Chapter 20: Chapter 17

The ghoul pushed against the cage, weak and sluggish, drool pooling from its mouth. Lidless eyes rolled lazily, noseless cavity snuffling while razor-sharp teeth hung agape. Chains pulled taut, reeling the creature back every time it struggled. 

“This your wife, then?” Colin stepped back, hands trembling, fingers brushing against his revolver. 

The Doctor glanced down at the detective’s hands, but returned his gaze to the ghoul quickly after. “My beloved, but not my wife. We never married officially. She is sedated right now, and should be of no harm to you.” 

Colin swallowed hard, keeping his movements slow. “This is what your research is about then?” 

“Indeed,” the Doctor said, nodding. “I am fascinated by ghoulification. How it happens, what it does to the human mind, and how it changes the body.” 

“Is that all?” Colin turned to the Doctor, avoiding contact with the ghoul. 

He nodded again. “As of right now, yes. There was a time that I considered the possibility of reversing it, but... that is a fantasy, I found. It is a degenerative mutation. The body simply cannot fight against the toxins that cause this. Preventative measures could possibly be taken, but that requires further study.” 

“What did Jackal want with this research? They want to create more ghouls or something?” 

The Doctor shrugged, a personal favorite of the half-breed. “In all probability. They revere mutants, and ghoulification is the most beastly of these. They will achieve this not from my research, if that is the case. I believe they were more interested in retrieving Lilac.” 

Colin blinked a few times, cocking his head to the side. “Lilac?” 

“My beloved.” He motioned to the cage. “That was her name, before her transformation.” 

Scratching the back of his neck, Colin looked away. “Not to, uh, offend, but it’s rare that someone normal would develop feelings for... well, a half-breed.” 

“In her own way, she was not what one would consider normal.” The Doctor took a long, shivering breath. “She was a traveling doctor, once. Resided above ground, going from city to city, helping who she could. When she learned of our plight down here, she took it upon herself to help.” 

“And then you two met?” Rubbing his eyes, Colin forced himself to look at the ghoul that had once been known as Lilac. 

“She treated my injuries after I got into an altercation with some Enforcers. When I recovered, I found myself unable to leave her alone. I made an effort to protect her, and in return she gave me her time. Taught me how to read, how to learn, and eventually we bonded. By that point, she had no known intention of leaving the slums, but perhaps she should have.” He stepped up to the cage, pressing his face against its cold bars, eyes shut. “It took only a year before signs of ghoulification appeared. Thankfully, she retained her mental acuity for several weeks into the process, and helped me design this cage and the drug I use to keep her sedated.” 

The ghoul pushed its face against his, teeth scraping against the bars, salivating. 

Stepping back, the Doctor scowled, putting his hands in the pockets of his stained lab coat. “You can imagine how difficult it was to transfer her here, using far too much of the drug and leading her by the neck like a broken pet.” Shaking his head, he turned from the cage. “But I did it. I did it, and would do it again. For her. Though I must admit, even if Jackal is taken care of, I rather like it out here. There are so many fascinating subjects to look at when my progress on ghoulification comes to a standstill.” 

Colin clicked his tongue, thinking back to the factory. “Yeah, I can imagine. Saw quite a few of them on our way here.” 

“Yes, Caitlin told me how you encountered Darrick.” Seeing the confused look on Colin’s face, he continued. “The black blob using masks for faces.” 

“Why... Darrick?” 

Another shrug from the Doctor. “Why not Darrick? It is a fine name. A tad arbitrary, but all names are.” 

Colin shook his head. “Right. Anyway, back to, um... Jackal?” 

“What else do you want to know? I fear that my knowledge of him is stretching thin.” 

Cupping his chin, Colin screwed his face in thought. “Well, any idea where we might be able to find him?” 

“Ah, now that I can answer.” Stepping past Colin, he motioned for the detective to follow him outside. “Last I was aware, Jackal owned a butcher’s shop somewhere in district twelve. It was within the north-east quadrant, if I remember correctly. Do be careful, as finding him is more difficult than him finding you.” 

They walked to the balcony’s railing, leaning against it as their conversation died down. For a few minutes, Colin stared into the darkness, letting his mind wander off, taking in his surroundings. 

“I have a question for you now, detective.” 

Blinking a few times, Colin spoke slowly, pulled suddenly from his thoughts. “I suppose that's only fair. You’re not going to ask for a favor in return, are you?” 

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“I need nothing from you,” the Doctor said. “Caitlin’s clothes are stained with blood, notably around the neck. What happened?” 

“Ah, that.” Rubbing his eyes, Colin pulled out his cigs. “You mind if I smoke?” 

“Not at all. May I partake?” The Doctor held a hand out, his expression flat. 

Clicking his tongue, Colin pulled out two cigs, slipping one between the Doctor’s fingers. Lighting up the nicotine sticks, Colin answered. “She tore out an Enforcer’s neck... with her teeth.” 

