Page 77 of Molly Boys
Merritt and Kips hurried from the room as Archie strode around his desk and grabbed his overcoat off the hook.
“I’ll come with you,” Shaw said firmly and Archie turned to stare at him. “You don’t know if Lord Stanley will require medical attention when you find him,” Shaw pointed out, “and anyway, one more pair of eyes searching a dark empty factory can’t hurt, can they?”
“You’re a good man, Robert.” Archie gave a nod of assent before turning and heading out of his office, praying he wasn’t too late.
* * *
Ev’s eyelids fluttered as he swam up through syrupy layers of consciousness. There was an unpleasant taste in his mouth and his head throbbed. He blinked as he tried to clear his blurred vision.
He was freezing, his whole body wracked with violent shivers as he realised he was partly naked. A draught caused cold air to ripple across his skin and his nipples tightened as goose flesh rose across his arms and torso. His mind came more fully awake, registering the rough wood of the table beneath his bare back. He tried to sit up, only to find his body restrained.
Looking down as his vision cleared, he found himself wearing only his trousers and laid out on a table of some sort. His feet were bare, as were his chest and arms, but what panicked him were the buckled leather cuffs holding him at his ankles and wrists, with two larger straps buckled across his chest and thighs.
Held firmly in place, he glanced around frantically to take in his surroundings. He was in a large room of some kind and a series of gas lights illuminated the space and revealed bare stone walls. With no fireplace or heat to warm the air, his breath puffed from between his lips as a thin mist and his body wouldn’t stop shuddering. Although that could have been from the bone-deep fear coursing through his veins.
Able to at least move his head, he could see a long table set up along the wall parallel to him. It held all kinds of scientific equipment: microscopes, Bunsen burners, glass distilling bottles, tubes and vials. Spiral glass tubes arced between various clamps and bottles, and inside the system bubbled a strange-looking liquid.
But the most disturbing sight of all, the one which made Ev’s blood run cold as ice, was the tray set on a small metal surgical trolley beside him. It contained a ruthlessly organised row of cruel-looking instruments. There was no doubting where Ev found himself.
He was in the killer’s lair.
“Good, you’re awake,” said an unfamiliar voice somewhere behind him.
Ev twisted his head sharply at the sudden words but was unable to identify the speaker from this angle. The person, whoever he was, seemed very collected, speaking so conversationally that Ev could have been merely waking from an afternoon nap instead of coming out of a drug-induced unconsciousness after being abducted.
“Who are you?” Ev asked, his voice laced with apprehension.
Slowly, the other man moved in Ev’s field of vision and Ev’s heart jolted in shock.
“Baxter?”
“Actually, it’s Dr Baxter,” he corrected. There was something chilling about how calm the man was. “Those imbeciles at the Royal College may have expelled me from their ranks, but it doesn’t negate my qualifications.”
“I know who you are.” Ev swallowed slowly, his heart hammering in his chest. “I know what you’ve done.”
Baxter stopped his movements and looked directly at Ev, his black eyes completely devoid of any trace of humanity.
“You really don’t.” His slow smile sent an icy prickle of fear sliding down Ev’s spine. “I do hope Mr Smith wasn’t too rough with you. He became slightly overzealous with the last subject and unfortunately broke the fellow’s neck before he could be of any real use. Mr Perkins’ contribution wasn’t in vain though.” Baxter picked several lengths of rubber tubing and set them on a separate surgical trolley beside him. “I want you to know that. Every action has a purpose. I’m never wasteful. Sometimes experiments don’t go to plan, but the mark of a great scientist is to adapt. Mr Perkins’ spinal fluid was no good after it had been contaminated with blood, but the fluid from his skull, that was still viable. After all, it’s the same, you know.”
“You’re not a scientist.” Ev shivered. “You’re a murderer.”
Baxter picked up several syringes and placed them on the table alongside the tubing.
“Of course, I don’t expect you to understand,” Baxter replied. “Greatness is not without sacrifice.”
“Why?” Ev shivered so badly his teeth chattered.
“Why?” Baxter repeated incredulously as he set several conical flasks on the trolley. “Why? For the greater good, of course. When you look at me, what do you see?”
“A killer,” Ev hissed in disgust. “All I see is a killer.”
“You see somebody weaker than you,” Baxter continued, ignoring Ev’s answer. “That’s all anyone sees. Shunned by young ladies because of how I looked—not that I was interested.” His gaze dragged over Ev’s bare torso, leaving Ev feeling unclean and a little nauseous.
“People make assumptions when they see me. They don’t see what I am truly capable of, they don’t see the mastery of my mind, my intelligence. They see my poor skin and the weakness and wasting of my body. But what if I cure that weakness? What if I am able to make my body as strong as my mind?”
Baxter stopped what he was doing and stared at Ev, his eyes burning with an unholy kind of fire. “I hypothesised that, by taking healthy cells from a donor subject, I could create a serum that would reverse my body’s disposition. I’ll admit, choosing the pretty ones was my own vanity. After all, if I could change my body, make it stronger, why couldn’t I reverse the damage to my skin too? Why couldn’t I be beautiful?”
Ev’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re insane.”