Behind Yellow Eyes: Chapter 5
Chapter 5.
"Have you ever wanted to become," Mist gestures down at himself, as he has fifty-nine times in the last two weeks. " One of us?" He shuts his eyes briefly and hopes, with all of his willpower, that this is the last time he has to ask such a ridiculous question.
So far, the answer has almost always been no. Occasionally, the ones who thought they were clever did say yes. But he was always able to scent the dishonesty, and the despair that went along with it. It's easy to tell when slaves are only telling you what they think you want to hear.
"One of you?" Marcus forces a laugh and shakes his head. "Are you crazy?"
He keeps his eyes locked on Marcus's, waiting for the scent to draw into his nose. And there it is, again. Covert fear, the type someone has when they're trying to hide something. There is no hiding from Mist.
He growls, long and deep. Marcus shuts his eyes and cowers. That's right, be afraid.
"I'll ask you one more time. I will not punish you for your honesty. But your lies... they will come with a price you won't enjoy paying. Have you ever wanted to be... one of us?"
Marcus chokes and swallows. His eyes dart around the room, like cornered prey. Finally, they settle on the floor. More color enters his cheeks, he speaks quietly. "Yeah."
" Yeah? " Mist rolls his hands. "Elaborate."
More silence, like he's making a decision. "I think about it every day of my life. I hate being human, I don't even like people." He glares up at Mist, clearly expecting to be ridiculed.
"Ah." He inhales and holds his breath, then exhales. "The scent of truth on you isn't so bad, Marrrcus. I rather like it. Along with what you just stated, yes I do. Very much." He smiles. "Makes me wonder what the future can hold, what can be held within my paws. What if I said your dreams can come true, hm?"
"W-what? That's, that's impossible. I... I don't understand. What would you do, carve out my brain and stick it into another body? It wouldn't fit, I'm not stupid."
Mist laughs at that one. "Were it only that simple. But, with the methods I've got access to, it is indeed possible, through another route. You would keep some parts of your body. Though, not much." He inhales a few more times, savoring the scent of this human, memorizing it. Finally, the one he's been searching for. Apparently he was looking in all the wrong places, he was ready to give up.
"Well, uh. That's cool. But I need to get going, I need to go home..."
Mist gives that a wide, sharp smile. "Home? I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime. Do you really want to say no?"
"No... I mean, yes. Yes, I have to say no. I'm sorry, mister... I just..."
Mist is already erasing his own presence at the station, and filling its sentient AI with footage showing Marcus leaving for home, copied and slightly altered from the last time he left. He notices him staring at a camera in the upper corner of the storage room. Suddenly, he realizes what Marcus just said. No? That hurts like a slap. Anger comes out, as it always does. Anger is useful.
" No?" He bares his teeth and speaks quickly, "y_ou have no **_idea** how much I hate the word no ." He growls deeply and leans forward, pointing up at the camera. " It doesn't see you. I was never here, and you already went home." He pokes his own skull with a clawed finger. "My wetware's military grade, top revision three, secret class. You're coming with me."
Marcus's eyes grow wide. "What? No way!" The little runt is building up anger of his own. "I'm staying right here!" he says, backing up against his floor polisher.
"Let me tell you something, Marrrcus." Mist says. "Your body, as it is right now, is of very little concern to me. It is merely a life support system for a brain that I want. You're definitely coming with me to my ship." He turns and glances at the door. The emergency lock light goes dark.
"I see your hesitation, however. You want to stay," he says. "So. Hold out the pieces you want to leave behind," Mist snarls. "And I will cut them off." He takes a big step and reaches forward, grabbing him by the neck, he yanks his body and flings it toward the door. "Walk..."