Chương 136: Chapter 135 – Dying to Tell You a Secret

Trula sat clutching the now cold cup of emberbrew between his hands as if it were a lifeline. The ceramic mug was chipped along the rim, a small crack running down one side from years of use. The liquid inside had gone bitter and stale, but he held it anyway, fingers wrapped tight around it as though it could anchor him to the present.

The dim lamp in the corner cast a warm, uneven glow across the cluttered apartment, illuminating stacks of papers, an overturned shoe, and a half-folded blanket draped over the couch. The air smelled faintly of old coffee, dust, and the remnants of whatever takeout he had eaten earlier. He looked over at Elios, not sure where to begin. His throat tightened as he closed his eyes, doing his best to fight the images that flashed before him. His ears echoed the hybrid's anguished pleas… but I don't want to die.

"You alright?" Elios asked softly. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he feared the wrong word might shatter Trula completely.

"You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I guess you could say that," Trula replied, more sober than his previous attempts at conversation. His tongue felt thick, his mouth dry. How long have we been sitting here? he asked himself. One, maybe two hours? The apartment felt suspended in time, the hum of the refrigerator the only reminder that the world had not stopped.

"Well, you seem to be sobering up at least. That is a good thing," Elios snickered. He shifted in the worn armchair across from Trula, the springs creaking under his weight.

"I still would not trust you to get behind the wheel or operate heavy machinery, but considering the amount of alcohol you consumed tonight, I would not be surprised if you showed up to work in the morning with a buzz." He laughed, the sound bouncing off the cramped walls.

"Tomorrow," he looked at his watch, "or shall I say later today, might call for a sick day."

"No such thing in my department. You show up sick, call in dead, and depending on how long until your funeral, they may tell you to come in anyway," Trula said grimly. His voice carried a hollow edge, as if the humor had been scraped out of him.

"Well, now that I know you are alright and not going to wind up choking on your own vomit, I think I need to head home," Elios said, standing up. His shoes scuffed against the worn carpet.

"Elios, wait." Trula's voice cracked with desperation, sharp enough to make Elios freeze mid-step. Elios felt his heart quicken, a faint pulse of dread rising in his chest.

"Yeah, buddy," Elios said, turning to face him.

"Do you need something? Maybe a glass of water…"

"No, please sit down." Trula's hands trembled as he set the emberbrew cup on the scratched coffee table.

"There are some things I have been trying to tell you all night, but I could never…" He paused, taking a deep breath that shuddered through his whole body.

"I could never find the right words to say any of it." Elios, worried that Trula was going to sprout a bunch of I love yous again, waved him off.

"We can talk tomorrow, when you are in a better frame of mind," Elios said, turning once again for the door.

"No, Elios, I have to do this now." Trula's voice was raw, stripped of any pretense.

"I will never be in a better frame of mind, especially with what I did. It is eating at me from the inside out, Elios. I can feel it devouring me." Elios moved back to the chair and sat down slowly, the weight of Trula's words settling heavily in his chest. The apartment felt smaller, the air thicker, as if the walls themselves were bracing for what was coming.

"What did you do, Trula?" he asked softly. Trula sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"Well, today I had to kill," he said, fighting back tears. His voice trembled, barely holding together.

"Not because I wanted to, but because I felt I had to." Elios took in a sharp breath. His fingers curled around the armrest.

"Who did you kill, Trula?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"It was not a who, well not in our sense, but more of a what." Trula's gaze drifted toward the window, where the streetlight outside cast a pale glow through the blinds.

"Wentworth was going to…" He broke off, swallowing hard. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Wentworth what?" Elios asked, trying to make sense of this. His stomach tightened.

"What did he do, Trula? Did he hurt you?"

"No. It would have been easier if he had," Trula said, wiping away a tear with the back of his hand.

"Wentworth was going to dissect a fairy elven hybrid while it was still alive."

"A fairy elven hybrid?" Elios repeated, disbelief thick in his voice. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"What? A fairy elven hybrid? How? I knew about the fairies, but elves too?" He shook his head slowly.

"I do not understand, Trula."

