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STORYLINE: “So they’re vampires,” Plague said flatly, breaking the silence before anyone could romanticize it. “Ancient, ridiculously dramatic vampires who decided to cosplay as mob bosses. Great story pitch. It’s like 'The Godfather' meets 'Interview with the Vampire.' Coppola would weep. Can we get back to the part where we save our friend?”
The hologram of the speakeasy collapsed in a shower of static, leaving behind the coppery whiff of spilled blood and the phantom scent of gunsmoke in the air. The workshop fell silent again, the gentle ticking of Minjo’s brass contraptions marking time while everyone ignored him.
Ghost’s hands were a blur, cross-referencing Prohibition-era mob hierarchies with everything he could scrape from the net about Monstrum. Minjo, her back to everyone, was already sketching a rescue plan on a nearby whiteboard. Echo sat cross-legged on the floor beside the Black Snakeskin Box, a tangle of wires and circuit boards spread around her as she coaxed its strange power core to life.
Plague stretched, cracked his neck, and muttered, "Okay, I'll just be over here in my corner. Quietly creating a miracle cure for a biological horror, like I’m Alexander Fleming. No biggie. Don't mind me."
No one did.
He snatched the vial of claws, and the tube containing strands of Jihoon’s old hair from the workbench. “I’m starting the analysis. Yell if the time machine spits out Al Capone’s ghost.”
His corner of the workshop looked like a cybernetic parasite grafted onto an antique heart: chrome instruments threaded through brass skeletons, his bioreactors blinking among Minjo’s clockwork arms. His parents paid her obscene rent for the privilege, -- hoping her discipline might rub off on their prodigal heir. They saw Minjo as a future leader, a sound investment. Plague just saw her as the only person unimpressed by how big his inheritance would be.
He laid out the samples. The first: a few black strands from the paper crane —Jihoon before Lathandro. The control. The second: an obsidian claw clipped from a bandaged hand in the hospital—the mutation. He whistled softly. “From origami to armageddon. Let’s see what you’re made of, buddy.”
A flicker of memory cut the grin short. Guilt churned in his stomach. He remembered leaning against the lockers, voice dripping with practiced disdain as the new, beautiful Jihoon walked by. "Stupid femboy," he’d said, too loud, too easy. "Bet he hacked his DNA."
The words tasted like poison now, because they were a lie meant to hide a truth. The real criminal biohacker of Jae Won University was him. He was the one obsessed with gene-hacking. For months he’d been running back-alley CRISPR protocols on himself, trying to code sharper cheekbones, a clearer complexion, anything for an edge in the cutthroat world of biotech grants. But his body had fought back, rejecting it all: rashes, migraines, a week shaking with fever. He had failed. He built a containment suit to keep the evidence and the shame sealed away.
So when Jihoon emerged from Club Apophis remade, and radiant, Plague’s envy had been swift and vicious. He’d projected his own failure onto Jihoon, painting him as a cheater. He’d pushed his friend away right when Jihoon needed him most, and that path ended at the stadium with Jihoon screaming, engulfed in fire.
This was penance.
He would find a cure. A cure for Jihoon first, but maybe a cure for himself, too. He’d save his friend, fix his own flawed biohack, and be hailed as the man who finally conquered DNA-rewrite rejection. He allowed the daydream to flicker, his speech accepting the Nobel Prize as cameras flashed. He grinned at the thought.
“Science first. Glory later,” he told the sequencer. “You and me, let’s make history."
The sequencer hummed to life, running a full genomic sequence. The results for the control sample were clean. Unremarkable. Perfectly boringly human. He saved the file, fed a sliver of the obsidian claw into the machine, and waited. Then repeated the process.
Hours bled into a blur. The distant chatter about safe zones and infiltration routes faded into white noise. By the time the first hints of dawn stained the workshop’s high windows, he was staring at the screen, rubbing his eyes, his mind refusing to process what the data said.
Finally, he pushed back from his station, his chair groaning in the quiet. “Uh, guys?”
His voice was strained. Minjo turned from the whiteboard, her marker frozen mid-sentence.
