The Tapestry of the End

In the corner of a dark, half-empty room sat a young man, chained to the wall. His lips were dry and cracked, and he had been staring at the same spot for hours without moving an inch. All this time, he had only one thought running through his mind:

"I want to kill him. I want him dead. I'll tear that bastard apart."

Suddenly, footsteps were heard outside the door.

"He's coming," the prisoner thought.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and a blond man entered the room.

"Hello! How are you? Everything okay?"

"Screw you with those questions."

The young man said monotonously, turning his lifeless gaze to Morris.

"Please, don't be so aggressive. Just a few more experiments, and it will all be over! You'll be completely free, I'll even give you some money!"

The blond scientist smiled energetically. But in response, he received only a spit in his direction.

"You know, that's quite uncultured."

Morris said, easily dodging.

"Screw you."

"We won't come to a constructive dialogue. Well then... we'll resort to violence."

The scientist quickly approached the prisoner. Seeing this, the young man tried to lunge at him, but...

Clink

The movement was stopped by the chains, and he fell, hitting the floor.

"The attempt was good, but the result is disappointing. What were you even hoping for?"

Approaching closely, Morris pinned the stunned young man and injected something into his neck.

"Good night, though you'll only sleep for a few dozen minutes..."

The monotonous phrase reached the young man as his consciousness plunged into darkness.

=====

With unimaginable effort, the young man opened his eyes again, finding himself in the familiar room. Despite the high temperature of the room, a slight chill ran down his spine as memories of hellish pain resurfaced. The previously steady heartbeat seemed to plummet into a bottomless tunnel at the realization of his impending fate.

"You're already awake? That was faster than I expected."

A slightly surprised but calm voice was heard from across the room. The bound prisoner turned his gaze towards the door, where Morris stood, already prepared for the upcoming procedure. His clean and tidy clothes were covered by a white lab coat. Turning his head towards the young man, he slowly and methodically wiped a shiny scalpel with a damp cloth.

"Well, are you ready? Let's start quickly, I received a letter from Baron Larci this morning. The deadlines have been shortened, idiots. And catching your scorching gaze is not a pleasant experience."

Muttering something monotonously to himself, he placed the scalpel on the table with a light thud. Taking a syringe and a small vial filled with a clear liquid, he began to fill it.

"How I hate those clueless bureaucrats. I wonder if those idiots understand anything besides spending money?"

Cursing emotionlessly, he approached the young man. The latter, frozen in anticipation of what was to come, silently watched Morris. The scientist, paying no attention, quickly and lightly injected the liquid.

As soon as it entered the young man's bloodstream, he felt weak and gradually lost the ability to move.

Judging by the effects, it's the same thing he injected me with yesterday. Damn, I can't even move a finger, let alone my whole body. Just give me one chance. Just one chance, and I'll tear you apart.

While the young man lay on the surgical table, thinking about what he would do to Morris, the latter took his small notebook and began jotting down his thoughts:

"Today we will conduct a more thorough autopsy, examine your inner world, so to speak... bad joke... Oh well."

Letting go of his failed joke, he closed his notebook and got to work. The almost complete silence of the room was pierced by the sound of cutting flesh. Morris, working at a rather hurried pace, made a horizontal incision in the young man's abdomen. He opened the wound with a retractor and began to remove the blood. After finishing this task, he set the tools aside and quickly wrote something down. Scribbling something on a sheet, he looked back at the wound.

"Externally, nothing differs from the accepted norms, at least this part of you."

For the next hour, he continued the autopsy, simultaneously collecting samples. After reassembling the young man, Morris began conducting experiments. He compressed and stretched the samples, examined them under a microscope, injected them with essence in all its forms, but nothing. In addition, the scientist conducted experiments with various chemicals — tissue reactions, their interactions, consequences. Once, something even burned. However, judging by his reaction, that was not the expected result. Thus, the next few hours passed.

"This is bad... but it's okay. Who said finding something is easy? Surely there is some unique organ, gland, or something else in other parts of his body. Yes, that's right, I just need to look elsewhere. Why am I panicking?"

With these words, Morris resumed his bloody work. Hour after hour, day after day passed. Once, he decided that the issue was in the bone structure, and, reaching the femur, partially shattered it in a couple of places. Later, analyzing the samples taken, he found nothing again. Another day, the scientist wanted to dissect the young man's lung. After working on it for many hours, he found nothing, only wasted time. Thus, day after day, he examined the young man's body. Heart, liver, second lung, intestines, spine, nerves, circulatory system, skin cells, muscles, bones — everything.

"There's nothing!" the enraged scientist shouted, scattering papers — "There's nothing even in your blood! How is that possible?! You're not from this world... not from this reality... So why!?"

His eyes narrowed, and he finally realized: he was looking for the wrong thing. Maybe he wasn't an anomaly from a biological standpoint but differed in something else.

"Of course! Your soul! How could I forget about that? I'm a damn genius! Hahaha..."

Extremely excited, the scientist ran to a separate cabinet. Throwing open its doors, he began rummaging: "Where are you... where are you? Ah, here!" Throwing out the sheets inside, he pulled out a small black box. Click... the latch made a characteristic sound. The opened lid revealed a small blue stone to Morris. On it, like a work of art from the stone ages, dozens of symbols and patterns were engraved, forming a single system — a formation.

"I knew you'd come in handy. It wasn't for nothing that I bought you at the auction two years ago! And everyone kept saying — 'Why do you need a soul stone? They're almost useless' — well, screw you!"

Taking the stone, Morris began drawing a septagram on the young man's body with his own blood. Drawing disgustingly beautiful runes at its ends and placing the stone in the center, he began muttering something under his breath. At the end of the chant, it glowed a light blue.

"Hahaha! It's working!" Morris said, just as an explosion occurred, showering his face with shards and knocking him onto his back.

"What!? No! No! No!"

Completely ignoring the wounds on his face and chest, he quickly got up. His eyes immediately fell on the horrifying injury where the septagram had been. The restraining straps were torn, and there was no trace of the stone. Any normal person would have vomited at the sight, but the scientist, loudly cursing, began quickly rummaging through the numerous flasks and bottles in a special compartment of his table. Finding the right bottle containing a pale white liquid, he opened it and poured its contents on the young man's wound. It began to heal as if by magic, and after a few dozen seconds, there was no trace of the wound. Completely forgetting about any safety precautions, Morris began examining his subject.

"No, no, please, he's not dead, right?! Damn it, he's not breathing!"

But suddenly, the young man woke up and attacked Morris. With a sharp blow to the face, he knocked him to the ground. And, pinning him down, he grabbed the scientist's neck and began to strangle him. Morris, in a futile attempt to free himself, started hitting the young man in the face and writhing.

The young man's fingers dug deeper into Morris's neck, leaving bloody streaks. But he continued to press down with his pain-ridden body. Bright red capillaries appeared in the eyes of the suffocating scientist, and his face began to turn blue, blood flowing from under the fingers. A few seconds later, a weak crunch was heard, and the spark of life in Morris's once-lively eyes gradually faded. All resistance ceased, and breathing stopped. The young scientist was dead.