Conspiracy - Washington, DC. 21:45.

(c) Ice'Di Griz/Triumph



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  Washington, DC. 21:45.



    Dr. Tad Whatley had a sleepless night last night, so he didn't
I tried especially hard.  He was feeling sleepy, and his eyes were clouded.
The hands did not want to obey. His legs felt like they were stuffed with cotton. With difficulty
suppressing a yawn, the doctor put down his scalpel and thought: “Don’t
should we continue the autopsy tomorrow?>, but immediately crushed this thought in
embryo, as people usually crush cockroaches - with a crunch!
    Sighing heavily, he took off his glasses and began to concentrately rub
the bridge of the nose, trying to ward off the stupefying sleep.  Like a dream
the drug attracted him to itself, promising unimaginable benefits. He
I wanted to immerse myself in it, to escape from the surrounding reality.
But he simply couldn't afford it...
    Taking the scalpel in his hand again, the doctor bent over the corpse.
“Fresh, just arrived an hour ago,” - for some reason I thought
to him.  He shook his head, trying to clear away abstract thoughts, but
he didn't succeed...
    The dead man was indeed “fresh”. Death has come
just a couple of hours ago andthe corpse has not yet had time to give to those around him
the world its warmth... He looked about 30 years old, had short hair, and
tattoo depicting a white rose on the left forearm.
The tattoo reminded the doctor of something, somewhere he had seen it before,
but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember where. Initial
the diagnosis was made as a heart attack because the body
no wounds or signs of violence were found on the deceased, and
scars on the veins from frequent drug use. Newcomer
was not a drug addict, the doctor concluded, except that he abused it
snorting cocaine and smoking weed. But the doctor didn't believe that
this could be the cause of death, in any case... not in
in this case.
    Whatley bent over the body and made a neat cut in
sternum area.  The flesh was surprisingly soft and pliable, and
For some reason the blood did not flow, although the man died only a couple of hours
ago, and the clotting cycle has not yet begun. Doctor surprised
chuckled and straightened up, adjusting his glasses. His gaze fell on his face
deceased.  Whatley shuddered and turned pale. The deceased's eyes were
wide open, although Tad could have sworn that it would take another moment
ago the eyelids closed them tightly. Exhaling noisily, the doctor drawled
hand and covered them. He always didn't like the eyes of corpses, because
eyes are the mirror of the soul, and you never know what you can do THERE
see...

Washington, DC, house on Trevol Street. 23:10.



    Whatley had already performed the autopsy, written the report, and sitting in
I was thinking about it in a warm armchair at home. He diagnosed
~sudden cardiac arrest~.   Yeah... There's a lot in this case
strange things... Judging by the tests performed, the blood has clotted
already at least a week ago, on the right hemisphere of the brain
patches of milky-white mold were found in the brain, and iridescent
the shell of the eyes was of some unnatural color -
brown-ashy, or what? The doctor couldn't name a specific color,
because This simply did not exist in nature...
    - Darling, go have dinner; - the voice of his wife came from below.
    They had been married for 16 years and during all this time that he
I remembered they never quarreled. The wife's name was Martha, she was
medium build, blonde. They had two children, a boy
and a girl, Fred and Wendy. He was 13, she was 9. The girl was in early
I suffered from a severe form of typhus as a child, but the doctors found it only a miracle
managed to save her life.  Wendy was reminded of that time
ugly scars on the back of the head and on the left side.
    Ted Whatley reluctantly rose from his chair and yawned lazily.
stretched.   Then, carefully putting slippers on his feet, he began
go downstairs to the dining room.
    The doctor earned decent money, so the family could
allow such a chictwo-story mansion, with facade and garden
around him.
    - Why don’t you eat, dear? - she asked, pouting her lips offendedly
Martha.
    - A?  What?  Sorry, I got lost in thought and listened... what are you saying?
did you say? - Doctor Whattley looked intently at his wife.
    Martha sighed and went to the kitchen.
    The doctor sat for some time, lost in thought, then
began to chew toast with strawberry jam, washing it all down with coffee.



  Washington, DC Central Mortuary. 09:20.



