, Nicholas repeated, "I want to know everything you do about this."
The Mind sighed. "That isn't really a proper question, but… alright."
Nicholas took a steadying breath, bracing himself for whatever story hid behind that vial and the reason its influence seemed to reach everywhere.
"The contents of that vial," the Mind began, "are not to be misused. In fact, it would be better if they were never used at all."
"Why?" Nicholas asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It changes people." The Mind immediately replied. "It's been described as a sort of enhancement drug. Capable of transforming the strength of ordinary people equal to that of supers, if not more."
"And yet, everyone who's had it seems hesitant to use it."
"Hah… those who hesitate likely know what happens if you take too much."
"'Too much?'" Nicholas quoted. "How much is too much?"
"More than a single drop. It's preferred to take even less than that of a drop."
"Less than even a drop?"
"Mhm. Should you take more, it will irreversibly change you." His voice grew grim.
"You mentioned 'change' again. What do you mean by that?"
The Mind fell silent for a few seconds, then asked with a weight in his tone, "Have you encountered any strange… creature of sorts? In that place of mine, I mean."
"...Yes."
"That is the change."
"I-... I don't follow. You're saying that thing… was once a human?" Nicholas could not believe what he was hearing. The thing had indeed spoken and exhibited human-like traits.
But to think it actually used to be human…
"Still is," the Mind said quietly. "Just… different."
"That-"
"I would honestly say those are the 'lucky' ones… Make no mistake, all of their fates are horrible."
"..?"
"The ones who don't change suffer in other ways. The drug is meant to provide a temporary boost, but when the effects linger, it starts altering the mind."
"And that's somehow worse?"
"You haven't heard the worst of it," the Mind continued. "Their mentality shifts until they become like addicts. They crave more of the drug, no matter what, or who, they have to sacrifice to get it."
"And what happens if they don't get it?"
"You catch on quickly." The Mind's tone darkened. "Those who can't get it go mad. Some take their own lives. Others, though rarely, somehow 'force' the change to occur through unknown means. Their fates are the same, but far more torturous than those who change outright." He looked toward the rising sun.
"...Are there any who recovered from that madness?" Nicholas asked. "Ones who didn't die?"
"No. They all die in the end. Some survive physically, yes, but they're hollow. Empty shells of their former selves."
"But they're still alive, right?"
The Mind turned to him, voice rough and tired. "They change so completely you can't even see them as the same person. That new personality isn't alive—it just performs the motions it needs to survive. A mindless slave with no master. Not a single trait of their former selves is present. How is that any different from death?"
Nicholas exhaled. "Since you seem so against this drug…"
"'Black Blood,' they call it."
"Then why do you have so many of them?"
The Mind sighed. "Because I'm collecting them—to destroy them. One of those creatures you saw is only one of many. I can't bring myself to kill them. I keep them in hopes of finding a cure."
Nicholas stayed silent.
"This world does not need monsters created by human hands," the Mind said softly.
"Created… who… who made this thing?" Nicholas's hand trembled as he looked down at the vial.
"I do not know."
"What..?"
"I don't know who created these accursed things. I only know they're found in abandoned facilities scattered across the city—or so I believe."
"Facilities? Scattered?" Nicholas frowned. "There are no reports of this drug anywhere else?"
"None. Only here, in this cursed city. Many forces collect, exploit, and sell them for profit. I may be a pillar of villainy, but I am still human—and I stand on the side of humanity." His tone was as sincere as it had ever been.
"I'll see about that," Nicholas muttered.
"Then I must ask you to return the vial. After what I've told you, surely you realize why I can't let you 'waltz' out of here with it?"
Nicholas hesitated. The thing was dangerous, too dangerous. But if he gave it back, he might lose a vital clue to uncovering its origin.
"Should you not return it to me," the Mind warned, "I will peer into your mind and strip you of every secret you hold."
Reluctantly, Nicholas handed it over.
"Good choice." The Mind exhaled, voice smooth once more. "I do hope my explanation was satisfactory."
Nicholas shrugged and turned away. "It'll do."
He started to leave, but the Mind's voice stopped him one last time.
"Oh, and child, before I forget… Enjoy your youth–"
Youth.
Youth had distracted him from what was important.
And now, he would pay the price.
…
"Uh-ue-uaAAAHHHH!"
The thug's guttural scream echoed through the hall.
The black liquid seeped from the shattered vial, coating his hand entirely. His fingers curled inward, twisting grotesquely into his palm until his hand became a warped stump. The substance crept up his arm with terrifying speed.
"Cut-! Cut it off! Please! SOMEONE CUT IT OFF!"
The desperation in his voice was unmistakable, but there was no saving him now. The liquid surged upward, climbing toward his face.
When he opened his mouth to scream again, the blackness poured inside, silencing him completely.
By then, his arm had melted, or perhaps fused, into the rest of his body. He clawed at his face with his remaining hand, digging his nails in so deeply that blood welled up, only for it to vanish as the substance absorbed it.
The head began to meld into the torso, leaving only his legs untouched. The upper half of his body resembled a quivering mound of black sludge.
Nicholas could only stare, paralyzed in horror, as the grotesque transformation unfolded.
The man pinned beneath him shouted in anguish as he watched his companion suffer.
The doomed man, somehow still alive, tried to flee, but stumbled and fell. As he hit the ground, the black sludge spread across the metallic floor.
