Lurk

Chapter Eighteen

“Did you just say Bridge? God, don’t tell me you’re Walter’s brother...”

The professor fidgeted nervously, unsure where to look or how to respond in a way which wouldn’t end badly for him. He could feel the soldier pressuring him for an answer, even if no more words were being said. “Y-yes...”

Tim felt truly powerful at that moment in time, acting on his own initiative and reducing a grown man to tears. For the first time in his life, he was rolling solo, without any crummy lieutenants or hot-shot sergeants pushing him around.

Being in the presence of a dead psycho’s flesh and blood was unnerving, and Tim’s index finger wavered over the trigger still. Could he put down a man in cold blood, without any evidence or justifiable argument for doing so?

“I’m sorry if that complicates things,” Bridge’s German-sounding accent beamed through without any effort to mask itself. “But what my brother did is no way related to me.”

The nasal German had quite a threatening face, and would add up to an intimidating man if it wasn’t for all the other factors to account for. His lips were slashed, eyes filled with green venom and danger seemed to emanate from every visible feature. “Are you alone, sir?”

“Pretty much...”

The professor’s heart seemed to sink, and in a relaxed sigh he began to roam the lab, fiddling with beakers and solutions as casually as he would a thermostat. “That is a real shame.” His voice trailed off into the darkness.

Put him down now. His back’s turned, and nobody’s stopping you. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Tim swallowed his hesitation, and began to raise the gun, a few inches at a time. That’s right, Tim, take the power back. It feels good, doesn’t it?

It was something that couldn’t be stopped, not in his eyes. Suddenly, everything that he’d heard about and from Lurk was making perfect sense. You didn’t choose to lose your moral codes or care for humanity, they just vanished. Into the fog, everything your parents strived to teach you disappeared for good.

“I take it you’ve heard the stories, then,” Bridge stood dead still, shoulders hung low in defeat. “About my brother, that is...”

White kept the gun aimed, right between the ears. All he had to do was tense the trigger, and the professor’s life would end. “Yeah, everyone on base has... why?”

Bridge’s tone of voice lowered to a malicious rumble. “Otherwise you would not have a nine-millimetre aimed for my temple.”

Tim shuddered. How much torment and bullying did a man have to suffer in his life to have such sharp awareness? He’s just assuming. Put a bullet in him now!

The voices that were guiding him he loathed with a passion. They tried to give him the delusion of control, when all they were doing was controlling him. Tim White was no murderer, no matter how many demons entered the abyss of his mind. Okay, no more. He lowered the gun, holstering it with assurance.

When the professor heard the click, he turned back to show his face. It was devoid of emotion. “I am not a very normal fellow – I understand that, I do. But you should learn not to judge what you do not truly understand.”

“You wouldn’t say that unless you had something to hide.” The reply was an impulsive move, but Tim didn’t come to regret the words leaving his mouth.

“Ah, I guess you’ve got me.” Something which might’ve registered as a smile outside of the lab’s four walls appeared on the professor’s face, as he reached into one of his coat’s many pockets.