[Center]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/25b9f4eb-a8b1-46ca-8ab3-88c168ed18b3.png[/img]

Joel Beck 
[b]Location[/b]: Grim's secret apartment 
[b]Tags[/b]: Grim[/center]

Green tea Kit-Kats? Gross. Joel made a beeline for the couch and plopped down. The exhaustion was setting in quick. He shook his head at the suggestion of a new therapist. 

"I don't think mine is on whatever this is. She was the one that gave me those files about that doctor Frankensteining me." 

[I]"Frankenstein's monstering, you mean. Frankenstein was the doctor."[/i] Doug was standing next to Grim with his arms crossed, smug. Joel scowled. [I]"Now riddle me this, Batman: what makes you think the good doctor stopped at you? Or the hospital for that matter? There's only so many poor, lonely bastards who's bodies won't be missed by a grieving family. Suppose he and whoever else he's working with found a way to bolster their numbers. Like kidnapping people wholesale off the street. Live, fresh test subjects are better than dead and brain damaged ones."[/i]

"Holy shit, you're right," Joel's eyes grew wide at the realization. He looked back at Grim, "Those bodies we found tonight were all wearing those metal bands, the same bands I took from that apartment. They were using them for identification, just like a hospital band. Ellison, and whoever else he is working with, is directly responsible for killing those people, the kidnappings, [i]everything[/i]. And it's been happening for, at the very minimum, [i]three years[/i]!"

He felt a little sick again. How could this have gone on for so long without anyone noticing?