tagErotic HorrorThe Adler Chronicles - Langford

The Adler Chronicles - Langford

bytony_m_black©

Warning: This story contains explicit descriptions of violence and sex.

Langford

The Adler Chronicles Part 1

From: Book of Orexis


Aglaya Stops again to fix the belt around her tiny waist. The chain waist belt, with its many thick ornate links hangs loosely on her hips. A decorative accessory above her well fitted stretch hipsters. Varya, who is some distance ahead now, turns back, her beautiful naked shoulders falling with a quick heavy sigh, as she walks back to her.

"Aglaya, stop worrying, you look fine" Varya exclaims as she takes Aglaya by the wrist.

Aglaya heaves a deep breath as she looks up nervously at her friend. "I don't know about this Varya," she says, looking back at the long line of people in the queue, which they are now stood beside of, "What if they don't let us in? It's a big club."

"Aglaya, are you crazy, look at us. We're gorgeous!" Varya says, smiling as she takes her by the other hand now. "Of course they'll let us in, Roksana says they encourage the girls to come in this place, it's good for business."

Aglaya nods, forcing a smile as she looks up trustingly at her friend. If there was anyone she could trust in the world, it was Varya, who had taken her under her wing, and looked out for her since she arrived in St Petersburg six months ago.

She had come all the way from Romania virtually on her own, as her boyfriend had been arrested in Moscow, and necessity had compelled her to make a living from prostitution. For her, that was a much better option than going back to Romania. It wasn't so bad, she was tough. She didn't have to learn to be tough, she simple was. At a just turned eighteen, she still has a very youthful look, some might even say innocent. It is a look that she is proud of, despite the many things she has done that were contrary to the facade. There are no rules when it comes to matters of survival, and God help anyone who seeks to take advantage of this little innocent faced girl. She has been through too much in her eighteen years to become anybodies innocent victim.

Varya had understood her. Varya was just like her, she was just a little louder, a little taller, and at two years older, with a whole life lived struggling in the big city, and a face too pretty to tell the tale, she considers herself a veteran on these streets. The two girls had met on streets, and hit it off immediately. Varya had her own place at a hostel, right in the centre of town. She invited Aglaya to come and live with her. She introduced Aglaya to all the people a girl needs to know in this town, and pointed out those she should avoid, and the two have been inseparable ever since.

Varya clasps Aglaya by the hand, and they walk right to the front of the queue. The bouncer, a brooding thick-necked brute of a man in a shapeless suit, removes the ribbon by the entrance to let a couple he has just finished frisking pass. He looks the girls up and down as he affixes the ribbon back across the door, his eyes unreadable beneath his low hanging brow.

"Oh! Sorry baby." Aglaya turns as the smiling man lightly takes hold of her hand, with a slight bow of his head in apology before turning and swiftly slipping between the wide bouncer and the door, before hopping the ribbon with great dexterity.

"Hey! You coming back in here again?" Shouts the bemused bouncer at the grinning guy in the slim fitted grey suit.

"Take it easy Oleg, it's still early man," he says as he comes back to lean across the big man's shoulder, patting him playfully on his chest. Oleg scowls sternly, brushing him off with a grunt. The cheeky-smile-in-a-suit laughs, winking at the girls as he turns and head into the club.

Varya steps forward, grabbing Aglaya by the hand, and pulling her, she smiles at the grisly bounce.

He raises his open hand across the door, just short of touching Varya's arm. "I.D?" He asks, his eyes taking the full measure of her body before coming back to her face.

"Roksana invited us," says Varya, still smiling confidently at Oleg.

He looks over at Aglaya for a moment, before looking back to Varya. He steps close to her, his big frame now dwarfing hers. Aglaya feels her friend breathe in as she straightens and looks up at the big man. Finally, he releases the ribbon and slowly steps aside just a little. Varya pulls Aglaya as she squeezes through the small gap, her breasts rubbing against his chest. She looks back at Aglaya, smiling devilishly as she slightly raises their clasped hands so that they lightly brush across the bouncer cock beneath his trousers. Aglaya stifles a smile as she squeezes past the big man, looking up into his eyes before she slowly turns away, she let her other hand brush lightly across his swelling member.