“I’ve got the results,” Plague said, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no difference.”
“What do you mean, no difference?” Minjo demanded, marching over.
“I mean before and after—identical. No viral markers, no synthetic code, no biohack signature. Either the universe is pranking me, or Jihoon’s DNA is the same old boring model.” He held up a finger. “And before you say contamination, I ran it six times.”
Minjo crossed her arms. “That’s illogical. We saw the claws. Your process is flawed. Do it again.”
“Six times, Minjo. Seven if you count the one where I forgot to breathe.” He sighed, dramatic. “My methodology is sound. The equipment is calibrated perfectly. The data is the data. Maybe you should accept that instead of assuming I’m an idiot!”
“I’m not calling you an idiot! I’m saying the result is impossible. There must be an error in the process.”
Before the argument could catch fire, a soft chime interrupted. Ghost lifted his gloved hands, holographic text drifting in a calm blue light above them. A simple question floated in the air: "Did you test the mitochondrial DNA?"
Plague froze.
Mitochondrial DNA, -- the power source of every living cell. He hadn’t even considered it.
He shot Ghost a grudging look. “Oh sure, Hologram Hands gets the win." He shook his head and muttered, "Sheeze, why is he always like that?"
He turned back to his console, frustration replaced by focus. An hour later, as the new analysis populated the screen, his jaw went slack. Half of Jihoon’s cells looked normal—powered by the same messy mitochondria as everyone else’s. The rest were something else entirely. His scanners couldn’t classify the energy source; the instruments simply read it as undefined.
The data made his blood run cold. “What the hell are you, Jihoon?”
The others gathered around as he stumbled back, his heart hammering against the metal ribs of his suit.
“What? What is it?” Minjo asked, her voice sharp with alarm.
“I found something alright. This isn't a bio-hack,” Plague breathed, his voice trembling with awe and terror. He pointed a shaking finger at the cellular map. “Jihoon isn’t being rewritten or infected. He’s a chimera. Half human… half something that doesn’t match any known terrestrial bio-signature. Two systems running in one body, and it looks like one of them wants the stage all to itself.”
A heavy silence settled over the workshop, the machines ticking like distant clocks.
Echo’s voice, quiet but certain, broke it. “Then we’d better hurry.”
Plague looked back at the screen, the dueling biological signals flickering like rival heartbeats. His voice came out soft, almost a joke. “Well,” he said, “guess we finally proved 'Meteor Strike' really is out of this world.”
No one laughed.
The glow from the data deepened, and for a breath, it felt as though the thing inside Jihoon was staring back.
Halloween Season is upon us. But as you know, dear readers, Halloween is everyday on BishieStyleSL. lol. I was so lucky to have items from three events perfectly suited for our handsome but flawed boy Plague. ...From the brand new event Camp Syndicate, (which inspired by cabin-in-the-woods slasher horror movies), is the coolest icky scar wound material effect I have ever seen in SL, -- Decay by Cubic Cherry. It's a BOM tattoo layer with 3 layers of bom plus materials effect for EVO X mesh heads. You can adjust the layers to best suit your skintone for max effect. Using well positioned face lights can enhance the effect, I used red and cyan. ...From the Engine Room is the gorgeous SOMNIUM Automaton MK2 mesh body, with a, outer frame and skeletal inner frame. The PBR materials are excellent and it poses well. It comes in 6 different texture styles. I used the black and red Enforcers for this image. Just wonderful. ... From the Androgyny Event is the Maledictus Lacrimosa BOM makeup style that worked great on my male EvoX mesh head! I love the shadow below the eye, and upper lid with a metallic loud color. Also at AE is the fun Prismo Aura attachment doubling as DNA molecules in my image. The hovering rocks move, some float, some spin in place. It comes with a texture hud for 8 colors and 7 glow colors.
On him, Plague:
Aura: TERIYAKI Prismo [mesh] (Androgyny Event)(499L)
Hair: Dura U122 -A: Men's [mesh]
BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky. Scar shown at midnight with local lights for materials effect.
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