Guilt Forgoes Success

by Nyx Kelly

art by u/DiViSuCa18

Draft.
After draft.
After draft.

Her pages built up as fast as reports did, as fast as she watched his anger and eagerness grow. She wanted to get this right... no, she had to get this right. There was no other option. Yet, the pages still piled up, crumpled balls overflowed the plastic bin in the corner of the room, spilling out onto the floor as though to escape the scrutinizing eye they were continuously put under every time another joined the pile. It took Autumn a while, longer than she thought it would, but finally she stopped adding papers to that pile. Finally, a page sat in front of her, clean of mistakes and bright with potential.

Now all that was left to do was set the wheels in motion.

Terminating Deborah was certainly not the easiest thing she had been asked to do, no. She would have much preferred a written report due by the end of the work day, or a supervision on a new patient which would have her on her feet for upwards of ten hours straight, but this was what she had been assigned; to quickly and quietly terminate Deborah. She was trusted, He trusted her, which was more than any other employee at Syntec could say. She worked hard for His trust and she was not about to throw all of that away just because of a little moral dilemma. He trusted her, and, to her, that was worth more than any compass. All she needed was Him to guide her, and she would end up right where she needed to be.

She had potential, He had told her so. She couldn’t, in any good mind, allow that potential to be wasted upon anything less than what Syphus wanted from her. He was all that mattered, all that would matter, to her. Deborah was in His way, in their way, and Autumn needed to eliminate such an arrogant obstacle. No one could be allowed to think of themselves as better than Nelson Syphus, because, simply, it was impossible no matter what sort of relation, familial or otherwise.

Sixteen ounces of barbiturate, paralytic and potassium solution each; a deadly cocktail was exactly what she needed; it was the most inconspicuous way to make preparations without drawing unwanted attention to herself. The chemicals would be easy to come upon in a lab such as Syntec; having active euthanasia laying around was nothing worth a second glance from any employee. Best of all? Syphus approved of her plan. He approved of her intellect, commended her resourcefulness, and encouraged the action to be completed as soon as was smart.

“I will be able to have the chemicals ordered,” she had stated confidently, standing across the desk from Him with her hands linked behind her back. “Sixteen ounces of each solution, shipped separately from the company’s order, will go completely unnoticed.”

He looked up at her with those cold eyes, a gaze that sent shivers down her spine like an electric current.

“Euthanasia... simple, yet effective...” He looked over the page Autumn had handed over, her neat writing detailing the process by which she could go, the options she had thought out for delivering the cocktail. “And if it should fail?”

She stalled for a second, blinking rapidly. “Sir?”

“What if the administration does not work? Something goes wrong? What then?”

She took a breath, squaring her shoulders. “The failure rate of a lethal dose, in the past 90 years, is below six percent, most failures falling on the administration and equipment. Deborah’s file dictates no previous use of intravenous drugs, which should mean her veins are in good condition, and easy to find. However, I do not quite plan to inject it, sir.”

Syphus leaned back in His seat. “Go on.”

“The chemicals are just as toxic when ingested, only, they do not act quickly. Sixteen ounces of pentobarbital, ingested, will be far more than enough for a lethal dose. Pairing it with the other solution will guarantee that, once it has been introduced to her system, she will not have any chance of salvation.”

All Autumn needed to see was the small twitch upwards of His eyebrows, and she knew she had impressed Him, knew that He approved of her plan, approved of all the research she had done over the last several hours, and most importantly, that He approved of her.

“Well done, Autumn. Benjamin will retrieve what you request of him.”

After that, everything became a blur again. Often, Autumn found her days mundane, speeding by until she had the chance to speak with Syphus again. Then, just for the span of time He read or heard her words, everything would return to a slow pace, and she was sure to take in every little detail possible when in their conversations. This routine of dissociation, she could only describe it as, continued, until she received the package from Benjamin, and held it in her hands. Any conversation Benjamin tried to make with her was pushed off and ignored, and she was quick to retreat with the package back to her office, where the blinds were closed and the door locked.

She stared down at the chemical cocktail, now in a numb, unblinking manner. Again she felt uncertainties rising to her surface thoughts once more as they had when she had first been entrusted with the project, making themselves known through a twist in her stomach and a shake of her hand.

