project: eden | leon kennedy

▪︎ Chapter 11 ▪︎

When they were done with that, they took a few thinner tubes and injected them into the subject's limbs. The machines beside the table hissed to life, multiple screens lighting up as data was coming in from the subject. The doctor took notes of the subject's rapid heart rate and abnormally low body temperature. Besides those, most things were looking like they should.

Kaloyanchev passed his notes to the person standing off to his left and stepped up to the subject. Another man stood next to a small table with a glass container sitting on it, a protective hand resting atop it. Inside that container were the remains they could gather from Plant 43, a sad excuse for what it was before. The plant moved slowly under the fluorescent lights, the artificial lighting putting it on full display.

Plant 43 looked like a churned, burnt, on the brink-of-death plant. The scientists were surprised it was even alive after what it went through in the NEST. 90% of what it was before now was gone. People like Kaloyanchev had the job of gathering the remaining 10% and making the most out of it. But even all those scientists collectively weren't as good as the mastermind Clara Keller who made Plant 43 in the first place.

Rumor has it, that Clara Keller lost her life in the NEST, that she didn't make it out in time. But there was no body of proof, only a note left to him, giving out her last orders about her life project. The final project of Clara Keller was the most mind-blowing and one of the most anticipated things Umbrella had ever had their hands on.

The man standing closest to the remains of Platn 43 shifted his weight on his legs uncomfortably, his gloves straining as he gripped the container tighter. Fear made his blue eyes glow brighter. Kaloyanchev felt for the man. He was scared, too. He just didn't have the privilege to show it.

"I will be extracting a sample from Plant 43 and injecting it into Subject T-54514," the Doctor said to the camera as he approached the container with a large needle.

There was a small latch on the side of the container where he could insert the needle. The needle was long enough that the plant wouldn't be able to get out of its reach. Everyone watched as the small vial filled up with dark liquid extracted from the plant, everyone in the room too nervous to notice the shake of Kaloyanchev's hands.

But not him, on the other side of the two-way mirror. He saw everything.

When the vial was full, Kaloyanchev stepped back and took a second to look at the dark fluid flowing in it. Just by looking at it, it made his skin crawl and he quickly flicked his gaze away from it. He just had to do his job. This was the most important project of his life.

And if he fucked it up, it'll be his last project as well.

The doctor walked over to the strapped-down subject and tightened his grip on the syringe. The fate of so many lives lay in his hands.

Gripping the arm of the subject, Kaloyanchev leaned over and pushed the slightly larger than normal needle into the skin of the subject, the ashy pale color of its skin almost translucent under the harsh lights. It was easy to find a vein to inject the fluid into.

"Attempting connection between subjects starts now," he said it more to the man on the other side than to the others.

Slowly, he injected the fluid into the vein. Everyone held their breaths back as they watched the dark, thick fluid flow into the veins and spread out through the arm, sneaking up toward the body. The beeping on one of the machines got more rapid, indicating that the pulse of the subject started increasing. Kaloyanchev kept a careful watch over the vitals and the subject, his own heart hammering in his chest.

The beepings of the machines got more frantic, the noise raising the level of anxiety in the room. Some were fidgeting nervously, on the brink of a nervous breakdown while the head scientist just stood there, his eyes fixed on the subject as he kept repeating the same thing inside his head: Come on, come on.