Eternal Undying Chronicles

Chapter 46 Deranged Doctor

Alicarde awoke to the cold bite of steel restraints against his wrists and the dull hum of fluorescent lights overhead. His vision blurred, and the room swam before his eyes, slowly coming into focus.

'Where the hell am I? My head hurts like hell.' He thought, disoriented.

The stark white walls of the underground facility made for a vividly sharp contrast with the sterile, clinical smell that permeated the air. The place seemed like a research lab—or rather, it was a lab.

He tried to move, but his body was too weak, the effects of the Whitewood ash and the unknown chemicals still coursing through his veins. The restraints had some kind of magic engraved into them. His gaze fell on the shadows to the side, sensing the familiar yet ever-aggressive presence of Wrath.

"I don't suppose you want to help me get out of this restraint, Wrath ol' buddy?" Alicarde spoke to his familiar.

The familiar merely gazed back at him coldly, its violet eyes still filled with its unshakable wrath.

"Guess not, another time then" Alicarde said to the bicorn on the shadows.

Alicarde heard a door open and close, forcing him to turn his eyes to the sound, followed by the sound of footsteps. A figure in a white lab coat approached, their face obscured by the harsh overhead light. The figure stopped at a table, picking up Alicarde's phone and examining it with meticulous care.

Alicarde tried to think of where he had seen this man. After mulling it over for a few seconds, it finally clicked.

He finally recognized him—this was the guy he had bumped into on campus. He had the scent of ethanol, so he was a doctor after all.

The doctor was a deranged yet disturbingly focused figure. His wild, white hair defied gravity, and his wide, intense eyes magnified by thick glasses. The stained lab coat adorned with straps and metal contraptions hinted at bizarre unhinged experiments. And he was about to be the next lab rat.

"Just my luck," he lamented under his breath.

The doctor finished inspecting his phone, flipping it over a few times before attaching a round, metallic device to its back.

"Take this. I've tampered with the tracker. Drop it at the location I specified," the figure instructed a subordinate, who promptly took the phone and left the room. Alicarde remained calm—something this minor wouldn't shake him, not after everything he'd been through.

Turning his attention back to Alicarde, the doctor's expression was unreadable.

"I've taken precautions to ensure no one finds you. Your friends will be led on a wild goose chase, far from here, so don't expect any help."

Alicarde ignored him, his gaze steady on the deranged-looking man.

The doctor busied himself with his instruments, talking more to himself than Alicarde.

"You remind me of my sister, you know. She was about your age when she died. Except unlike you, she stayed dead. Imagine my surprise—I had just declared you dead, and like a miracle, you woke up."

'Hmmm, declared me dead? Was he the doctor from the night of my death?' Alicarde thought, piecing the details together.

Scratching his wild hair and adjusting his glasses, the doctor continued. "I watched you for many days. A cadaver... no, my Frankenstein."

Alicarde felt more creeped out than afraid, tugging at the restraints. But the material was far too strong, and worse, he was still weak. He needed time to regain his strength.

"Who are you, and why the hell did you kidnap me?" Alicarde's voice carried cautious curiosity.

The doctor scratched his head, an embarrassed smile crossing his face.

"Ah, where are my manners? I am Doctor Victor Stein. Or so the world knows me. My real name, however, is Victor Frankenstein the IV."

Alicarde attempted to break free again, but his body felt heavy, still searing with the heat of the Whitewood Ash injected into him.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me... wait, Frankenstein, like the monster?" Alicarde asked.

The doctor smiled, a deep sadness in his eyes.

"Yes, like the monster my ancestor created. No, he saved him. Yet he was rejected by the people, but most of all by the Truth Association," the doctor sighed, his voice laced with bitterness.

"We lost everything. But you... you are the key to restoring my family's name."

Alicarde didn't quite follow, though the mention of the Truth Association piqued his interest.

'Did this guy really have a connection to Frankenstein from the books? His name is the same. And he mentioned the Truth Association…'

As he pondered, the doctor patiently waited, his deranged smile never fading.

