Chapter 5 - The Confession Beneath the Canvas
"Leo?" Dr. Vance said, his voice dropping an octave into a low, dangerous register that carried no warmth whatsoever. "I didn't realize you were participating in modern art projects with my daughter at this hour."
Slowly, deliberately, Dr. Vance reached out and gripped the edge of the canvas lab coat. With a sharp, practiced jerk, he pulled the fabric away, exposing Leo’s chest, his flushed face, and the heavy, greyish-white blocks of dried plaster encasing both of his hands to the harsh overhead light. The room fell into an absolute, suffocating silence, save for the hum of the overhead ventilation unit.
Leo swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. He tried to offer a weak, apologetic smile, but his jaw felt locked in place. "Hi, Dr. Vance. The... the door was open, and I guess we got a little carried away with the demonstration."
Dr. Vance didn't yell. He didn't throw his hands up in anger or demand an explanation. Instead, he simply walked around the table, his rubber-soled shoes squeaking softly against the linoleum. He reached out and tapped the knuckle of one plaster-encased hand with his fingernail, listening intently to the hollow, solid click it produced.
"This isn't an art project," Dr. Vance said quietly, staring down at the hardened mass with an expression that was entirely unreadable. "This is industrial grade. It cures from the inside out, binding itself to whatever porous surface it touches. Including skin cells, microscopic hair follicles, and the outer layer of the epidermis."
Maya stepped forward, her voice trembling now as the bravest facade finally cracked. "Dad, don't. He didn't mean to find the secondary archive. He just tripped over the floor panel when the shelf shifted."
Dr. Vance slowly turned his head to look at his daughter, his eyes dark and hollow. "You didn't just trap him as a prank, Maya. You did it because he saw the registry numbers, didn't you? He saw what we stored in the sub-basement beneath the old anatomy wing."
Leo’s eyes darted between father and daughter, the pieces of a terrifying puzzle finally clicking into place in his mind. The restricted access, the missing student files from the past three years, and the strange equipment orders that never appeared on any official inventory. They weren't just running a routine biology lab. They were hiding something massive, and now his hands were permanently sealed to a table inside their workshop.
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Before Leo could demand answers, Dr. Vance reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a heavy iron key, and locked the laboratory door from the inside with a definitive, chilling click.
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