PROJECT: CARCINOGEN [Prime Assets x Prime Asset! Reader] AU
Idea by @forbidden-soda
TW: Horror elements, chemical usage on MC/Reader, we're gettin' spooky with it babey
MC/Reader has holes in their skin as well as exposed skeletal bits, bloodshot eyes, and rough, scarred skin. Clyde Perry is alive.
None of this is real, I pulled some magic, science-y stuff out of my ass. Carcinogens don't do any of this lol don't inject yourself with any
To Easterman, cruelty was a necessary evil in order to achieve peace; after all, one must experience hardships to truly appreciate the feelings of freedom and harmony.
This project was no different.
And so he stood before the room of his most trusted medical personnel, one of which being Barlow [despite the unsure quirk of her brows], and the infamous figure of Clyde Perry, sitting close to the front.
Hendrick's smile was contagious as he slid files onto the table they all sat at, his free hand nursing a glass of whiskey.
"Behold," he was bold in his announcing, "Project Carcinogen."
Even the name was something that made Emily's stomach do backflips with nausea and intrigue. A project had usually meant the introduction of a new prime asset, and the name sounded so...menacing.
"What was done to this new prime asset?" One of the many scientists took one of the files, a photograph of the new prime asset making his stomach mimic Barlow's; he didn't know whether to feel fascinated or disgusted.
"This new prime asset is named Carcinogen. They're a fascinating case, really." Easterman sounded like a proud father figure, almost like his child was in the school play.
This wasn't exactly too far off.
"They were selected by yours truly to be pumped full of Agent Opal, a selective, systemic herbicide agent. What occurred was truly stellar."
Barlow didn't like the sound of that. She pursed her lips, but questioned him anyway, "What, exactly, did occur? And what the hell is the difference between herbicides? They're all dangerous to the human body."
Easterman was more than proud as he chugged the rest of his whiskey and slammed it down onto the table, making her flinch. Almost like he was trying to control her growing rebelliousness and questioning.
"Systemic herbicides kill plants, and in this case, humans from the inside out. First, their organs began to shut down. They clawed at their flesh, trying so desperately to free their soul from their damaged vessel."
Easterman had looked like he was describing some holy event, but this was anything but.
"The herbicide...the carcinogens within it began to attack their brain, but amazingly, their body now relies on it to live."
This sounded like a horror flick.
"...Relies on it, you said?" The same scientist from earlier asked with intrigue, "How so?"
"The carcinogens are what form new cells. They completely took over their immune system. They require that specific strain of herbicide to live, but here's the most fascinating thing..."
Easterman leaned in, almost like this was a secret, "Their blood? Full of herbicide, now. Their organs, instead of shutting down, are now pumping a cocktail of blood and herbicide through their veins."
"This sounds supernatural," Barlow scoffed, "There is no way this is happening. Agent Opal is next to deadly, there is no way a human body would react this way."
"That's what we thought as well," Easterman mused. "But they seemed to defy our expectations."
"What were your expectations, anyway?"
Easterman did nothing but shrug. "Truthfully, we used Agent Opal seeing as it was selective. We wanted it to attack the immune system, albeit their body reacted in an opposite manner."
This was disgustingly cruel, even for Murkoff. But Barlow now remained silent, trying to keep her lunch contained.
She should quit. But she knew too much. Clyde knew where she lived.
"We have been using Agent Opal for months now, during the 'toxic' events we hold once or twice a year. But seeing it in action within the human body...it's fascinating."
Another nurse took one of the photographs, her face full of disgusted curiosity. "Their body looks like it's decaying, sir."
"Respectfully, how do we stop them from rotting even more? Their bones are showing in their face, for gods sake."
Easterman smirked, pouring himself another glass. Excitement often lead to whiskey with him. "You don't. The agent is what's keeping them alive. You could even say it heals them."
"What in gods name are you talking about?" Barlow found herself scoffing once more. "How does a cancer-causing herbicide heal somebody?"
"It affected their immune system, yes, but their white blood cells have combined with it. Learned from it, even."
Barlow had to hold back a gag.
"What do they use as a weapon? They're interesting, but...they don't sound too threatening." Another scientist raised a brow, clearly bored. "A self-healing freak of nature doesn't exactly sound like they'd thrive in a therapeutic environment."
"That's where you're incorrect. We've given them a tank full of pure, concentrated Agent Opal. Spraying a Reagent with it can burn the Reagent's flesh."
The scientest rolled his eyes, "Easy to avoid if they have a heavy tank on them. Reagents can just stun them with their rigs, or throw a brick. And with the way their flesh looks? With all of those holes...Carcinogen looks a little too fragile."