"So you work with the Strigoi, then? Is this revenge?" Alicarde's tone grew sharp, filled with resentment.

The doctor looked puzzled. "The Strigoi? Ah, you mean that creature that made its way to Evergreen recently. No, I have no affiliation with them or the their associates."

He placed a hand on his chin. "Although you seem to harbor resentment toward them. My advice? Let it go. That creature has already bought out the government and the underworld's upper echelons."

Laughing, the doctor adjusted his lab coat. "You're better off staying here with me, making the ultimate scientific breakthrough."

He poked Alicarde's cheek playfully, a sinister smile on his face. "So young, just eighteen—the same age my dear Helen was when she died."

There was a sorrowful look in his deranged eyes.

The doctor's voice became distant and melancholic. "She was everything to me. My only family after our parents were killed. Brilliant, kind, and so full of life. But then... she was taken from me.

A victim of a common disease."

He paused, his eyes darkening as he relived the memory. Alicarde remained silent, listening.

"I threw myself into my studies—alchemy, medicine. I believed that if I could unlock the secrets of life and death, I could bring her back. Restore our family's honor. But every experiment, every discovery, led me nowhere.

I wanted to prove to those scum in the Truth Association that my ancestor was right. To spite death. I was teetering on the edge of madness, just about to give up."

The doctor's gaze returned to Alicarde, filled with a strange mix of sorrow and obsession.

"And then you appeared—a miracle. A man who came back from the dead. You are the key, Alicarde. Strange, though, I don't remember your name before... did you change it? Hmmm...

no, I must be mistaken."

The doctor looked at him, almost hungrily. "What a wonder you are. With you, I can finally uncover the secrets of life and death."

Alicarde's eyes narrowed, his voice weak but defiant. "You're insane, you damn nut job. If I get out of these restraints, you're dead—old man or not, I'll beat the shit out of you."

The doctor giggled, a high-pitched, deranged laugh. "If you get out," he replied smugly.

Alicarde felt his blood boiling. He didn't have time to dwell on his hatred for the Strigoi—not with this lunatic looming over him.

Victor shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "You don't have a choice. I will unlock your secrets, even if I have to tear you apart to do it."

Turning away, the doctor's thoughts drifted back to his sister.

"She was so young, so full of promise. I wonder every day if I could have saved her—if I had just been a little smarter, a little faster. But I was powerless then. I refuse to be powerless now.

We lost everything. But now, I will regain it all, and more. I owe everything to the master for his kindness. And you are the key."

Alicarde struggled harder. He needed to escape this madman. Though relieved that Victor wasn't working with the Strigoi, he wasn't about to let himself be used in this twisted experiment.

Victor walked to a shelf lined with vials and syringes. Carefully selecting one, he examined the iridescent liquid with satisfaction.

"This will help keep you compliant," he said, approaching Alicarde with the syringe.

"I can't have you resisting. Let's begin by testing the limits of your body. I've developed an elixir that awakens innate abilities—still a work in progress."

He glanced at Alicarde, his eyes gleaming with madness. "The only issue is that everyone who's used it has died. But don't worry—you won't. So, it's a win-win."

His maniacal laughter echoed through the room.

The doctor caressed Alicarde's hair lovingly, making his skin prickle with disgust. The look in Victor's eyes didn't help.

"Shush, my dear Alicarde. The trial will be over before you know it. So, relax—I'll just be collecting all the data."

Alicarde's skin crawled. "You damn creep! I'm not your dear! Stop calling me that!"

Despite his weakened state, Alicarde struggled, but Victor's grip was firm as he injected the glowing liquid into Alicarde's arm. A cold numbness spread through his body, his vision darkening.

As the world faded, he heard Victor's voice, soft and distant. "Heheheh, time for some experiments. Someone, move him to the next room."

Alicarde could feel the magic in the substance coursing through his veins, along with the burning sting of the Whitewood Ash. Those were the last sensations he felt as he slipped into unconsciousness once more.