The Dark Alchemist

He had been closer to the reactor than he should have been, while his suit should have protected him from the blast, it did not. Faulty suits were common among the plant and the people who ran it. This, however, was going to be the first time their negligence caused someone to die. The lawyers were already circling the wagons and getting ready to lose millions in litigation from the worker’s loved ones, the very people who would miss him. Not only did the plant stand to lose millions in court, but there would be public inquiries, senate hearings, which meant the shit was about to hit the fan for the people who ran place. They needed to do something to minimize the damage and do it quickly.

It was at this point when one of the executives said he knew a guy who knew someone who could help. While the other board members were curious about what he was talking about, the executive simply said that all this could go away if the worker in question were to make a full recovery. If they spent a few dollars to clean up the mess and get the plant back up to code, they could sweep the whole thing under the rug as if it never happened. The board members all laughed at the man as if he was talking nonsense. The executive simply smiled at their lack of faith and informed them that if he could turn this around, that he would want to take over the entire company as CEO.

Since the board thought what he was proposing was insanity, they quickly agreed to his terms. If the worker recovered, they could cover up what really happened, which would save them millions in damages, suits and hearings. They gave the exec three weeks to make something happen before they put their own plans into motion. The executive nodded and informed them all that was all the time he needed as he left to make some phone calls. The patient in question was set up in a private hospital, away from the public and especially the press. The exec did make some calls and offered double if the person he was calling would make his case a priority, which got the man’s attention. It was less than eight days later when the exec would meet up with the worker’s family to give them the news. The worker’s wife and her two children, a boy and a girl were sitting in a waiting room when the exec came in there to speak with them.

“Mrs. Blair,” the man called out as he walked up, “I apologize for the interruption, but I must speak with you.”

“Who are you?” she asked, looking up at him with eyes that were swollen from all the tears she had been crying.

“My name is Arthur Peters,” the man replied, “I’m here on behalf of the Global Industries.”

The woman hopped off the couch and walked up to the man slapping him across the face as she was disgusted the man was even there.

“My husband is dying!” Mrs. Blair spat out, “Can’t you bloody parasites at least wait until the body is cold before trying to pay us off.”

Before the man could respond, the near widow slapped his arms and chest, but he stood there and took it, waiting for her to eventually give up. Her hits were weak, and sign of what little sleep she had managed to get over the least week since the accident. She wasn’t wrong either, her husband was dying. Mr. Blair was rotting away from radiation poisoning, so she had every right to be pissed off. The father of her children was about to leave this world, or so she thought.

“Mrs. Blair, are you finished?” the man asked, looking down at her as he was at least a food taller than the woman.

“I guess,” the woman replied, “Can you just leave?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mr. Peters replied, “What I came to offer is only good while your husband is still alive.”

“Excuse me?” the woman said, “What are you talking about?”

“I have connections,” The man said, “And I pulled a lot of strings. There is a treatment that is being in the process of being delivered here tonight.”

“What kind of treatment?” the woman asked.

“The kind that could save your husband,” Mr. Peters replied, “I’m not going to lie to you Mrs. Blair. Regardless of how much it cost me to get this treatment here, it pales in comparison to what we stand to lose if your husband dies. Yet I’m sure if you were given a choice, you’d prefer that your husband not die tonight.”

“You would be correct,” the woman said, her face full of skepticism. “What’s the catch? What do we have to do to save his life?”

“You have to settle, right now.” Mr. Peters said, “We’ll give you all more than enough to live very comfortably while your husband recovers. He will require a lot of therapy, and it won’t be easy… but he’ll live.”

“As long as we keep our mouths shut.” The woman hissed back.

“This wasn’t my idea,” The man confessed, “The silence I require is a condition being made by the man who invented this treatment. He requires privacy or he’ll refuse to let your husband be treated. That’s his terms, not mine.”

“Still haven’t heard a catch,” Mrs. Blair repeated.

“I’m not going to sugar coat it,” Mr. Peters said, as he preferred to be blunt. “This treatment will save him, but it will take time to fully recover. We will cover all expenses, so your settlement will be yours to take home. All we require is discretion and a settlement… then we can put him on the road to recovery.”

“Why does this need to be so secret?” Mrs. Blair asked.

“It’s not legal,” the man confessed, “This stuff has barely started human trails, but what I’ve seen of it is amazing. I’m moving mountains save your husband, but a lot of terms and conditions apply.”

“You’re only doing this to save your own ass,” Mrs. Blair hissed back at him.

“Yes, I am.” Peters admitted, “The question I have is do you really give a rat’s ass how the sausage is being made? Right here and now the only thing that matters is results and your husband making a full recovery. I’m not asking you to do this for me or my board, but for yourself and your family. We can cut you a much bigger cheque, an ungodly sum, during the wrongful death suit. Yet wouldn’t rather trade that in to get your husband back?”

The woman seemed disgusted but knew what he was saying was true. “And what if this doesn’t work?”

