For a split second, I saw pure terror flow in Harlow’s eyes before it vanished, and he returned to his seemingly usual emotionless state while looking from his arm, which had been pinned to the wall by his sleeve, and then to me.
"Medically speaking, what you have said is impossible; I don’t believe it for a second…" Before he could finish his statement with arrogance-laced words, he noticed that the syringe filled with morphine, which had been in his hand a second ago, was now in mine.
"Nothing is impossible; in fact, I have been known to make the so-called impossible possible more than once." Gingerly twirling the syringe filled with Harlow’s killing method, I used my free hand to pull up the sleeve of my left arm, exposing my pale flesh to the light.
"I wasn’t joking when I said you wouldn’t even be able to puncture my skin…" with that, I attempted to stab the needle into the crook of my elbow, only for the needle to bend at an awkward angle upon coming in contact with my too hard to pierce flesh.
"The tools you have at your disposal won’t even be able to lay a scratch on my tender and pristine skin. Good Doctor." Then, with a smile, I did something that blew Harlow’s mind.
Using my free hand, I reached up and plucked the needle off the head of the syringe, then slid my mask up just high enough to expose my mouth before pushing the plunger and shooting the lethal dose of morphine directly into my mouth, then swallowing.
Showing off, I even stuck out my tongue, allowing Harlow to see that I had swallowed it all before crossing my arms over my chest and pulling my mask back down.
"And now we wait; how else can I prove to you that I am immune other than ingesting it, heh?"
It was apparent to me from the silence and stunned face of Harlow that I may have gone a bit overboard; however, if I truly wanted him to understand his situation without using any of my PC, there was no other option apart from flexing my strength…which was still on the table if he didn’t cooperate.
"You fool…ha…haha, you actually just committed suicide; why was I even worried? Now all I will have to do is wait, and then I can run some tests to see why the needle couldn’t break through your epidermis." Chuckling to himself, Harlow reached over, gripped my dagger by the handle, and tried to pull it from the wall so that it would free his white coat sleeve.
However, one tug, two tugs, and five tugs later, the dagger had yet to budge, frustrating the man and causing me to stifle a laugh.
It wasn’t really that I had embedded the dagger that deep into the wall, well, it was, considering the wall was made of solid brick, but my dagger also weighed a shit ton by normal human standards, a whopping 50 lbs, but to me, it was light as a feather.
Adding its weight and how deep it was in the solid brick unless Harlow used his full body weight and braced himself against the wall, odds were he wasn’t going to pull it out anytime soon.
One minute soon passed, and much to Harlow’s surprise, I didn’t seem affected at all, but since it wasn’t directly injected into my bloodstream, he thought it might be taking longer to work its magic.
That is until a full 30 minutes had transpired, then an hour, and finally, after an hour and a half since I downed the morphine, Harlow began believing my claims.
"This can’t be…." He muttered, his arm still stuck to the wall and hanging slightly above his shoulder.
"I do not lie, Harlow Sheffield. I may be many things, but a liar is not on that list; now that I have gotten that out of the way, let me show you that if I wished to kill, you would have already left the world of the living to enter eternal damnation."
Fwooshhh
"What THE HELL!" Harlow’s choked voice filled his office as he noticed he was no longer sitting on the ground but instead hanging in the air, with a hand tightly around his throat and his feet dangling a little over a foot off the floor.
Moving with a burst of speed, I did a couple of things, like storing my dagger in my inventory, raiding Harlow’s desk drawer of his entire morphine stock, and most importantly, capturing him so that I could lift him by the neck off the ground while standing on his desk.
All this happened in less than a second, as I moved at my top speed, and Harlow’s puny 1C Basic Human brain couldn’t register my movements.
To him, one second, he was on the ground, the next in the air, and that mere thought terrified him. As I tilted him slightly so that he could look into my Icy blue eyes, I registered the horror he was experiencing.
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"Witch…cough…craft….demon…" somehow managing to leak a few words, I nearly burst out laughing when I heard them.
I had been wondering how I was going to write off my existence, but sure enough, there was no need to waste brain cells on such a topic, as Harlow had literally given me the best possible out I could have imagined.
"Ah…you silly British humans, always claiming something to be a witch or demon, has time taught you nothing. How many of your so-called witch-hunts ever yielded any results?" Shaking my head, I was kind of glad Harlow couldn’t see the shit-eating grin I was wearing under my mask, as it would have more than likely broken my carefully created façade.
"I will say, though, it makes me curious how you mortals learned of our existence, to begin with, demons, devils, fiends, rakasha, we’ve been called many things by you lot over the thousands of years that Humankind has walked the earth…I suppose it shall be sufficient for now."