She would never, ever, doubt what Syphus ordered. She did not take Him to make decisions hastily. Surely lots of time and thought had gone into his decision of asking her to complete this project for Him, then an equal amount of consideration had gone into his decision to bring this project to fruition too. So why was it that she found herself... reluctant? As much as she felt she did not want to use that word to describe how she felt on the matter, it was the only thing that truly fit. Deborah, despite her arrogance and all her flaws, still contributed majorly to Syntec’s research, she and her work would most certainly be missed. There would be a hole left in the heart of Syntec with her gone, and Autumn did not think there were many, if any, other people truly capable of filling that void. Yet, despite this, Syphus seemed so sure that there would not be any repercussions, should everything go correctly. She had to trust Him, as He trusted her.

Sixteen ounces was a lot, she knew that, and part of her was incredibly glad Syphus hadn’t questioned the surplus in the order. Truth be told, it was for multiple doses. Sure, she had one main task; to terminate Deborah, however, should her first attempt fail, she had something to fall back on. Most importantly, seeing as this sort of project was a sign of utmost trust from Syphus, she did not expect for this to be the last termination of its kind.

She was careful to combine the two barbiturates, stirring them together with the utmost caution, and decanted them into little vials, small enough to hide up one’s sleeve, small enough to be discarded in a waste bin and not be noticed, yet big enough still to be a lethal dose. She

tried convincing herself that obtaining the barbiturates was the hardest part of this project, and that everything else from thereon out was easy.

She had absolutely no idea just how wrong she was.

It had been a long night, she spent most of it awake, toiling over paperwork from the lab, project reports for Deborah, incident reports for God knows what; she knew they were never truly reported. Eventually, the fatigue got the best of her, and her body forced her to sleep right where she was at her desk. It wasn’t the first time she had fallen asleep as such, nor would it be the last. It always left her with a great deal of neck pain, but she never grew any wiser to it; those papers were more important than anything.

A distant honking of a horn woke her up, sending her jumping upright from her desk at the distantly loud sound. She sat wide-eyed for a moment as her heart raced, threatening to pound out of her chest at such a ridiculous scare. It took her a few minutes to get her wits about her, before finally looking down at the pages on the desk, checking on the progress she had made the previous night. The incident report was filled out in her spindly writing, all boxes and requirements filled out except for her signature, which she was quick to scribble in with a careless hand. Her attention then turned to the silent Apple II sitting on her desk, which she reached over and turned on. The screen flickered to life, and after typing in her log-in information, turned to the chat between her and Syphus left open from the night previous, but the green text yielded a new message from Him; They’re out of cream in the break room.

She rubbed her eye and looked towards the clock on the desk, reading to her that it was three minutes to six. Her alarm was set to go off in three minutes. She wondered what time Syphus had His alarm set to, or if He had slept at all. He was always so dedicated to His work that she wouldn’t doubt that He pulled many all-nighters getting work done, doing experiments... it was a noble notion, one perhaps she should adopt for herself.

She pulled the heavyset computer towards her and typed out her reply, praying that she hadn’t left the message unanswered for long; she would hate to have kept Him waiting.

Regular or Vanilla?

She leaned back in the chair, watching the screen in front of her eagerly, bouncing her knee as she waited for His response. She tapped her finger on the desk to an invisible rhythm of a song only she could hear, one she imagined to match the tempo of His heart beat, not that there was anybody else in her little studio apartment to hear it anyways.

Her apartment was bare with a completely minimalist look to it. It hadn’t always been like that; at one point it had been covered with posters and little decorations, but that had all changed when she had overheard Syphus offhandedly mention that He thought such decorations were “juvenile”. Above all else, she did not wish to appear as juvenile to Him. The only sort of thing that could be considered a decoration in her apartment was a single vial of red liquid sitting on a shelf. It was something she prized; the first thing Syphus had commended her on; her contribution to Project Pegasus.

The shifting of text on the screen drew her regard back to the computer to read the new message: Mocha.

One simple word was enough to pull her completely from any residual sleepiness she had fogging her mind. The cobwebs cleared, and she sat up straight, typing her response; Yes sir?

His response didn’t take even half as long as it had at first.

I would like a status report on the project.

She debated for a second, wiggling her fingers over the keyboard as though typing an invisible message, gathering her thoughts before typing out the report.

I have received and prepared the chemical in several small quantities. They are safely and discreetly stored until the time comes, which will be soon. I will be placing the next step of my plan into progress within the week.

His response came immediately.

Today.
Sir?