Pharmeraid Lab

Dr Langford looks through the microscope at the circular sphere that is the cell membrane. With infinitesimal acute movements of his right hand, he attempts to refocus the powerful lens. Flustered and exhaling deeply as he gets up from the stool, he grabs his walking stick, and hobbles over to the other side of the room where he flicks a switch on the wall. A row of luminescent lights flickers on, illuminating the other side of the laboratory.

He hobbles back to the counter, his steps almost echoing in the massive empty room as he sits down at the microscope yet again. The silence is intense. At just gone two o'clock in the morning, the building is empty. There is a night security guard somewhere, but the chances are he is asleep, or on his notebook, watching movies on the other side of the building. It doesn't matter to Langford, once again he is the only person left in the lab, working obsessively throughout the night.

The needle pierces the membrane and shoots the microscopic nucleus into the cell. Within a few minutes he should know if it worked or not, with these samples it's hit and miss. Never before has a project shown so much promise - if only it had come three years ago. Three years ago, he had been desperately looking for miracles. He had searched tirelessly, holding on to the hope that he could do something right up until the end, but he had failed, and nothing that he did now would change that. So why was he so obsessed now? Was it her memory? His guilt? The absence of anything else in his life worth living for?

He bent to look through the microscope. It had worked. This one was for his patient. To hell with what the others thought, this was his project.

The club

Aglaya glances uneasily across the dance-floor at the huge crowd of moving bodies.

"hey, relax!" orders Varya as she looks at her. "Let's get a drink," she says into Aglaya's ear over the pumping bass of tribal house music.

"No, I don't want a drink," Aglaya says, shaking her head as she looks at her friend.

"You need to loosen up, come on," Varya says pulling her now.

Aglaya lets herself be pulled along, somewhat reluctantly towards the bar, with Varya pushing her way forcefully through the crowd ahead of her. Suddenly she bumps into somebody.

"Sorry!"

"Hey, we meet again," the man says, bending slightly to look into Varya eyes, or perhaps to make her look at his.

"Excuse me?" says Varya questioningly as she looks up at him.

Aglaya peeps her head around her taller friend to see the man's face for herself and recognises him immediately. She realises how tall he is as she looks up at him, and with his jacket off, she sees that he's quite thin as-well. He smiles at them and his dark eyebrows slightly dip in the middle giving an almost cheeky look to his face. In his hand is a bottle and three glasses, which it seems had almost spilled as Varya bumped into him.

"We met outside -- well I bumped into you while you were talking to smiley at the door -- How are you doing, my names Oliver," he says, extending his hand to Varya.

"Oh, okay, well sorry. I assure you I wasn't looking for payback," says Varya with a smile as she goes to step past him.

"Hey, think nothing of it," he says, stepping in front of her again, "Can I get you guys a drink? I feel it's my duty to make amends for my rudeness earlier."

"I don't know," Varya says, looking over her shoulder at Aglaya.

"Nonsense, come and join me and my friends for a drink, it will be fun. We're in the VIP," he says, looking pointedly over at the sealed off room with the glass wall on the other side of the club.

"Okay why not," says Varya. Aglaya squeezes her hand tightly. "Come on," Varya whispers, tugging her along as they follow Oliver through the crowd.

A large grim looking man pulls the door open for them and they enter the room. Oliver lays the bottle of champagne down in the table beside another larger one that is already half empty. He picks up the other one and fills two glasses for the girls. There are two other girls in the room, already drinking and dancing to the loud music. One of them comes over and put her arm across Oliver's shoulder, leaning into him, her breasts pressed firmly against his arm. He put his arm around her, "Yeah let's party!" he says, the champagne spilling as he raises his glass into the air.

Varya and Aglaya laugh as they exchange a glance with each other. Oliver and the girl begin to dance, their bodies flexing sensually to the pumping rhythmic music. He turns her around, her ass pressed up against him as his hands caress her breasts and stomach. She rolls her waist as his hands fall to her hips and lightly traces the contours of her thighs. She lets her head fall backwards, arching her back as she leans into him, her hand holding the back of his neck. He raises his glass to her lips and lets her drink from it, and as she kisses him, they share the wine.

He looks down at the two girls sitting on the sofa and stretches out his hand to Varya. She swallows her drink and pulls Aglaya up with her as they join the two them. He puts his arm around Varya's waist, his hand resting on her back, and his fingers sliding down into her waistband. The other girl in the room comes over and stands behind Aglaya. She lays her hand on Aglaya's stomach, and then across her hips before she slips her hand down the front of her jeans. Aglaya exhale deeply as she looks out at the packed dance-floor beyond the glass.

Varya smiles as she leans across and kisses her, and Aglaya reaches up to touch her friend's face, the other hand gripping her by the waist as she kisses her back. Her panties becoming wet with the finger which rubs across her clitoris again and again as it drives up into her vagina.

The other girl, who's dancing with Oliver and Varya turns and slips her hand into his trouser pocket. She withdraws a little snuffer bottle, and holding it up with a triumphant laugh, she pops the top. Inside the bottle are little flat pills. She puts one on her tongue and then gives him one in his mouth. He takes the bottle and gives two to Varya, one of which she swallows and the other she puts on her tongue before turning to kiss Aglaya again.

He slips his hand into Varya's low cut top, and cups her breast, pulling it free of the bra. He bends and lightly runs his tongue over the nipple while holding it gently between his teeth, and then closes his lips on it, sucking hard. She holds the back of his head as she pulls him towards her. Finally, he looks up and kisses her, his hand holding the back of her neck as his thumb lightly strokes her earlobe "let's get out of here baby, I'll give you whatever you want for both of you," he whispers into her ear.

They all go through a fire exit door at the back of the VIP area. The big man that they had forgotten about walks on ahead of them as they passed through the narrow passageway. Oliver and the girls, laugh, half stumbling as they stop to kiss and touch each other. He takes some more pills from his pocket, and putting one on his tongue he kisses Varya before putting the bottle to her lips to drink from, and then he does the same to Aglaya.

Aglaya lays her back against the wall, her eyes closed as she drinks from the bottle, her hand lazily caressing his chest. By the time they get outside the club Varya and Aglaya are almost unconscious, and have to be carried to the large jeep. The other two girls help to get them onto the back seat before the door is slammed shut behind them.

Petya winds down the window from the passenger seat and looks back at Oliver who's stood on the pavement with the two club girls.

"Good?" nods Petya, his eyes glancing back towards the two girls in the back seat.

"Yeah, they're cool man," says Oliver, his eyes barely open as he sways in the outside air.

Petya laughs, lightly tapping Oliver on his cheek as the vehicle start up before taking off down the road.

The Lab.

04:30am

Dr Valuev: the country's leading biochemist, and the projects second in command, enters the laboratory to start preparations for this morning's experiment. He is followed closely by medical laboratory assistant Eurl Sax and laboratory technician Eidris Fielding.

"Good morning gentleman," sings Dr Langford without so much as an upward glance as he hobbles, with surprising speed from the cabinet to the medical trolley, with a packet of disposable syringes in his hand.

Dr Valuev stops in his tracks, eyeing Langford with suspicion.

"Hey Doctor, Don't you ever sleep?" quips Eidris jestfully as he goes to the cabinet for his lab coat.

"No time for sleep Fielding," answers Langford, "The wages of progress are paid by the keen -- take this trolley into the theatre for me would you."

"Yes doctor," says Fielding.

"You've been here all night?" asks Valuev.

"Not all night. I've had breakfast," says Langford, checking his watch. "Mr Sax, would you prepare the patients, I want us ready for transmission in ten minutes."

"Yes doctor," answers Sax. He starts off towards the door.

"I'll do it. You help Fielding with the frames," says Valuev, pulling his lab coat on as he heads for the door. Sax stops and looks over to Dr Langford as if he's unsure what to do for a moment.

Langford nods and Sax goes off to help Fielding as he was told.

"Wait I'll come with you," says Langford, limping quickly after Dr Valuev.

Valuev opens the door to the darkened room, and flicks on the main light switch. A line of five narrow metal counters occupy the centre of the room, with five semi naked men unconscious and bound to each counter with leather strapping. The two men furthest from the door are young; one of them is twenty-eight, and the other thirty-five. The other three men are all past their sixties, the one closest to the door, a paraplegic, with hinge adjustable metal braces fitted to the knees of his extremely thin legs.

"How come there are five?" asks Valuev as he looks down at the sleeping men, "This one's disabled doctor, he's not part of the experiment," he says turning to look at Langford.

"I decided to include this one, this morning," says Langford.

"But there are not enough serums; we only factored enough for four subjects."

"There will be enough; I made another serum this morning."

"But this is not part of the experiment. This man is disabled, there's no research. He is not an adequate subject. You can't..."

"I can, and I did," says Langford angrily. "Must I remind you who's heading this project?"

"No" says Valuev.

"Good, prepare the specimens, we begin in eight minutes," says Langford as he turns and exits the room.

Joseph

Samuel unlocks the door to the underground laboratory at Pharmeraid headquarters in London. This laboratory is one of three underground labs dating back to 1895 when Joseph's father: William Adler had the building constructed. Samuel holds the door open as Ms Schaffer, the sour faced nurse pushes Mr Adler in on a wheelchair.

The hard faced white haired man in the wheelchair bears a mean countenance. Recovering from recent bone marrow harvesting surgery, and desperately clinging to life at the age of eighty-eight, he has becoming increasingly frail of late. Since the operation a fortnight past, which both he and his son :Calvin, underwent to have samples of their bone marrow removed for the purpose of harvesting stem cells, he has been confined to a wheelchair. But neither old age nor sickness has done anything to mitigate the severity of his coldness. Ms Schaffer stops the chair in front of a large projector screen canvas, hanging on the south facing wall of the lab. She bends and takes a small case from the hanging pouch on the back of the chair, from which she produces a syringe, already half filled with a yellow solution. She rolls up Joseph's sleeve and quickly finds a vein to inject him in. He watches her as the solution flows out of the needle.

With quick, almost nervous gestures, she applies a cotton bud and bandage to his arm, before packing the syringe and tourniquet into the case and leaving the room.

He waits until she has closed the door, and then Samuel points the remote at the projector. The image of a large laboratory appears on the screen. In the centre of the room is a standing metal frame with five men attached to it by cuffs at their wrists and ankles.

Dr Langford walks into view from the right side of the screen. Behind him, a lab assistant pushes a trolley with a rack of syringes atop it in front of the frame.

"Good morning Mr Adler" says Dr Langford

Varya and Aglaya

Aglaya opens her eyes to total darkness and the sound of groaning. The unmistakable sound of someone moaning in pain is coming from right beside her. She's sure that it is Varya. She opens her eyes as wide as possible but fails to see anything. She knows that her face is not covered, it's just there is no light in the place she is, either that or she has lost her sight. She prays that is not the case. Her legs and her wrists ache. As she tries to move her hands, she realises that they have been bound with metal cuffs, to the wall it seems above her head. She cannot stand up to get off her knees or turn from the wall.

What the hell is this!

"Varya! Varya..." she whispers in the darkness, "are you alright?"

Only the sound of un-modulated groaning responds to her as she attempts to see something of the person, moaning beside her. She shifts her body closer to the wall -- her naked legs, scraping on the hard floor -- and reaches out to her side with her leg as far as she can, but it's no use, she cannot reach her.

In the room next door, Eurl inject the contents of the last syringe into the old man on the metal frame, this one to the cripple for whom there had been two shots. He puts the empty needle on the tray and wheels the trolley out of the room.

On Joseph's screen in London Dr Langford also leaves the picture and exits the room, but his voice still comes clearly through the transmission, as he explains the procedure through a small microphone on his lab coat. The men begin to pull at their restrained, twisting wildly, a few of them, banging the back of their heads against the metal frame.

"As you see, the subjects have all now been injected with the serum"

Suddenly a mist seems to bellow into the room from the upper left and right corners and the hissing sound of secreting gas can be heard through Joseph's speakers.

"Now the room will be filled with two gases, the first of which will be a mixture of pheromones and cocaine, followed by tear gas, and shot of epinephrine will automatically be injected into their blood stream before their manacles are released."

As the second wave of gas begins to fill the room, the men appear go wild on the frame, and it looks as if the apparatus will topple over. The old man on the end appears to be in the midst of a spasmodic fit, his back tensely arched and veins bulging across his body like road map.

The youngest man, at the other end of the frame looses consciousness his head falls into his chess, as blood spews from his mouth in choked coughs.

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