The Doctor took a long drag, eyebrows furrowing. “We are not the closest acquaintances, but I have known her long enough to say that does not sound like Caitlin.” 

“Yeah, well it wasn’t really our idea. Bastard jumped us with a gun. Barely got out alive... pretty sure they were part of Jackal’s fucked up family.” Scowling, Colin took another drag. “I was cornered, and she saved me. Blew his knee out before dragging him to the ground. She was... snarling, maybe? Whatever it was, she killed him.” He shivered, clamping his mouth shut. 

The Doctor nodded along, “I see. Were her eyes dilated? Did her claws or fangs protrude more than usual? Did she growl or crawl on all fours?” 

“I- what?” Colin, taken aback, shook his head. 

“Detective... you are aware of the difference between ghouls and half-ghouls, correct?” The Doctor snuffed his cig on the balcony’s railing, putting his full attention on Colin. 

Taking a final huff of his own cig before snuffing it, Colin returned the Doctor’s attention. “Of course. Ghouls are normal people who go through the process of ghoulification, and half-breeds are their offspring. I also know that most of... well, your kind, aren’t typically born willingly.” 

Raising an eyebrow, the Doctor sighed. “Please tell me that you are aware of more than that, given that this is your job.” 

Colin’s jaw tightened. “I know enough to do my job. I’m not a researcher or scholar or whatever other styling would be interested in ghouls. And besides, this is more of the Enforcers territory.” 

“I see,” the Doctor said. “Then I shall explain, so you may have a better understanding of what happened. You see, ghoulification is a degenerative disease. It transforms the body in horrendous ways, and even worse destroys one’s mind. This would be bad enough, but a side effect that is not often talked about is what it does to the afflicted person’s genetics. Females affected by ghoulification cannot bear children, but Males can... as you are probably aware.” 

“I wasn’t, but good to know. Means ghouls can’t breed with each other, right?” 

“Yes, but that part is not too important here. What matters is that this change in genetics carries partly over to their children. This is what causes half-breeds and, in rare cases, quarter-breeds. The pronounced features that we have, such as the webbing between our fingers and our pale skin, are unfortunate side effects but are purely aesthetic. The mental degradation, however, still affects us indirectly.” 

Colin’s hand brushed his pistol, an instinctual movement. “In what way? You seem to have kept your sanity pretty well, even in your age.” 

“I said it affects us indirectly. Thankfully, our own affliction is not degenerative, or out of our control. We do not turn into wild beasts like our fathers, but what we carry is what I consider a blood madness. Ingesting enough meat or blood can send us into a state of ferality, pushing us to consume more of it. Our digestive systems are completely functional without meat or blood, and in my opinion, we are better off not partaking in it at all. Even a strong enough smell can activate this state, though tolerances differ between each individual.” 

“And this is what happened to Caitlin? She... she smelled the blood, and was driven to consume more of it?” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Colin sighed. “Just great. Okay, no, that’s fine. She came back to her senses pretty quickly, and I would’ve killed the bastard myself had my shots been better placed.” 

“Then I have all that I need.” Clasping his hands behind his back, the Doctor walked off to the office where Caitlin slept. “I ask that you carry Caitlin to a proper bed before getting some more rest yourself. I will show you a better path out of the dead city tomorrow morning.” He held the door open for Colin. 

Scooching past him, the detective spotted Caitlin still on the floor, snoring a bit louder under his coat. Always so peaceful in her sleep, he thought, walking over and picking her up in his arms. She didn’t stir as he walked her out, glancing at the Doctor one last time. “I’m assuming there are more beds than the one I slept in before?” 

The Doctor shrugged, “Yes, though that is the most comfortable one I have.” 

“Splendid. Oh, and one more question: why don’t you have the webbing that other half-breeds have?” 

The Doctor looked at his hands, admiring them. “I had them removed. Lilac sliced them down the middle, removed the extra skin, and stitched them back up. I could not use delicate medical tools otherwise.” 

“I see.” Then Colin left the office, hearing the door shut behind him. “Why is it that everyone I meet nowadays is so weird?” He whispered the question, Caitlin mumbling back in her sleep. Colin rolled his eyes, “Yeah, don’t worry, you’re probably the most normal one down here.” 

He walked her to the room he had slept in, two doors down, sliding the door open as quietly as he could. Laying her in the bed, he looked around for a minute, making sure there weren’t any blankets to replace his coat. When he was sure that there weren't, he left the room, not looking back or listening to the young girl’s mumbling. 

Heading next door, he found a room that was more cramped, acting partly as storage but retaining the old bed that had been there since the cathedral’s original furnishings. Setting his hat and shoes on the top of a crate next to the bed, he crashed into the old mattress, the pillow hard and lumpy. Regardless, he was exhausted, and closed his eyes. Keeping his revolver in hand, hidden beneath the pillow, Colin fell into darkness. 

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