I need the project to commence today, Autumn. Time is ticking.
She frowned, glancing towards her papers; sure, she had finished the report she had started the previous night, but she had many other things on her plate as well. She supposed He had mentioned before that this project took priority above all others. Still, it felt almost rushed. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t feel ready; she wanted more time, more time to make sure there were no flaws in her plan, nothing that popped out at her last-second. It had only been a week since He initially brought the project up with her. Perhaps she simply didn’t understand the urgency of this project to the extent that He had implied?

Sir, I am not confident that the project is ready to commence. I still have more work on it I would like to get done; I would like to observe the subject’s routine to gauge when the best time to proceed would be.

As much as she wanted to be right by His side, give Him a “yes sir” and have it done, she simply did not quite feel as though it were possible yet; she didn’t know Deborah’s schedule, she didn’t have any ideas on how she would be able to administer the dosage.
Should she have to do it today, it would have to be completely improvised, and she was not sure that it was safe to proceed on those implications.

I like to see that you wish to be thorough, Autumn, but I am afraid you do not understand the gravity of this project; it must be prompt. I understand you may be nervous, but I assure you that I would not have entrusted this project to you had I thought you incapable of being successful. You do not doubt me, do you?

She jumped to the keyboard, shaking her head as though He were able to see her through the screen. No, sir, not at all!

Good. Nor do I, you.

She let out a relieved breath and leaned back in her chair, letting herself calm down. She didn’t want Him to think she doubted Him in any way. She trusted Him with her life- she would follow Him to the ends of the earth if He called for it. She needed no proof, He needed not show His work - though she would take any excuse to be able to see His genius at work - she trusted Him completely, just at His word.

Another message came through on the screen.

Autumn dearest, I know you wish to delay the action to give yourself time to deal with the guilt; it is only natural for a callow mind such as yours to react as such. However, do not allow yourself the time to build a guilty conscience, Autumn; guilt forgoes success.

He didn’t even need to speak words out loud to her. All it took was those green words on the screen and the knowledge that He had typed them to fill her with the utmost confidence that she could do the task; that she would do it. It would be done that day.

Understood, sir. The project will commence today.
Wonderful. I knew I could count on you, Autumn.

The rest of her morning was spent confirming her research once more, double-checking the effects of the chemical cocktail when consumed. It was much more effective when injected, but it didn’t matter; the cocktail was near tasteless, save for a slightly tangy aftertaste. The two barbiturates acted as failsafes together; in the case that the paralytic failed, the potassium would ensure cardiac arrest; and should the potassium fail, the paralytic would attack the central nervous system and shut the whole body down. However, when they acted together, whether injected or ingested, they were lethal. Although ingesting it wouldn’t be as fast as injecting it, Autumn didn’t need it to be fast; Deborah would be dead by the time the day was out, one way or another. The chemicals would do their job, the volume in which they were going to be ingested would insure that.

Throughout the whole morning that Autumn was inside the Syntec building, she had the tiny clear vial tucked up her sleeve. She couldn’t afford to be without it all day, just in case the opportunity arose without any warning, and indeed, it did.

The opportunity she seized arose at noon, when she passed by Deborah working at a desk, completely alone.

Autumn made a beeline for the break room, where she proceeded to prepare two styrofoam cups of coffee. She took a glance around to make sure nobody was there before sliding the vial out from her sleeve. She pulled the black stopper out, and hovered it over the cup... but froze for a moment. A painful knot developed in her stomach, one that made her think for a split second that she might be sick.

Was she seriously going to go through with this? For a second, it felt as though she had a blinding moment of clarity; was she seriously going to ‘terminate’ one of their head scientists? Deborah, no less? Not even for a second had she stopped to question why Syphus wanted her dead.

Dead... For some reason, using that word felt a lot more stark. It felt more shocking for her brain to process that she was about to kill somebody. Substituting in the word ‘terminate’ had almost watered the matter down to something that wasn’t even half as serious as it actually was. If this went wrong, if she were to be caught, she could go to jail. She would be sentenced for murder on the first degree. Was that something she wanted to risk? Even disregarding the legal consequences, would she be able to deal with the guilt of it? Would she even feel guilt for doing this? Would she ever sleep easy again-

“Good afternoon, Autumn.”

The voice behind her, appearing from nowhere, made her jump, and the contents of the vial dripped into the coffee with the sudden jerk of her body. Hastily, she dumped the whole thing in before shoving it up her sleeve again, and finally looked over her shoulder to see Deborah standing at the doorway, entering the break room.