Easterman sighed with disappointment, "Have you no faith in me? Or do you become a selective deaf when it's convenient?"
He was quick to speak before the scientist could, "Carcinogen can easily spray themselves with Agent Opal to heal. That is what makes them fascinating."
"And how do the other assets feel about them, hmm?" Perry asked from his spot; his neck was wrapped with pristine white bandaging, clearly due to Carcinogen getting a little too trigger happy when he had to bring them in.
Easterman looked like a proud parent once more, "They've formed a business alliance with the Kress family heirs. Combining a walking carcinogen and a science-oriented political pair was the smartest thing we've done."
Perry hummed, satisfied with that answer.
"I think what's most interesting is how they can heal other prime assets," A guard spoke up, looking over the files with intrigue. Barlow furrowed her brows, looking to Easterman for context.
"Ah, yes, right. As I've said, their immune system and cardiovascular system now pumps Agent Opal. This, also, applies to their bile, their saliva..." Even Easterman had looked slightly disturbed at this information, "They can coat wounds in their saliva or otherwise to heal minor to severe wounds."
"And that wouldn't...infect anything?" Barlow seemed unconvinced, even more so. This sounded like a horror story from the barracks of a warzone.
"Surprisingly? No," Clyde looked to Barlow, "For some reason, it acts like a 'mold' of sorts. The combination of the white bloodcells and the selective nature of the herbicide have made it detect and attach it to damaged cells."
Disgusting. Inhumane. Yet all Barlow could do was sigh.
"We've got work to do, ladies and gentlemen." Easterman finished off his new glass of whiskey, "It's prime time this week."
"Stupid fuckin' Reagents, throwing a fuckin' brick at ME!" Franco's voice was irritated as he wiped at his teary eyes. No, they weren't tears. They're water. Eyes needed to water themselves.
"I'll show them, those fucks..." He scoffed, sniffling slightly. His head began to pound, the impact of the brick making his flesh swell slightly.
He didn't hear the clanking of a tank, nor did he see you appear; your eyes, bloodshot, scanned him slightly before you walked up to him.
"Stand the fuck back, freak!" Lupara smoked at the barrel, eyes glaring at the new figure.
Still, you stood there, the metallic nozzle of your sprayer in your hand. You looked like a damn strawberry, with the amount of small holes within your flesh.
You didn't give him an option as you licked your hand, your saliva thick and a sickening shade of flourescent green; you smeared it onto his head, making him yelp.
"Fucking- HEY!" He nearly screeched, his gloved hand desperately wiping the saliva off. "Did you just fuckin' wipe your gunk on me?!"
You said nothing, watching him with boredom.
The wound began to burn before he felt his skin begin to close; he couldn't see, but he did stare at you with wide eyes as he moved to touch the wound again.
"...Your gunk healed my fuckin' head." He scoffed with disbelief, "You- what the fuck even are you?"
Nothing more was exchanged as you walked to the elevator, the doors shutting behind you.
...Whatever you were, Franco could tell you'd work perfectly together.
Otto held the tank of herbicide with ease, like it had weighed lighter than a feather; Arora peered into the beaker in her hands, the herbicide mixing well with her own personal mixture.
"And you say this...eats at the flesh?" Otto questioned with a raised brow, Arora purring from her position above him.
"Even if it didn't, it's bonding well with my work," Arora shook the beaker with eagerness, "I'm more than eager to test it on those...Reagents."
And that's all that needed to be said.
"You're a fuckin' freak."
Coyle could insult all he want, but deep inside, he knew he couldn't argue when you killed off the Reagents in record time. The officer stood beside you, the cigarette bobbing between his lips as he was in thought.
"...But you're an effective freak. I'm a man o' honour...I can respect when a freak like you does their shit n' does it well."
A clap on the back was all he gave you before he walked off, grumbling about the prisoner in the cells.
With Coyle, a clap on the back was flattery.
"Phyllis! Get away from the fuckin's herbicide bitch, they reek!"
"Now now, doctor daddy," Gooseberry tutted as the pair watched you work; reagents clawed at their flesh in agony as you sprayed at them, your face eerily stoic despite the torture you were inflicting onto them.
"They're quite good at this, don't you think?"
"I don't thinks, Phyllis, I know, and I know they're a fuckin' nuisance! This is our job!"
"Teamwork won't kill us."
"Shaddup! It'll take our moneys away! Who will pay for us with a freak like that?!"
Gooseberry did nothing but roll her eyes and walk off into the Root Canal.
She appreciated the break.
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