Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties

The warehouse looked different now.

Cleaner. Organized.

This was the Hawks’ old base. The place Liam and Shay’s crew had taken after the fight with Iggy. After everything went down.

Concrete floors swept clean. Most of the broken crates cleared out and stacked against the far wall. A few folding chairs scattered around. Some tables pushed together near the center. Basic setup. Functional.

Afternoon light filtered through the high windows. Dust particles floating in the beams. The air smelled like concrete and old wood.

Shay stood near the center of the room. Arms crossed. His shadow stretching long across the floor. Looking down at something on one of the tables.

Damien was beside him. Hands shoved deep in his pockets. The stitches on his face from the fight with Iggy’s crew were still visible. Black thread against skin that was healing but not quite healed yet. A line running from his left eyebrow down to his cheekbone.

They were both staring at the same thing.

A metal briefcase. Silver. Sitting closed on the table between them. The surface scratched. Worn. Like it had been through a lot.

Damien shook his head slowly. Pulled one hand out of his pocket and gestured at the briefcase. "I can’t believe you’re actually trying to use this."

Shay didn’t look at him. Just kept his eyes locked on the briefcase. His jaw working slightly. Thinking. "He said i could use it."

"Really?" Damien’s voice had an edge to it. He turned his whole body toward Shay now. Squared up. "Didn’t you see what that drug did to their boss?"

"Yeah." Shay’s voice was flat. "I did."

Damien stepped closer. His boots scraping against the concrete. "If that guy had actually tried fighting you straight up, he would’ve killed you instantly. You know that, right?"

Shay’s jaw tightened. His arms stayed crossed. But he didn’t respond.

Damien exhaled hard through his nose. Rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. His fingers working at the tension there. "But we’re asking the wrong question here."

Shay finally looked at him. Turned his head. Met his eyes. "What question?"

"Why the hell do you even need this?" Damien gestured at the briefcase again. His hand cutting through the air. Sharp. "You clearly said it yourself. This stuff made that guy different. Maybe even superhuman?"

Shay’s eyes narrowed. "So what’s your point?"

Damien stared at him. Hard. "Are you seriously not seeing something wrong here? You saw how dangerous this drug is. How it turned Iggy into something else. Something stronger. Faster." He paused. Let that sink in. "And Liam still beat him."

Shay went quiet.

His arms uncrossed slowly. His hands dropped to his sides. He looked back down at the briefcase. Not saying anything.

Damien kept going. His voice getting louder. "Why are you acting like that didn’t happen? Liam fought that same guy and won. Without any of this." He pointed at the briefcase again.

The warehouse was quiet except for their voices. The distant sound of traffic outside. A car horn. Faint.

Shay looked down at the table. His hands came up. Rested flat on the surface on either side of the briefcase. His fingers spread wide. He stared at them for a long moment.

Then he spoke. Slow. Measured. "Okay. Now that we know that, what do you think should happen next?"

Damien’s jaw tightened. He crossed his arms. "Kick him out of the gang for keeping something like that from us."

Shay’s head lifted. He looked at Damien. Really looked. His eyes searching Damien’s face. "You really think that’s the answer?"

"Don’t you?"

Shay was quiet again. He pushed off the table. Stood up straight. Took a breath. Then he shook his head. "You’re completely right about one thing. But you of all people should know that the gang isn’t like the others. It’s not built on fear or control. It’s built to give people the chance to have their own opinions. To make their own choices."

Damien didn’t respond. Just watched him. Waiting.

Shay started pacing. Slow steps. Back and forth in front of the table. His hands moving as he talked. "Liam could’ve kept that power hidden. Could’ve just used it when he needed to and left us to handle our own shit. But he didn’t. He chose to reveal it. He used it to fight for our sake. For this crew."

Damien’s expression didn’t change. But he didn’t interrupt.