“Good afternoon,” she responded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she picked up a stir stick and quickly stirred the invisible solution into the coffee.

“How are you today?”

“I’m doing just fine, how about you?”

There was a moment of silence, which caused Autumn to look over her shoulder to Deborah, who seemed to be eying her with some sort of skepticism. “I’m doing well... are you sure you’re fine? You seem... off-put.”

“Sorry,” Autumn laughed nervously, tapping the stir stick on the rim of the cup before letting it sit in the liquid. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“I understand that,” Deborah responded with a dry laugh, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter now, having made her way across the room. “Nelson hasn’t been drowning you with too much work, has he?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, not at all. It’s nothing I can’t handle; He’s completely reasonable with the workload. My days have just been so busy, with trials and shadowing you that all the paperwork I have is left for the night.”

“He trusts you a lot,” Deborah said. “He had a lot more faith in you when you joined than I did, I’ll admit.”

Autumn tilted her head a bit. “Oh?”

“I thought you would just be another rookie, like the rest, that you would drop everything and run when the work got dirty... but you’ve stood steadfast. I see why he put his trust in you, Autumn; your head’s in the right place. His trust rubbed off on me.”

She stood silent for a moment, blinking speechlessly at the sudden heart-to-heart from the normally cold and distant woman.

“Thank you, ma’am... may I ask why you’re saying this all of a sudden?”

“It just felt right. Don’t take advantage of this.”

“No- no, no! Of course not, I just... I appreciate it. I’m glad I’ve earned your trust.” As she smiled at Deborah, she handed over the steaming styrofoam cup.

“Nelson isn’t easy to win over. You must have done something worthwhile to get where you are.” With that, she took a sip from the cup, and left the break room, leaving Autumn to swallow a thick lump that had arose in her throat again, as she slowly turned her eyes to the styrofoam cup still in front of her, the stir stick sitting in it statically, serving no more purpose than to give her another reminder that she had purposely handed over the wrong cup.

She leaned against the counter, letting out a strained breath, finding her eyes blurring suddenly with tears, which despite her attempts to try and blink away, only fell down into the coffee in front of her.

She failed Him. No doubt that was her one and only chance, and she messed it up. She chickened out, allowed the guilty conscience to build up just as Syphus warned her not to. It wasn’t even that her method failed, which would have been bad enough. It wasn’t the chemicals that messed it up, it wasn’t an unseen reaction between the solution and the packaged sugar, it was her; She was the fault in the plan- the only thing Syphus really fully trusted in the project was the one to fail.

With a silent sob, she picked the cup up and dumped it into the sink before tossing it carelessly into the bin and leaving the break room, masking her glassy eyes behind a lowered head as she hurried back to her office.

For the rest of the day, nothing got done; she sat at her desk and stared blankly down at a report in front of her. None of the words made it to her brain, rather, they only blurred together and made up gibberish. There was only one thing going through her head, only two words; I failed.

Nearing the end of the day, the phone on her desk rang, sending her stomach lurching to her throat. She hesitated before answering it; she knew who it was on the other line, but finally, on what would have been the last ring, she picked the phone up and held it up to her ear.

“Is it done?”

The cold tone on the other line sent shivers down her spine, and put a cold grip around her heart. She was silent, lips parted as she tried to form the words she dreaded speaking. They sat on the tip of her tongue, yet despite her reluctant efforts, they wouldn’t come out.

“Autumn?”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, s-sorry, I uh...” she trailed off for a second. “I... no. It’s not done.”

She didn’t need to see His face to know there was a clear look of disappointment on it; She could hear it in the momentary silence on His end, and then in His words.

“And why not?”

She rested her head against her free hand, shaking her head in pure disdain at herself. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”

“Couldn’t.”

“Tell me the truth, Autumn.”

Once again, she was silent, biting back the sobs of pure anger rising in her throat. “Wouldn’t.”

His sigh sent tears spilling down her cheeks. She knew He was upset, disappointed; as was she at herself. Everything He felt, she was feeling just the same.

“It seems I overestimated you.”

“I-I’ll make this up to you! I swear I will, I-” her voice stopped dead in its tracks as she heard a click, and the line went dead. Slowly, she set the phone back down on the receiver, taking a deep and shaky breath, whispering to herself the finish to her promise;

“I swear.”

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Stay tuned for the last Subject 4 short story next Friday at 2pm PST! As a reminder, the first chapter of Season 5 will uploaded on Friday August 5th at 2pm PST!