Chapter 560 Blenheim Close (3)
As Erik descended the final flight of stairs into the vast underground chamber, his cushioned paws made contact with the icy, sterile floor below them, making it so that no sound was made.
Bright lights hung from the ceiling, indicating the room was an underground laboratory. Erik had never seen anything like it before, but he was starting to have a bad feeling.
Large glass partitions could be seen directly before him, separating the space into several distinct enclosures. Inside, Erik observed several people whose state was clearly hopeless. The physical wounds were just some of the things that were visible to them. They probably became mad after what they saw and heard there.
Some huddled together, their eyes wide with fear, while others sat listlessly facing the room's walls with void looks.
Their clothing was tattered, and the dirt and grime of their ordeal were visible on their faces.
Erik's stomach dropped as he realized these people were probably kidnapped or bought from the Haven Market.
As he continued to look, he came face to face with an even more horrifying sight. One side of the laboratory was lined with rows of tables made of stainless steel, and each table held a lifeless body. There were people of all ages and genders sitting at the tables.
Some were hidden from view by white sheets. In contrast, others were left uncovered, exposing the dreadful work done by whoever managed this establishment.
A disturbing assortment of severed body parts were laid out on trays and placed next to the tables in an orderly fashion. However, what genuinely captivated Erik's attention was a shelf containing glass jars filled with glowing liquids.
Each jar contained brain crystals, which retained the inherent power that characterizes them despite their detachment from the Thaids that produced them. Erik felt a chill run down his spine as he realized this was no ordinary laboratory but a room filled with unimaginable horrors.
Antiseptics and a metallic odor, most likely blood, permeated the air heavily, making breathing difficult.
The only sounds that could be heard were the hum of the machinery and the intermittent beeping of a monitor, which contributed to the unsettling atmosphere in the room.
Under the bright lights, surgical implements such as scalpels, forceps, and other similar implements glowed menacingly. Each instrument was a testament to the sinister deeds that had been carried out in this location.
Even in his guise as a cat, Erik experienced a rising tide of rage and revulsion. How many people had been hurt in this place? How many people's lives had been taken for some sickening goal? The sight of the victims held captive, juxtaposed against such heinous acts of inhumanity, was almost too much for anyone to bear.
Erik hid in the shadows momentarily while trying to regain his composure. With his eyes roving around like cats, he tried to take in the horror he saw. It was absolutely necessary to avoid being discovered.
The constant buzz of machines and the unnerving silence of the underground laboratory were abruptly broken by the sound of footsteps reverberating down the staircase. The whiskers on Erik's cat ears flickered, and he became instantly alert. His eyes darted around the room as he looked for a place to conceal himself.
Erik did not waste any time after discovering a secluded nook obscured by darkness. As he raced toward it, his Chameleon Veil power made it even easier for him to blend in with the shadows and become almost impossible to distinguish from his surroundings.
From this hidden vantage point behind some equipment, Erik's feline eyes watched keenly as two figures began to descend the staircase.
The overhead lights first illuminated the man's face, revealing the unmistakable features of Doran Stedman—a surge of recognition shot through Erik, momentarily quickening his feline pulse.
<Easy money and just two days of work.>
Next to Doran was a woman who appeared to be in her early forties. Her face was angular, framed by high cheekbones and icy, calculating eyes that seemed inappropriate in a research setting.
Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, lending her an air of stern authority. Both were dressed in immaculate white lab coats, their sterile appearance jarringly at odds with the grim environment.
Erik strained his ears to catch snippets of their conversation. Doran's deep, confident voice filled the chamber. "The last batch showed promise, but we must refine the process further. The subjects are resisting more than I anticipated."
The woman tinged with a steely impatience, responded, "We're on a tight schedule, Doran, and with THEM on our tail, we can't afford any delays."
Doran laughed, a sound grotesquely out of place in such a setting. "Always the pragmatist, aren't you, Catrina? Don't worry. Once we've perfected the technique, even they won't be able to stop us."
Catrina shot Doran a sidelong glance, her lips curling into a slight smirk. "Just make sure there are no more... complications. We can't afford any more surprises."
Erik's thoughts were racing as he attempted to interpret what was being said in their cryptic conversation. Which 'technique' were they talking about exactly? What exactly did Doran mean when he said that the subjects were resisting?
Erik could see the two individuals initially, but as they went deeper into the laboratory, they eventually disappeared from his line of sight.
However, the implications were crystal clear and sufficiently chilling: the atrocities he had seen were merely the surface of something much more sinister.
Not only was Doran a participant in these horrifying experiments, but he was also the mastermind behind them. Catrina, the woman in question, was most likely an accomplice of his, but of course, he didn't know at which level she cooperated or what her role was. The stakes had just been raised to an entirely new level.
Erik's feline form remained hidden in the shadows, and despite this, it was tense and ready to move at any moment. He believed he had enough evidence but continued his investigation by copying all the data from the lab's computers.
However, he also needed to discover what part his Uncle Benjamin played in this dreadful enterprise.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel