A Malicious Test (Final Scene)

--- Joshua ---

He wasn’t sure if it was a concussion or something else but he felt a laugh bubble up his throat as a mad grin grew on his face. “Sorry lady, but farce seems to be my style.” He tilted his head as he noticed something else. “Also, you know I can see up your skirt from this angle, right?” He actually couldn’t thanks to her shadows but he figured if he was going to mouth off, (might as well go all in.)

Zylah snarled and raised her heel giving him just a brief moment to consider the fact that, (this is going to hurt) before pain and darkness filled his awareness.

---

“Oh, boss you’re not looking good...” A voice commented as he wondered why he felt like he was laying on velvet carpet. “Just, just give me a second and I’ll have you right as rain boss!”

“R-right, the show… musht go on.” He agreed, his voice slurring as he pushed himself off the ground.

“Too true boss, too true.” The voice agreed as the familiar clink of bottle to bar glass hit his ears. “Drink this, and you’ll be ready for your next scene.”

Something cold yet warm hit his lips, before burning down his throat and leaving him laughing as-

---

He sat up with a smile on his face, despite the ice pick piercing his skull and melting his mind.

“Hm, not going to lie, I wasn’t expecting you to get up this fast.” The Malice Merchant told him, a vial of Malice loaded into an injector of some kind.

“What can I say? The show must go on!” He laughed springing to his feet in a (heh) feat of athleticism, he didn’t think himself capable of.

“Interesting.” The man blinked in seeming surprise.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing.” He grinned, feeling ants crawling on his brain as he tasted something (de-licious) on his tongue.

The Malice Merchant ‘hm’ed’ as he stared at Joshua for a moment before finally telling him, “You have nosebleed.”

Smiling, he wiped at his upper lip before pulling his hand away and seeing a nearly black red. “So I am.”

Both of them were quiet for a moment, the man staring at him and him smiling all the while.

“Right.” The man said after a full minute of them standing there. “So would you like to know what we’ve discovered about the… substance your power revolves around?”

“Oh, that sounds… entertaining.” He admitted, another chuckle escaping him for some reason.

The man watched him for another moment before turning towards the table. “Right…”

“So, tell me about myself Doc.” He prompted once they were both seated.

The Malice (Doctor, he seems like he could be a doctor,) pushed a folder across to him. “This packet contains several files on the substance you produce, you can keep it in case you forget anything during your current state of mind.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He asked curiously, feeling like if anything his mind was finally in the proper state of affairs for getting things done.

“Overuse of madness causes a temporary -possibly permanent with repeated exposure- state of delirium, confusion, removal of inhibitions, as well as hallucinations and sociopathic tendencies.” The Malice Doctor explained with an intense gaze. “And all of that is before we get into the side-effects of Malice on your system.”

“Ooh, sounds fun.” He grinned.

“Quite…” The Malice Doctor was staring at him again, (then again I’m fabulous so why wouldn’t he?) “The first thing we discovered was the substance you’re producing is not actually Black Water despite sharing several characteristics.”

“Oh, then what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, an odd form of ink.”

“Ink.” He purred, the word doing things to him.

“Yes… ink…” The Malice Doctor nodded, looking a little uncomfortable for some reason. “What’s interesting about that is it isn’t an organic ink such as what cephalopods produce, but rather artificial like manufactured inks. More specifically the less efficient inks from the early to mid 1900’s, hence its ability to evaporate when exposed to heat or light, which is then accelerated by the Malice within, one of the two ingredients notably different from said brands.”

“Oh, and what’s the other?” He felt compelled to ask.

“A small portion of your ink is chemically similar to blood,” The Malice Doctor admitted, before clarifying, “your blood to be exact.”

“So my ink leaves a bloody signature wherever I leave it…” He figured, the revelation earning a mixed reaction from him given how it could cost him his anonymity, but at the same time (a star must give autographs to their fans!)

“Mm, yes and no.” The Malice Doctor told him. “The blood concentrate is largely covered up by the Malice, the only reason I could see it was because I had samples of your blood from before, after, and during your body’s modifications. As well as an understanding of Malice beyond most labs.”

“So people won’t see it unless they’re holding my blood right next to the ink?” He summarized, a fair part of him enjoying the idea of hiding his signature in his (art).

“And that’s before the evaporation effect, and only if you’ve been using your powers a great deal before the sample was taken.” The Malice Doctor assured him.

“That’s a relief.” He admitted with another smile, before taking a look at the folder. “Got anything else to tell me Doc?”

“Nothing you don’t already know.” The Doc (lied), causing his eye to spasm in annoyance.

“You sure?” He asked, just barely noticing the odd edge to his own tone.

“If you want I can explain the meta-biology responsible for your unique form of regeneration?” The Malice Doctor offered, standing his ground and meeting his eyes.

“Sounds interesting, but I’m going to give that a tentative ‘no’.” He told the Malice Doctor, even as he felt his smile growing just a touch too wide.

“Good, then we can move onto the next order of business.” The Malice Doctor nodded, before propping his head up with one hand as he looked into Josh’s eyes. “What to do with you?”

“No idea.” He grinned, all teeth. “Guinea pig or agent, I’m sure I can put on one hell of a show.”

“I’m sure you can.” The Malice Doctor admitted. “Which is why we’re going to make sure you’re actually skilled enough to put on that show.”

(Of course I’m skilled enough, but still… ) “What do you mean?”

“Every day for the next week one of our… agents will be at this warehouse between the hours of five and eight.” The Malice Doctor explained. “If you come to the warehouse on these days they will teach you the basics of several skills that should prove… useful, in whichever role you choose. And at the end of the week, we shall give you one final placement test to decide whether your a, as you put it, ‘guinea pig or agent’.”

(So one week of lessons before the audition that decides whether I'm a star or extra.)

“So, all I have to do is come back tomorrow for those lessons, right?” He double checked, already confident in whether he’d attend or not.

“Well that and preferably, avoid… annoying your designated teacher.” The Malice Doctor confessed with a hint of amusement at something.

(Probably remembering my performance today.)

“Alright, sounds like we have our script.” He agreed, feeling a hint of excitement at the possibilities to come.