"Wentworth sent a team with Jimmick in the lead to the fairy realm," Trula explained. His voice steadied slightly as he slipped into recounting the events.

"They met the hybrid there, who took them to the elven realm. He wanted them to round up some test subjects to create some virus to wipe them out." Trula ran his hand through his hair, fingers trembling.

"Turns out one of the fairies Mordak was looking for was hiding out in the elven realm."

"So how did the hybrid end up on Wentworth's dissection table?" Elios asked, still not sure how this all played out. His pulse thudded in his ears.

"That was Jimmick's idea. Once he knew about the elven realm, he figured why not take an elf too, sick bastard that he is," Trula said, looking at the floor. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"From what I understand, the hybrid went to his elven friend. Jimmick went with him with the hopes of catching that fairy." He sighed, the sound heavy and defeated.

"When the fairy escaped yet again, he took the hybrid in her place. They figured some fairy genetic material was better than no genetic material."

"So that is the delivery Wentworth and Hardscrabble were talking about. They are planning to reboot the Everybody Needs a Friend campaign in the other realms," Elios remarked, the pieces falling into place. His stomach churned.

"I euthanized the hybrid, Elios," Trula said, tears visibly falling down his cheeks.

"I talked to him. I watched the light go out of his eyes as he slipped away." His voice cracked, the memory ripping through him like a blade.

"Trula, I cannot even imagine," Elios said, rubbing his chin, trying to figure out what Mordak's endgame was. The room felt colder.

"It gets worse, Elios," Trula said, looking up at him. His eyes were red, swollen, haunted.

"How does it get worse than that?" Elios asked, his stomach knotting tighter.

"Wentworth has another specimen. I heard him talking to two of Jimmick's men when they came back from the elven realm. He seemed so proud of himself," Trula said, looking off into the distance. His voice grew faint.

"Evidently, after the hybrid took Jimmick and his men to the elves' house, Jimmick wanted the elf to tell him where the fairy was. When he would not cooperate, he…" Trula paused to wipe his eyes. His hands shook violently.

"He tortured and killed his dogs, forcing him to watch. He said he took his time, made sure the dogs felt every cut. Then when that did not work, well…" He swallowed hard.

"Well, he beat the elf's wife. After the elf finally told him where she was, he slit her throat just to make the elf suffer even more." Elios took in a sharp breath, running his hand through his hair. His skin prickled with horror.

"Where is the elf now?" he asked.

"Locked up in a holding facility down the hall from the lab. It is where Wentworth keeps all his specimens. They are locked up with guards to protect the assets, as he likes to say," Trula said, his voice wavering.

"He is the first project in the morning." Trula's voice broke.

"Elios, we need to do something. We cannot let Wentworth do this." His eyes filled with desperation, pleading for something, anything.

"Trula, buddy, I do not see what we can do. Are the guards armed?" Elios asked. He already knew the answer. He had needed a guard just to get into the lab tonight. There was no way he would be getting into that holding facility.

"Yes, they are armed, quite heavily. No one gets in or out without Wentworth's say so," Trula said, looking down at the floor again. His shoulders sagged.

"I wish I could help, but my security pass does not function the way it used to. Hardscrabble has me on a tight leash. There is no way I could even bluff my way in," Elios said with regret.

"Do yourself a favor, buddy. Call in sick. Do not even show up. Find yourself a new job."

"You know as well as I do, once you start working there, you leave in one way," Trula said, frustration mounting.

"They own us, lock, stock, and barrel, Elios. You know that." Elios gritted his teeth.

"Yeah, I am aware. But do yourself a favor. Forget about the elf. Find a reason to be late. Find a reason not to be there. Just do not put yourself in a position you do not need to be in. Hell, you do not deserve to be in." Elios stood and walked over to Trula, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Things will change. Trust me on that. Things will change."

"Elios, if we continue to do nothing, how can things ever change?" Trula asked, looking up at him.

"Doesn't it make us as bad as they are, if we just wait for things to change? Someone has to step up and do the right thing."

"Buddy, things will change… bit by bit, piece by piece," Elios said, giving Trula a wry smile.

"That is one thing I can promise you!"