Moments later, even his legs were gone, leaving only a heaving, shapeless mass of black mud.
Finally, the writhing ceased.
Nicholas rose from the grieving man, his mind numb from what he had just witnessed.
"Jer! Jeremy! You stupid son of a bitch! No! No!" The thug fell to his knees, sobbing in front of the pile of ooze.
Though shaken, Nicholas's mind still worked through the chaos.
Wasn't he supposed to change into a monster?
He tensed. Something felt wrong.
"This isn't over," he muttered. "Get away from there."
As if on cue, the black mass began to ripple. A column rose from the center of the sludge, then split at the top into five uneven branches.
It looked like a human hand, but wrong. Distorted.
The rightmost digit was a thumb, beside it an index, then a middle. The next was another index, and the leftmost… another thumb.
Then, an eye opened in the center of the palm.
Its sclera was pale white, its slit pupil black and reptilian.
A mouth tore open across what resembled its forearm, sideways, gaping wide enough to swallow a man whole.
Its teeth were a chaos of sharp geometric shapes, arranged without logic or symmetry, existing only to maim.
At the bottom of its towering form, two pointed limbs-like inverted pyramids, served as legs.
The transformation was complete.
The monstrosity loomed, too large for the hallway, its eye gazing down at them.
"...The hell?" the thug whispered, staring at what had once been Jeremy. "Jeremy..?"
He reached toward the monstrous eye. It drew him in, terrifying, yet mesmerizing.
A tentacle lashed out, coiling around his waist. He would have been seized had Nicholas not pulled him aside at the last second.
The man gasped, disoriented, clutching his head. "What the-?"
"A hypnotic eye," Nicholas said grimly. "That's going to be a problem."
"You…!" the man snarled, ready to lunge, but froze as the horror before them shifted.
He turned his gaze back to what used to be Jeremy, and immediately regretted it. A shudder coursed through him, and he turned away, unable to bear the sight.
"Don't make any sudden moves," Nicholas warned, voice tight with urgency. "It's waiting for us to act first."
He glanced at the thug. "That path your men took, is it an exit?"
"Should be," the man answered through clenched teeth.
Nicholas nodded. "I'll distract it. You make a run for it."
"The hell are you talking about?"
"Believe it or not, I had no intention of killing any of you."
The thug's glare hardened. "Bullshit!" He grabbed Nicholas by the collar.
"I could've killed your men when I destroyed their equipment," Nicholas shot back. "Or when I released that fog that almost suffocated you all—I pulled it back. That's proof enough, isn't it?"
He tried to keep calm, to keep his anger in check. If he lost it now, neither of them would survive.
"Listen here, you bastard," the man growled. "Because of you, Jer made a rash choice and ended up like that!"
"Blame me if you want. Curse me to hell if you wish. Hunt me down to the ends of the Earth if that's your will." Nicholas's voice was low, steady. "But you won't be able to do any of that if you die here."
The man released him and stepped back, struggling to comprehend what the vigilante was saying. "You… there's something wrong with you."
Nicholas turned his gaze toward the monster that had once been Jeremy.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I know."
A soft blue flame flickered to life in his palm. The creature recoiled immediately, the eye on its palm narrowing as if in pain.
"The biggest obstacle right now is 'Jeremy,' who's blocking the way," Nicholas said without looking away from it. "Any chance we can go back the way we came?"
The boss hesitated, eyes darting between Nicholas and the creature. "If you memorized the way through this maze, go ahead. We're too deep in now. We found some markings, signs that said there's another exit that way." He pointed behind Jeremy.
"Where does it lead?"
"A commercial building, maybe."
"Got it." Nicholas nodded. "I'll get its attention. You make a break for it."
"You're fucking insane."
"I get that a lot. You want to get out of here alive or not?"
The boss hesitated for a few seconds, then gave a reluctant nod.
Nicholas summoned a dagger into his hand and sprinted toward the monster.
The creature's fingers twitched in response. Its massive hand slammed down, aiming to crush him.
Nicholas slid out of the way just in time, the shockwave from the impact rattling his bones. Using the momentum from his slide, he sprang upward and slashed at the creature's leg, only to have his dagger bounce off harmlessly.
Its body… is it made of metal?
It was the first time his constructs had ever failed to cut. The realization jolted him.
Moving quickly, he threw the dagger toward the back of the creature's hand or what passed for its head.
"Burn."
The dagger ignited midair, blazing blue, but like before, it ricocheted off its target. Still, it managed to draw the monster's attention.
The great eye turned toward him, the slit pupil contracting.
"Now go!" Nicholas shouted.
But the boss had already bolted, sprinting past the vigilante.
The creature's gaze shifted, locking onto the fleeing man.
"Hey! Don't look at him! Look at me!" Nicholas barked.
A massive finger flicked outward with brutal speed, striking him squarely. He was sent crashing into the wall, leaving a man-shaped dent.
"Ow," he muttered, wincing.
Before he could recover, the creature moved, shockingly fast for its size, chasing after the man who had escaped.
"Well… that's something," Nicholas sighed, dragging himself upright.
Just when I thought I'd seen it all… only now do I realize how many things are happening in the shadows.
Can I deal with it all?
Can I not just survive, but thrive?
Will this kind of life… work out?
He didn't know the answers to any of those questions. He didn't have time to find them, either.
Right now, he had a 'Jeremy' to catch up to.