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Year: 2080, May 15th.

Time: 20:00pm.

Location: Club Nova, Basement.

I was immediately sent to the Doctors once we got back to the club, so I hardly had any idea as to what was going to happen with Viggo and his sister, Celeste; part of me thought she was going to be here a while, whilst another part made the assumption that Viggo would send her off again in a matter of days. Viggo had that kind of personality; the kind of mind that no one can figure out fully and, even if someone did, there would be another mind underneath it all to figure out...basically, you never knew what he would do about something until he told you. Either way, it didn't matter much to me at that moment; the most important thing for me to do was to find out just what was wrong with me...even if it meant going to the Club's 'doctor'.

Doctor Vance Caro wasn't exactly a bad Fox...as far as Seekers went; he was nice, young, kind, sympathetic and, most importantly, there were no 'buts' when describing him; everybody I asked could find no specific fault with him, even his...certain Fetishes. He had as much a part in my life as Fawx did; partly because I always got into a few scrapes, but mostly because of sudden infections or illnesses I would find myself in; but now wasn't either of those cases. It even took the Doctor by surprise when I came in looking as though I had taken a red marker to...well, all over my body.

I lay down stark-naked on the large lab-table in the centre of the makeshift clinic; it wasn't as if Seekers could go to just any hospital and have bullets taken out of their body with no questions asked; hence why we needed a personal doctor to run the small clinic that was created just underneath the Club. By now my body felt as though it was on fire, but somehow coping with the immense heat; my heart hadn't stopped its 'two-beats-per-second' rhythm at all, sending my mind into a state of hysteria. Why wasn't I having a full-on heart attack? Why would I be feeling such heat if I was cold-blooded? Why were my scales red all of a sudden?

"Well at least your shoulder is fine." Doctor Caro interrupted my train of thoughts, sitting down on the lab table I was on and rubbing his eyes out of tiredness; "but I have a tiny bit of bad news concerning every other part of your body...depending on your perspective..."

I didn't like the sound of that one bit; the only way I could cope was by looking around the room, trying to detach myself from the present moment and focus on specific parts of the clinic. Overall, it was just a bunch of different laboratory rooms put together, all of them with sterile-white walls; a few cupboards were leaning against one wall of the room I was in, holding numerous chemicals, antibiotics, bandages and so on; the opposite wall had only a large white screen attached to it, holding many different bone-scans and ECG's, all of them mine. The exit out of the room was right in front of me, though I noticed the door was completely locked for some reason.

I briefly tilted my head upwards and looked behind me, making note of the large amounts of bondage-equipment hanging from the white-tiled wall; whips, chains, paddles, an odd can of mace, lots of leather and latex restraints. My mind began to race with thoughts of being dominated by the Doctor...even if I didn't trust doctors that much. The only problem I had with them was, incidentally, my own body; my back had an unnatural 'arc' to it, practically begging to be dissected and snapped back into place; I had never been under a knife before, and the sheer thought of it frightened me. But it wasn't as if Doctor Caro would do anything I was unwilling to do...he was nice like that...

"Why have a can of mace..." I began slowly, ignoring what Caro was saying as I shut out everything but the wall I was looking at; "...on a wall of bondage-equipment...in a laboratory...used as a medical room?"

"It all comes in handy when testing for pain-responses," The Doctor replied quickly, picking up the clipboard hanging from the edge of the lab-table, right next to my foot-claws. "As well as other tests...a good example would be your initiation a few weeks ago."

"I can see why a can of mace would come in handy for that." I spoke in a sarcastic manner, but in a way that it was hard to tell if I was actually being sarcastic or just acting innocent.

"Well there is this Green Dragon called Damien, and he sometimes..." Caro was about to justify having a can of mace in his selection of 'toys', but my patience was beginning to wear a little thin; I looked at him expectantly. "...all your test results link to the same condition. It's directly associated with sexual relations with a Red-Scale, though the chance of inheriting said condition is extremely rare..."

I put up one claw and motioned for him to skip ahead of the 'why it was' and straight to the 'what it was'; of course once I picked up on the words 'sexual relations with a red-Scale' my mind had already made a conclusion as to the 'why it happened', the 'how it happens', the 'what it is' and of course the 'what the fuck am I supposed to do now that I have it'. My body was still on fire, though my nervous system had somehow managed to adapt to the intense feeling, as though I was aware of the heat, but I didn't care because that was how it was.

"...You have Red-Scale...terminal." Caro sighed, rubbing his forehead with on paw as the other set down the clipboard; I was unfazed at the short explanation - well, as unfazed as I could be with a body of fire - and slowly got up from the table, taking one deep sigh and blankly looking at the tiled floor beneath me.

"What do you mean by 'terminal'?" I asked slowly, looking up at Caro for a moment just before lying back on the table again, eyeing the large glass cupboard to my left and inspecting my reflection. I shared roughly the same red-scales as Elle did; it started at the spines of my beard, running down my stomach in circular patterns and eventually having all of the patterns end around my groin-area; I had even noticed that I had the same eight red circles running along my back; four on the left and four on the right.

"Well, Females are able to control the effects much better than Males, since they are born with the condition." The Doctor began to explain, sitting down just next to my legs. "Males are able to inherit the condition through breeding, but all Red-Scales experience the same things; intense body-heat, various mental habits...but the two most notable effects are Bloodlust and the addiction to mating with others."

