Aqua Regia

The laboratory's chill penetrated Ethan's blistered skin, an unending reminder of the grim circumstances he found himself in. The scent of antiseptic mingled with the faint tang of burnt chemicals, lingering ominously in the sterile environment. The only sound breaking the eerie silence was the occasional, distant hum of machinery, akin to the drone of a distant beehive.

In this cavernous hollow of human desperation, the mad scientist stood, poised to exit, his shadow stretched long and monstrous across the grimy concrete floor. Ethan, bound and beaten, lay sprawled on a worn-out recliner, his body more a canvas of torturous experimentations than the flesh and blood of a thriving young man. His lips, chapped and broken, leaked a thin trail of blood, the iron scent filling his nostrils.

His weary eyes, full of determined fire, darted to the bucket resting carelessly on a steel table nearby. It contained a swirling concoction, an energy liquid that glistened with an unnatural radiance. It was the scientist's lifeblood, a potent brew that gave him the strength to keep up his cruel machinations.

Ethan steeled himself, his mind focusing on the bucket, his sight fine-tuning, calculating the distance with the precision of a seasoned sniper. A concoction of scientific knowledge he'd hoarded over years whirled around his brain, formulating a plan that teetered precariously between life and death.

With all the force he could muster, Ethan bit deeper into his lip, the metallic taste of blood bursting forth. He huffed, using the last remnants of his energy to create a gust of air that carried his blood-speckled spit, a droplet of red amidst the sterile atmosphere. His blood, like a comet in a starless night, travelled, cutting across the dank air of the lab, before plopping neatly into the radiant liquid in the bucket.

The swirling liquid accepted his blood with a quiet splash, a ripple dancing on its surface. Ethan, his eyes almost blind from pain, blinked heavily as he forced the air to stir the liquid, twirling the mixture like a miniature storm in a teacup. His blood dissipated into the elixir, turning it from an innocent cerulean to a sinister crimson. It was a poisonous cocktail now, marked by his suffering.

A weak smile traced Ethan's lips, his eyes flickering towards the now vacant doorway where the scientist had exited. A whisper, choked and bitter, escaped him, "When you drink this elixir, doctor, it'll be laced with my vengeance. With every drop, you'll taste the poison of my existence."

His words were lost in the echoing silence of the lab, a silent vow that echoed in the recesses of the bleak room. His plan was set. Now, it was a waiting game.

***

The sterile gloom of the lab was broken by the mad scientist's arrival the next day, his laughter echoing through the room like a macabre symphony. He sauntered towards Ethan, a gleeful smirk etched onto his disfigured face, his scorched skin pulsating in the harsh, fluorescent light.

"Ah, you're still alive," he gloated, his voice resonating with a chilling, heartless delight. His hands, decorated in sterile gloves, gently prodded Ethan, eliciting a wince and a soft whimper from the battered man. "Don't hurry to the afterlife, my dear guinea pig. You are still of use to me," he said, his voice a razor-sharp shard of ice.

Ethan clenched his jaw, swallowing the pain as he focused on the bucket. It sat innocently on the table, the liquid within it swirling ominously, tainted by his blood. The anticipation bubbled inside him, a gnawing sensation that wriggled its way into his thoughts.

As the mad scientist's cruel experimentation proceeded, Ethan bore the pain, his eyes never leaving the bucket. When the tormentor finally deemed his work done, he moved back to his chair, his body settling with an audible sigh.

His gloved hand reached out for the bucket, lifting the radiant liquid to his lips. Time seemed to elongate, each second stretching into an eternity as Ethan watched, his heart pounding against his ribcage. A silent plea hung heavy in the air.

And then, the moment of truth arrived. The scientist gulped down the liquid, his face a mask of satisfaction. But the satisfaction was short-lived. He choked, his eyes widening in disbelief. His body convulsed, his fingers clutching at his throat, the bucket clattering onto the floor, the crimson liquid splashing against the cold, concrete floor.

"What... what did you do?" He gasped, his voice barely a whisper, his gaze full of sudden dread as he stared at Ethan.

Ethan met his gaze, his eyes filled with defiance and grim satisfaction, "Just returning the favor, doctor. How does it feel, tasting your own poison?" His voice was quiet, but it carried a deadly promise, echoing the scientist's own chilling words back at him. He had turned the tables, and now, it was the mad scientist's turn to taste fear.

Bound by the heavy iron chains, Ethan found himself feeling like an alchemist of old, as he devised a plan to escape. With his encyclopedic knowledge of chemistry, he knew that Aqua Regia, a potent blend of nitric and hydrochloric acid, had the power to dissolve iron.

His heart pounding with anticipation and nerves, he focused his energies on manipulating the very essence of the universe around him. He aimed to harness the unfathomable laws of Alternative Physics to transform the elements in the air, the grime on the floor, into Aqua Regia.

Slowly, ethereal patterns began to swirl around his hands, converging into a sparkling pool of yellow-orange liquid. The pungent smell of the acid assaulted his senses, a testament to the terrifying power he held in his hands.

He applied it to his iron bonds, and they began to hiss and bubble, the once formidable metal chains starting to disintegrate under the corrosive assault. A triumphant grin stretched across his face as the last of his chains fell apart, the metallic clatter echoing in the room like a declaration of his newfound freedom.

With newfound determination, Ethan pushed his weakened body to its limits, forcing himself to limp towards the mad scientist, his body slumped and convulsing on the cold, hard floor. Each step was a new jolt of pain, but the sight of the scientist's suffering fueled Ethan's determination.

From the depths of his willpower, Ethan manifested a gun. The weapon formed from his very energy was a physical manifestation of his will to survive, his defiance against the scientist's machinations. He loaded the gun, his hands shaking slightly, as he approached the dying scientist.

He gazed at the man who had tormented him, who had turned him into a lab rat, the scientist's face pale and contorted in agony. The air was heavy, filled with a mixture of dread, satisfaction, and an inexplicable sense of closure.

He lifted the gun, his aim unwavering despite his trembling hands. With a final resolute look into the mad scientist's terrified eyes, he pulled the trigger.

The echo of the gunshot bounced off the cold, sterile walls, a harsh interruption to the gruesome symphony of the mad scientist's death throes. As the scientist's body fell silent and still, Ethan stood over him, exhausted but free, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. His tormentor was no more.