[Gucen: Violent Crime Unit, Holding Cell 3]

The clang of metal hitting metal slapped Gu Yan out of his traumatizing thoughts. His startled eyes darted towards the door holding him prisoner inside the roughly hundred square feet room he was presently sharing with ten or twelve other inmates.

"Lunch in five minutes!" The security officer yelled without looking up from his register before moving on.

The once-laundry-mat owner wiped his bloodshot eyes with the back of his pale blue overalls and stood up. His eyes searched the room for someone... anyone who would listen, but none seemed the least bit interested.

Gu Yan clenched and unclenched his fists, 'Why did I do it?' His eyes swam with tears as he recalled the bloody, lifeless bodies of his beautiful wife and young son lying on the floor of his home. Cold. He balled his fists. 'Why don't I remember?' he contemplated.

Less than forty-eight hours ago, Gu Yan was a man loved by his family and respected by his neighbors. He had lived in Gucen all his life, and as is true for most small communities, he knew everyone, and everyone knew him. Though Gu Yan was an introvert who hadn't made many friends, he hadn't made any enemies either; at least, that's what he had thought till he was arrested for the cold-blooded murder of his wife and child.

Within a few hours of his arrest, everyone who the man had ever interacted with had come forward stating that he was an alcoholic who took pleasure in abusing his wife and child, mentally as well as physically.

Gu Yan buried his face in his hands, "Why?" he muttered under his breath.
No one reacted. No one cared.

When he had come to and tasted metal on his tongue, he had been scared thinking he had injured himself; looking down at his bloodied clothes had only cemented his doubts, and he had run to his wife, only to find her and his son on the floor of their living room with their throats ripped out.

Bile had risen to his throat as excruciating pain invaded his heart; Gu Yan had rushed to the sink and emptied the contents of his last meal in the bowl before catching his reflection in the mirror that sat atop it.

He looked ghastly; dried blood was smeared all over his mouth and neck.
'Not mine.' His mind had supplied even as he came to terms with what he had seen in the living room. His family. Dead.

He checked his fingers were caked with blood with bits of flesh sticking out of his nails.

They were not his either.

At this moment, it had hit him that he was the cause of death. Their death.
He was the one who had called the police and surrendered willingly. He had lost his will to live anyway.

It was only after his neighbors had turned him into a monster with lies and accusations that he had started wondering what had happened to make him kill his loved ones.

"Fall in!" It was the security officer from earlier commanded.

As if on autopilot, Gu Yan's cellmates arranged themselves in two single lines.

Just like he had done the last two times since arriving in the cell, the anguish-stricken man took his place at the end of the second one and slowly marched out of the four walls, vowing to himself that come what may, he would get to the bottom of this matter before he breathed his last.

Thirty minutes later, Gu Yan was declared dead.

***

[Katakam Wildlife Reserve]

The medical facility had no natural light. That was to be expected since it was located twelve feet underground.

The nauseating stench of blood mixed with chlorine hung in the stale air.

The Reach had always kept its employees on the tips of their toes, but for the past six months, failed projects at The Cure, had led to the ones responsible for clean-up operations being busier than usual.

The OT had seen no patients in a month, and the 'trial' wards lay barren. The 'drug testing' units were no better either.

The competition in the pharmaceutical market was cutthroat. Only those on top held power. Up until six months ago, The Cure pharmaceutical Ltd. had ruled that spot. But now, with their main ingredient: Gshift, exhausted, people who ran the company were worried about falling behind for the first time since its conception.

The metal door creaked open, and a man with thin lips, graying hair, and a sharp jawline stepped inside. His champagne-colored Gucci suit, stitched to perfection, exuded power, and the way he held himself, as straight as a pole, hinted at his social status.

The man had obviously never known poverty.

"Fangxi, did you take care of subject F04?" He demanded. His pulled-down straight brows and wrinkled nose as he glanced at the table looked alien on his otherwise elegant countenance.

He was used to success and perfection. Both of which had been eluding him for the past seven months.

"Yes, Shu-shu. He was poisoned by one of ours. The autopsy will show nothing." The young man in a gray suit, Fangxi, replied confidently.

"Good. We can't afford any more screw-ups. It's getting more and more difficult to keep mouths fed and shut." The older man left a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Shu-shu," Fangxi hesitated, making the older man turn and glare at him.
"Tell me that you got him." The graying man's calm tone, a stark contrast to his blazing eyes.

Fangxi averted his gaze. "Shu-shu, please. I will fix this. Just give me two days."

"Fangxi, I didn't expect you to disappoint me like this-" the older man ground his teeth and bit out, "-again."

"Shu-shu," The young man flinched and cowered, "I will-'

"I have been patient with you, have I not?" The older pressed on condescendingly.

"Yes, Shu-shu."

"No one is irreplaceable, do you understand? If you fail me one more time-"

"I won't, Shu-shu. I promise." The young man begged, falling to his knees and rubbing his palms together.

"Fine. It's the least I can do for my family...for blood." The man being addressed as Shu-shu grabbed the young man's shoulder.

Fangxi's gray suit did nothing to stop the nails that dug into the soft flesh next to his shoulder blades and drew blood. He kept his lips sealed. He couldn't show weakness, at least not yet, especially not in front of his Shu-shu.

An instant later, Fangxi was released from the painful grip.

"Do you think I am being unfair, son?"   The graying man licked his claws and gave them a moment to retract.

"No, Shu-shu. I deserved that. Thank you for your kindness." Fangxi's voice was steady. Practice makes perfect, and the young man had had enough of that to last him a lifetime.

"Humm." The man hummed, looking and sounding satisfied, at least, for the moment, "Good. Tell me what happened." He commanded his nephew, ready to listen to all that the young man had to say about his latest failed mission.

[Chapter word count: 1207
Word count so far: 8198]