"Well that's just...inconvenient." I managed to let out beyond my now-heavy breathing; as soon as Caro said the words 'addiction to mating' I was instantly reminded of my...nymphomania; it wasn't so much of a problem, bring in a nightclub full of 'helpful' people - though the most I would ever get were a few handjobs to relieve the stress - but combined with Red-Scale...

"But the deadliest effect recorded in Males is...mind deterioration..." Caro said slowly, placing one paw on my leg as a bit of comfort; I had already guessed what would be coming next. "If you're prevented from breeding or...giving into the condition - that is, if you don't kill or breed repeatedly - part of your mind will begin to force it on you; you'll either lose your whole mind in it...or you'll have to obey the Red-Scale part of you for the rest of your life."

The first few seconds after being told this was spent feeling trapped; if I didn't kill or fuck to keep my mind from losing itself, I would eventually be forced into the situation where my mind won't have to force itself to kill or fuck, because by then I would have no mind left...of course, the part after those few seconds was much more productive and optimistic - as far as having a mind-deteriorating sexually-transmitted condition goes, of course.

Many Red-Scales, male or female, had pretty decent lives, so I had heard; some were employed as singers or dancers in no small part due to their ability to alter their vocal chords - though this was always in the case of being a female - and due to the appealing patterns of red on their bodies. But that wasn't the kind of live I was thinking about; most males ended up being employed as hit-men or assassins, and that was what appealed to me most. I had to admit, the Club was in need of people who are willing to take the blame for one murder or another; we had little friends, and even less willing to make a murder 'un-happen'.

"...I'd like to go back to my room now." I said lowly, deep in thought of what my choices were now; part of me even wanted to leave it all behind and settle down somewhere with another Red-Scale...maybe Elle; but she would never accept. She might think about it. The thought of a relationship between me and her may have already crossed her mind. Maybe she would say yes?

"Go ahead; you should probably rest your shoulder anyway." Caro replied quickly, indicating the wounds on both my shoulders - one from that day, the other before that - as I reached out for my biosuit hanging from one of the walls.

I fitted everything on as quickly as I could, determined to get as much distance between me and Caro as I could, before my instincts decided to shoot up again and I'd end up with more than a few bullet wounds.

My mind was left to explore...well, itself, as I left my body lying on the bed in my room, all the while asking the same two-answered question, hoping for a decision to appear out of nowhere; I could either become an Assassin for the Club and kill for a living, or I could just give it all up and settle down with Elle if she wanted to. She didn't even know that I'd contracted Red-Scale from her yet; I didn't even know how she would respond to the news, or when I would even see her again. I had ended up with the kind of decision that never gives a good-bad choice; both choices were bad for someone, whether it be me, the Club or Elle.

My mind eventually returned to my body as I got up to try pacing around my room; it seemed like the kind of movement that would influence my mind to make a decision and frankly, my mind just didn't agree that a lack of movement would be very productive...at least as I paced I would be gaining some more leg-muscle. What I didn't expect to happen, however, was for my mind to reflect on itself instead of reflecting on the question I was submitting to it. There was the part of my brain made for thinking, and another part made for moving my body around; and right now, my thinker was wondering why my mover thought it was a good idea to think and move at the same time...

I suddenly stopped pacing, facing the blank, steel-grey wall just above my bed and letting my body calm down; eventually, it let up as I breathed in slowly, deeply, then out again. A sudden realisation had then presented itself to me; I was pacing around, expecting to find an answer as soon as I saw a question...when I can simply forget about it for the moment. I didn't have to decide what I would do right now; I had been through a rough day. I bloody well got shot less than a couple of hours ago, I had been told that I was now a Red-Scale, and now part of me was expecting all the other parts to decide what to do next.

I stared blankly at the wall for an unknown period of time; a nice day off was what I needed; I had been worked too hard over the past couple of days, and I was beginning to feel the aftereffects, and the sudden hyper activeness caused by my 'newly-discovered condition' didn't help one bit. I needed some kind of area of time where I could do anything I wanted; walk around the city, socialise, have some moment of inner-peace before diving back into my life again...but I knew that was too much to ask for.

I eventually settled for a different form of relaxation and quickly moved my body again, pulling out my bed, my bedside tables, everything that wasn't fixed to the walls; with that done, I practically jumped into my bathroom, pulling out several towels and quickly lining them up against the bottom of each wall until every bottom-edge was covered. The only part that I left out was my kitchen-area, which was already framed slightly - much like the bottom two inches of each wall - so that I knew what areas I had to deal with. With everything in place, I finally moved up to the intercom placed just next to my door and pulled the phone out, dialling the 'usual' number...

"Rush, what the hell are you doing ringing me at this time?" Fawx's tired voice spoke over the phone as I made sure all of my biosuit was on...which it was. "You know that every hour after six is rush hour, and not listen-to-Rush hour."

"Dad, I need some paint for my room." I said bluntly, looking over my blank, grey walls and thinking of the right colour to replace it with. "...Purple would be nice...the kind they use on level two."

"...I'll send it up right away." Fawx replied with an edge of curiosity in his voice; of course, anyone would do if someone suddenly rung them up and asked for paint at past eight in the evening.

I hung up the phone and looked around the room, trying to mentally replace the dull grey image with a shade of purple. I always liked the colour of the club on the second-story; it was as if someone had mixed purple with light blue, but it never seemed to mix in completely, leaving an occasional stray mark of blue or purple that seemed to naturally blend in with everything else...it also made good for Rave-Nights.

And hopefully it would make my room a little more colourful than it looked at that moment, thus dampening my urge to go somewhere more 'full of life'; or so my mind had rationalised. Red-Scale can do strange things to a Reptile...