At this point, your automotive troubles were at the back of your mind. You purred, “I’m quite sure I understand your motivations, Dr. Griffin…” Beyond simple flirtation, there was something evident to him behind your words- you’d bought into it. “In fact…I’m interested.”
“Interested…?”
There was some tentative excitement in the doctor’s voice, testing the lengths of your commitment to his noble cause. “You do know that the effects of Monocane are permanent, yes? If this is some mere curiosity of yours, I refuse to entertain it…” Suddenly sober, the doctor sank down into the upholstery.
Summoning your thoughts, the words came out rather succinctly. “I find it unfair.” You sat back in your chair, feeling the warm glow from that fire on your face. “It’s unfair that intelligent, moral people such as ourselves are cast out from society. We suffer- and from whose hands is this injustice dealt?”
The doctor nodded in sollem recognition of an idea he himself had relented time and again and again. “From those in power, my dear.” Regardless of your own achievements being diminutive in comparison to his, Dr. Griffin saw you on the same level he saw himself. “The two of us…We’re common people in the grand scheme of things. Doing work for the good of mankind…”
Glowering, he gazed out bitterly at some sinister, sagging shell of a palace on the outskirts of town. “Unlike some scientists, hiding away up there in their high tower…never emerging, never to meet with the common people.”
“Does that sound fair to you?”
You found some delicious, manic contrast in that- the humility with the egoism, the drive for power and self proclaimed pure hearted motivations.
“No.” You crooned, “Not at all.”
And there was this silent, knowing look the two of you exchanged. He grabbed the suitcase. You were in.
“While the suggested route of administration for Monocane is subcutaneous injection for higher bioavailability…” He explained, “I don’t see why oral administration would be any less effective.” Wrapping the ampule in a white towel from the sweating ice bucket, Dr. Griffin snapped it open with grace you only see from butchers slaughtering animals in one swift movement.
“Do you have a toast in mind?”
Watching as the emerald green liquid drained into a forgotten whiskey glass, you pondered the thought as he then poured himself a glass of the leftover liquor. For the sake of commemorating this event, this sort of thing seemed most fitting. Smiling, you lifted the glass in the air.
“To power.”
“To power!”
Clink.
Watching with fanaticism as you downed the liquid, he studied your expression. “I’m sure two like-minded individuals such as ourselves could accomplish so much together…” Letting out a sharp, psychotic laugh at himself, he rambled with fanaticism. “We could go on a reign of terror, my dear. A few murders of great men, of meager men- just to show we make no distinction…” Although you couldn't see the intensity in his eyes, his words were dripping with tangible ardor. “How does robbing a bank sound? Perhaps…orchestrating a train crash?”
He listed off heinous crimes the way one may prattle off thrilling vacation destinations, and that enchanted you. Dr. Griffin grasped your hand to bond the proximity, pulling you closer so that your faces were inches apart as you murmured something in agreement.
“Precisely! You’ll just love it! The power you hold…the power to rule. The world will grovel at your feet with merely…” Caressing your knuckles down your hand, Dr. Griffin murmured with an odd romanticism. “the power you possess in your little, invisible finger.”
The effects came upon you over a matter of hours. A paleing at the extremities: fawn, blending into tawny, blending into alabaster, bending into, well…nothing at all! Electrifying anticipation permeated the room, dashing any possibility of sleep.
It was that Bonnie and Clyde flavor of vigilante justice - a formula, really. A weary, down on their luck traveler looking for guidance meets an intelligent, charismatic leader prattling off idealistic, violent rhetoric at twenty miles per hour, taking into account shared motivations…
Just as the final smoldering ember of the fire died, and the first rays of morning light began trickling through the window, the process was complete. Cradling what remained of your cheek, the doctor cooed. “If only you could see yourself now…” You leaned into the leathery, trailing after his touch to stand.
This wasn’t romance. The strange force that drew the two of you together was something much more twisted and obsessive than that. What were once your fingers went to the buttons of Dr. Griffin’s collar, and his to the waist of your shirt. Without words, there was some presumption that this would happen. No time to waste- you needed to undress each other. Slow and calculated, nothing about your movements were like those of lovers.
“I think…” The doctor mused. “We'll soon put the world right now, you and I.” The clink of a belt, trousers falling to the ground…watches unclasping, the removal of gloves…
A pair of glasses sat on the table. Two sets of shoes waited by the door. A pile of still warm clothing and stark white bandages mingled on the hardwood.