“Then we’re right back to where we started before I got here.” Peters answered, “Right now you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. I wouldn’t be here if I honestly didn’t think this was going to work. Just sign the necessary papers and give us permission to treat your husband, and we can get this started tonight.”

“Tonight?” Mrs. Blair repeated.

“In an hour to be precise,” Peters said, checking his watch. “I not trying to push you into this, but the sooner we start treatment the better your husband’s odds of recovery are. My man is going to be here very soon, let him do his work and I’ll take care of everything from there.”

“College scholarships for both kids,” Mrs. Blair added.

“Already done,” Peters informed her, “We set up trust funds for their education two days after the accident. Anything else?”

“Is he going to suffer?” she asked.

“He might,” Peters answered, “but this would be the good kind. He’s already suffering anyway, so it doesn’t make a difference right now.”

The woman looked back at the two young children who were playing with toys in the waiting room before looking back at Peters.

“Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath. “You’re doing this save your ass, but there’s no reason why I can’t use you to save his ass.”

“I’m in complete agreement.” Peters said, relieved to hear her come around. “We are here to use at your disposal. My man has paperwork set up in that waiting room over there. Get everything signed and we can start when our man arrives.”

“What man are you talking about?” she then asked.

“No questions, Mrs. Blair.” Peters said, “Our man doesn’t want details of what he does going public. Just accept the amazing results that come with it. No questions asked.”

“Alright,” she replied, “What about the kids?”

“I’ll watch them,” Peters said, smiling back at her. “I’ll even order a pizza.”

“Okay,” the wife said, finally surrendering to his persuasion. “If he dies, I am going to sue you fuckers to the moon and back.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Peters replied, “Which is why I’m here.”

He watched as Mrs. Blair walked into the office that was being occupied by his lawyers, and walked her through sighing all the paperwork, which in turn settled the entire case out of court. His company was in the clear as long as the treatment worked. Peters also ordered pizza, three of them to be exact as he fed everyone who was sitting in the large waiting room. Peters was eating a slice when he felt a small tapping on his shoulder. He looked up and there was a man in weirdly dressed garb. He looked like he belonged to a medieval roleplay convention rather than in a hospital. He gave Peters a small grin as he looked down at what he was eating.

“Are those anchovies?” he asked Peters.

“They are,” Peters replied, “Would you happen to be Malcolm?”

“I am,” Malcolm confirmed, “I assume you’re Arthur Peters?”

“I am,” Peters said, as he put down what he was eating and stood up. “Let’s find somewhere to talk.”

The two men wandered down the hall and then into a room that was not in use, which this hospital had a lot of since it was privately used and funded. Once they were in the room, Peters took a curtain and slide it over to give them an extra layer of privacy as they began to talk.

“What’s with the secrecy?” Malcolm asked, “Are you hiding what I’m doing form his wife and kids?”

“No, I’m not.” Peters answered, looking back at him. “I’ve just be vague with the details. All I told her is that this treatment isn’t legal and that we’re sticking our necks out there to help her husband.”

“I get it,” Malcolm said, nodding as he understood. “You gave her your old man’s sausage line, didn’t you?”

Peters raised his hands, admitting his guilt. “Worked for the old man, didn’t it?”

“It did,” Malcolm concurred, “I take it you’ll also be taking care of them throughout the man’s recovery as well?”

“Yes,” Peters confirmed, “Covering my own ass covers yours as well. As long as no one finds out about my involvement, then no one can trace it back to you.”

“Sounds fair, and I take it my fee is alright as well?” Malcolm asked.

“Drops in the bucket,” Peters admitted, “What I’m paying you and that family I’m going to save ten times more by avoiding the legal blowback.”

“So, you’re saying I should ask for more?” Malcolm then inquired.

“I’m already paying you double your usual fee,” Peters reminded him, “You won’t have to work for a while if you don’t want to after this. If you need more later, or even a favor in the future, you’ll have that as well.”

“Damn,” Malcolm said, “You’ve got a lot on the line here, I get it. Let’s take care of our man here before he slips further away into oblivion.”

“After you,” Peters said, gesturing to the door.

Peters and Malcolm walked back into the hallway, and after walking for a few moments they came to the room where Mr. Blair was being held. The room was isolated, like it was his private ICU unit. Malcolm walked into the room with Peters and the nurse tried to stop them.

“You guys can’t be in here.” She told them both.

“I’m the man paying the bills,” Peters told her, “And you need to take your lunch break, right now.”

The nurse wanted to slap Peters for being such a smug asshole, but she knew what that comment meant. She walked away from her station to take her lunch break. Once she was gone, Malcolm turned back to Peters with a smug grin on his face.

“She wanted to slap you so bad,” Malcolm said, amused by it.

“That seems to be going around,” Peters said, looking back at Mr. Blair. “Let’s get started before he’s too far gone.”

“He’s not even close,” Malcolm said, looking him over. “I’ve saved people far more exposed than this. I’m confident he’ll be alright.”

“Music to my ears,” Peters said, “I’ll keep watch at the door. Get to it.”