    Tad Whatley sat in his office and leafed through yesterday's
conclusion. There was a quiet knock on the door. 
    - Come in. - The doctor put the folder with documents aside.
    The door opened carefully. Miss Jenkins stood on the threshold,
secretary
    - Good morning!  I would like to know about the deceased, whom
arrived last night. What are the results of the autopsy?
    - Yes, yes... There are a lot of strange and incomprehensible things in this case, I gave
conclusion that death was caused by a stop
hearts... Although there are still some nuances. - the doctor looked at
secretary and turned pale. Her eyes were the same color as
yesterday's dead man.  And the doctor could have sworn that she
her movements became sharper... She moved jerkily...
    - Can I take the conclusion? - asked Jenkins,
looking closely at the doctor.
    - N... nn... nnno, I can’t tell yougive it away. - said
Whattley shook his voice and wiped the sweat from his brow.
    Miss Jenkins's face transformed in an instant.  From the corner of the mouth
a trickle of sickening yellow saliva began to flow.  Her eyes are wide
opened up.  She hissed angrily and took an unnatural pose
began to sneak up on him.
    Tad wanted to get the revolver lying in his desk drawer, but
fear gripped him. From horror he could not move... And the secretary
was getting closer and closer. Finally gaining control of himself, he grabbed
a pen lying on the table and rushed across the table at Jenkins...
    He delivered blow after blow, aiming them at the face and
neck... His hands were covered in blood... The smell of copper filled the office.
Finally he pulled away from his victim, who lay motionless on the floor,
and breathing heavily, bent in half, he ran staggeringly to
sink. He vomited.
    Having soon put himself in order and hidden Miss Jenkins' body in
wardrobe, he went out into the corridor, which he believed
will get him out of here... The closet door in his office is slightly
opened slightly, and the secretary's hand fell out, with a wedding band
ring on the ring finger... Blood flowed from the hand directly onto
expensive Spanish carpet...
    Going out into the hall, the doctor ran into a nurse who usually
transported corpses to refrigerators. Whatley knew that the man
name is Harry, that he came from New York, and that he was
two-meterнигером... Больше Тэд ничего про него не знал.
    - Where are you going, bitch!!! - Harry raised his upper lip,
showing two huge dark yellow fangs. They were dripping stinking
yellow saliva. Harry's eyes were like something out of a nightmare.
    Whatley chose not to contact him because...  felt
significant difference in weight... And those eyes... fangs...
saliva... Tad's lips turned into a thin strip.  Blood
faded from his face. He backed towards the exit.
    - Hey mister! I'm not done with you yet! - the black man roared.
    The doctor started to run, his heart seemed to be
will jump out of your chest, your pulse will go off scale beyond acceptable limits. He
ran out into the street and, not knowing where, ran. The Negroid fled
followed by knocking over trash cans and rare passers-by who simply
did not have time to jump away from the monstrous attack on them
communities.
    Whatley felt himself running out of steam. He was only pushed forward
sense of self-survival.  And then he felt that he was no longer
can run... He stopped caring about everything. He stopped and
bent over and began to breathe heavily.  A trickle of scarlet flowed from the ear
blood.  The doctor looked around in search of the black man.  He was nowhere to be found
visible.  Having caught his breath and shaken off the dust, Ted walked briskly
headed home, to his comfortably built nest, to the only
shelter.  He felt like he was going crazy...  - he repeated under his breath. Only HOME can save him.
    He walked, and it seemed to him that all passers-by were watching him...
every move he makes. The doctor picked up the pace. He suspected that
those two who follow him are watching him, not waiting
wait until he turns into some dark corner...
“Well, no, you won’t drink my blood!” - flashed through Whattli’s
head  And he ran.  He ran all the way home. And every time
when he ran past someone, it seemed to him that everyone wanted
grab him and kill him, suck his blood, devour his inflamed
mind.
    Here it is! HOUSE!   
    Tad felt that he was about to be torn apart by a monstrous force.
Joy overwhelmed him, he squealed with unbridled joy and
limping rushed to the door, hoping to hug his wife and children, not forgetting
lock the door tightly behind you.  The doctor ran to the door and
He jerked it open and ran inside.  He immediately locked it from inside
The door has all locks and bolts.  Now he felt in
safety.... Whattli closed his eyes...
    - Why are you so early, dear?..    
    The doctor shuddered, but immediately recognized the voice of his wife and
calmed down.
    - Yes, I decided to leave work early...; - Whattley interrupted
started a sentence in the middle, and stared in amazement at
wife.
    She stood on the stairs, surrounded by children, and her mouth was leaking
cloudy yellow saliva. Aeyes... Those eyes again... His son Fred,
stood with his hands on his sister’s shoulders and grinned predatorily,
exposing the top row of fangs... Tad Whately burst into madness
laughing... 
    The family echoed him...