18

"He's useless." The scientist set down his clipboard, letting it clatter noisily against the metallic surface of the exam room table. "He's not giving us anything else. It's strange, but... not completely uncommon."

She crossed her arms, tapping a perfectly manicured finger against her elbow - bright red on blinding white. "You're certain there's no chance of rehabilitation?"

"Highly unlikely," the man replied, pushing his glasses up his round, stubby nose. She recoiled inwardly at the giant pores, but showed no sign of discomfort as he continued. "It'll cost us more to try and rehabilitate him - with only a 15% chance of success - than it would to just replace him. There are other candidates."

"None with abilities as strong as his," she replied with a frown. Her cold eyes scanned over Grigori's thin frame, hunched over in his chair. He didn't need to look up to know when her eyes were on him; they were ice pressed against his skin. His head hurt.

"Fine," she said with a deep sigh, the disappointment weighing her voice. "I want a replacement by tomorrow morning. There are new areas of interest that we need to investigate, and we can't afford a delay."

"Certainly," the ruddy-faced man replied. From where he sat, Grigori could smell the faint scent of alcohol emanating from him. He wondered if she could smell it, too. 

He allowed his mind to grasp onto these little distractions. Anything he could muse on, anything he could let his mind get carried away with, was a welcome distraction. 

It was the only way he'd found to keep himself grounded, even as the visions threatened to drown him like thousand-foot waves in his mind. It was the only barrier keeping them out. He thought about everything to the point of distraction. To the point of insanity.

How long had it been now? 

Months? Weeks? Years? 

Replacement.

That meant that it would all soon end. Grigori wasn't interested in dying. 

He was interested in surviving. 

Otherwise, what was all of it for? The distraction - the insanity? 

He would survive. He would escape. And when he did, he would find the person responsible for it all.