vampire serum ficlet
This one's called "the one with the vampire serum", a ficlet that probably won't be continued. Summary: Everything has a price. When Mandark finds himself at the mercy of his rival, he'll question whether this price is too high to pay. But what choice does he have?
"Ah, ah, ah," Dexter chides, holding the vampiric serum just out of reach. Mandark struggles against the robot arms that hold him, but to no avail. "Silly Mandark, did you really think it would be that easy?"
"Give it to me," Mandark demands, eyes locked on the vial.
Then Dexter tsks him, actually fucking tsks him, and shakes his head no. He places the vial back into his labcoat pocket. "Now why would I do that?" Dexter strolls across the room, sits back behind his desk. "Do you know how many resources it takes for my laboratory to produce just 50 millilitres of this? Resources that are far better off being dedicated to other, more lucrative projects."
"I—" Mandark's eyes dart wildly to the serum, the tiny vial that's so close and yet just out of reach. He stops struggling against the robot arms - the hard steel is starting to hurt, and his skin is already sensitive from all of the burns he's sustained from the daylight.
Dexter folds his hands together and places them under his chin. "Now are you ready to behave and talk like adults, or should I order Computer to throw you out?"
Mandark grits his teeth, feeling Dexter's words dripping with condescension. After about a minute of silence, Dexter waves a hand and the robots release their hold on him, but still stand close.
"Chair," Dexter says, and one wheels in front of his desk automatically. To Mandark he smirks and gestures, "Sit." like Mandark's a fucking dog.
Mandark steps forward, reluctance in every movement, and sits down across from him.
Dexter smiles, "Good boy."
"Don't—" Mandark starts, but Dexter quirks a brow and he forces the words back down his throat and instead says. "...How much?"
Dexter cocks his head, "For this?" He takes out the vial again, dangles it in front of him, "Oh, my dear Mandark, you could never afford it."
"Everything has a price," Mandark retorts, steadfastly not breaking his gaze with Dexter and focusing solely on the mocking blue eyes behind horn-rimmed glass. "So name yours. I didn't come all the way here just to be made a fool."
Dexter laughs, "You really want to know? How much it costs DexLabs to produce this?" he places the vial between them on the desk. The only thing stopping Mandark from swiping it and downing it right then and there are the two robots looming behind him. "I'll show you."
He reaches below his desk and types in a swift command on his keyboard. The monitors behind him light up, and Mandark winces at the neon blue that suddenly floods his eyes. The screen fills up with data, numbers marching across the screen in rapid succession — invoices, purchase orders, payroll reports, all summing up to....
"Oh my God," Mandark's jaw practically drops on the desk. "T-that much?"
Even if he sold Mandark Industries...his car...his house...all of his worldly possessions would not be enough.
Dexter laughs, "Convinced? I assure you the numbers don't lie."
"So, tell me, Mandark," Dexter puts the vial back down on the desk. The blue liquid sloshes around inside and catches in the light. "Will you be paying with cash or credit today?" His blue eyes glitter with amusement. "We can also take a cashier's check."
"I..." Mandark feels a lump in his throat. "I..." he can't even bring himself to utter the words.
Dexter tsks. "Such a shame. Well, you know the way out."
"W-wait!" Mandark leaps at him, and the robots grab at him but he still won't let go of Dexter's arm, the labcoat wrinkling under his fingers.
"Please," Mandark says, voice barely above a whisper. "I...Dexter I can't live like this anymore."
Dexter pauses, eyes not leaving him as Mandark continues, "My company is hitting rock bottom. I can't afford to pay my employees because no one wants to contract work for a company run by a Vampire," he spits out the last word like poison, "Dex, I can't eat. I can't sleep. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder to see if a Daywalker is going to stab me through the heart with a wooden stake. I haven't fed in days. My skin burns. I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired. Please. I'll do anything."
He clutches his sleeve. Dexter looks down at him, eyes glittering with delight.
"Anything?"