Malcolm pulled a small vile out of his coat pocket, and the reddish liquid didn’t look menacing, but it was powerful enough to do the trick. Peters watched from the door as Malcolm held the vial in front of him and spoke out with some enchantment in a language that Peters couldn’t understand. Mere seconds after finishing speaking the words needed, the liquid in the vile started to glow and even gave off a soft sizzling sound. Peters looked on as the liquid in the vial continued to glow for a few seconds, giving off a bright orange colour, before returning to its reddish form.

“That never gets old,” Peters said, as he recalled the last time he saw it. “What you do is amazing.”

“What I do is dangerous,” Malcolm reminded him, “Are you sure the family is okay with this?”

“They signed everything,” Peters said, “It’s not fully informed consent, but the woman wants her husband back. She’s ready to sell her soul if that’s what it took.”

“I know someone who’d be interested in that deal,” Malcolm informed him, grinning as if he were joking.

“Don’t even jest about that shit,” Peters chided back, “I’m nervous enough about using you here, but I’m desperate.”

“I understand,” Malcolm said, “Daddy’s company and his legacy. I’m not judging, Arthur. I’ve seen people to a lot worse for far less noble causes.”

Malcolm walked closer to Mr. Blair and slowly opened his mouth and held the vile over his mouth.

“Bottoms up,” Malcolm softly said to himself.

He poured the red liquid down the man’s throat and then observed as the man made a swallowing motion, which allowed the liquid to head in the right direction. Malcolm watched as the man’s body started to give off a small glow, but that is when things started to go wrong. Mr. Blair’s body began to convulse and spasm as it appears the body was rejecting the elixir. As the man’s mouth gaped open, Malcolm knew from experience what was coming next as he rushed over and forced the man’s mouth closed with his hands and kept one hand over Mr. Blair’s mouth as his body tried to eject the elixir from his person. He could feel the elixir on his hands as the body tried to expel it, but then once it went back down the boy started to relax and surrender. The glow started to form again and this time it didn’t go away for at least two minutes this time. Once the glow started to fade, Malcolm let out a deep sigh.

“That was close,” Malcolm said, smiling back at Peters. “We’re okay.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Peters said, relieved himself. “How long will it take for him to recover?”

“It depends on how bad the poisoning was,” Malcolm explained, “Could be weeks, maybe months but he will recover. Just watch him while you’re taking care of him and call me if there are any issues.”

“I will,” Peters assured him, “We’re going to be paying for all services just so we can keep an eye on him and make sure this works.”

“And my payment?” Malcolm asked.

“Already done,” Peters informed him. “I was confident.”

“Nice to hear,” Malcolm said, trying not to look worried. That was the first time someone had tried to resist his elixir in years. While it was surprising, thankfully he was able to act in time. The thought of wasting a vial would have been upsetting to him as they are very hard to prepare.

The two men exited the room and began to walk down the hallway, and that’s when the bumped into Mrs. Blair and her two children. She had noticed that Peters had left the room and started to look around for him, afraid he was backing out on their deal. She was worried but relieved when she came across Peters in the hallway with Malcolm.

“Where have you been?” she asked Peters, ready to slap him again.

“We were with your husband,” Peters answered. “It’s done.”

“It is?” She asked, somewhat surprised.

“It is,” Malcolm said, trying to reassure her. “He took the treatment very well, and I expect his condition to turn around very soon.”

“How soon?” she asked, as she could hardly believe it.

“It will take time,” Malcolm informed her, “But he will recover.”

“Thank you so much!” Mrs. Blair said, as she began to cry.

It was at this point where the young girl, no older than seven, grabbed Malcolm’s hand and softly shook it.

“Thank you mister,” she said to him, “Thank you very much.”

Malcolm smiled back at her, aware that her gratitude was quite genuine. “You’re quite welcome. I was happy to help.”

Malcolm let go of her arm and started to walk down the hallway, even grabbing the Pizza box that Peters was eating out of and walked out without saying another word. He never liked to stick around afterwards. While it was fun to watch people celebrate when someone came back from their death bed, he learned a long time ago that hanging around wasn’t safe for him. Once word gets out that Blair made a miraculous recovery, people would come looking for him. It was only a matter of time so the sooner he got out of dodge, the better. Malcolm walked back out to a fancy car and tossed the box in the back seat and roared away, eager to hit the road and go home. As his car peeled off and hit the road like a bat out of hell, the young girl who was shaking his hand moments ago watched from the window in the waiting room on the third floor. She looked back at her hand once the car was gone, examining the reddish substance that was on it. It had transferred from Malcolm’s hand to hers when she shook it earlier, and it looked weird. The girl brought her hand up to her nose and smelled it for a few seconds.

“Hmmmm,” She said to herself, “Smells like strawberries.”

She paused for a moment before licking the substance to realize that it tasted like strawberries as well. Once she had ingested all the reddish stuff that was all over her hand, she went to bathroom to wash up. It had made her hands sticky, so she gave her hands a thorough cleaning to make sure no one knew what she had done. Once her hands were clean, she went back to the waiting room to grab another slice of pizza.