Shay stopped pacing. Turned to face Damien fully. "I’m not saying you should trust him yet. But I do. Because anyone willing to fight a battle that isn’t for their own benefit is someone I respect. Even for a thug like myself."

Damien stared at him for a long moment. His arms still crossed. Then he sighed. Deep. Long. Rubbed his face with one hand. Dragged it down from his forehead to his chin. "Alright. Fine." He looked back at the briefcase. "So are you using it now?"

Shay turned. Looked at the briefcase too. His expression unreadable. The light from the window hitting the side of his face. Casting half of it in shadow. "Nah. Not until he’s here."

They both stood there. Staring at it. Neither of them moving. The briefcase sitting between them like something alive. Waiting.

---

Fifteen minutes later, the warehouse door creaked.

Loud. The hinges protesting.

Liam pushed it open. Stepped inside. The door swung shut behind him with a heavy thud that echoed through the space.

His footsteps echoed on the concrete as he walked toward the center of the room. Each step deliberate. Steady.

Shay and Damien were sitting now. On folding chairs near the table. Damien had a cigarette between his fingers. The smoke curling up slowly toward the ceiling. He took a drag. His cheeks hollowing slightly. Held it. Then exhaled. The smoke streaming out of his nose.

They both looked up as Liam approached.

Damien’s eyes tracked him. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth. Looked at it for a second. Then dropped it on the floor. The ember still glowing.

He lifted his boot. Brought it down hard. The cigarette crushed under his heel. The embers dying instantly. A small smear of ash left on the concrete.

No one said anything at first.

The silence stretched. Heavy.

Then Shay stood. The chair scraping against the floor. He gestured toward the table with one hand. "Come on."

Liam walked over. His bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped next to them. Let the bag drop to the floor. It landed with a soft thud.

All three of them stood in front of the briefcase now. Shay in the middle. Damien on his left. Liam on his right.

A triangle formation. All of them looking down.

Shay reached down. His fingers finding the latches on either side of the briefcase. He flipped them. One. Then the other. The sound sharp. Metallic. Cutting through the quiet.

He paused. His hands resting on the lid.

Then he opened it.

The hinges creaked slightly. The lid lifting. Revealing the contents inside.

Rows of small glass vials. Maybe twenty of them. Each one nestled in foam padding. Held in place. The vials were filled with a clear liquid. Completely transparent. Like water. But thicker somehow. The way it moved when the briefcase shifted.

Beside the vials were a few syringes. Sealed in plastic. Unused. Sterile.

Shay stared at it for a moment. His expression hard to read. Then he looked at Liam.

"So are you sure this stuff is safe?"

Damien turned his head. Looked at Liam too. His eyes sharp. Waiting for the answer.

Liam looked down at the vials. His hands in his pockets. "Kind of."

Both of them stared at him.

The word hung in the air.

Shay frowned. His eyebrows pulling together. "I thought you said it was safe earlier."

"The complete version is safe," Liam said. He pulled one hand out of his pocket. Gestured at the briefcase. At the vials. "But this? This is kind of safe. There’s just one thing."

Shay’s eyes narrowed. His jaw tightening. "What’s that?"

Liam took a breath. Looked at Shay directly. "Taking something like this requires your body to change. On a cellular level. Your muscles. Your bones. Your nervous system. All of it has to adapt to handle the enhancement. And that process isn’t instant. It takes time. And when it happens, your body has to work through it. Which means the physical change happens first. Before your body can fully process what’s happening."

Shay stared at him. Not blinking. "What does that mean?"

"It means it’s going to hurt. A lot."

Damien let out a short laugh. Sharp. Almost a bark. "Holy shit. So that’s why that guy was screaming like someone was ripping his fingernails off with pliers."

Liam nodded. "Exactly."

Shay looked back down at the briefcase. His jaw working. Thinking. Then he looked at Liam again. His voice steady. "Are you willing to go through that pain?"

"I already did," Liam said.

Shay studied him for a moment. His eyes searching Liam’s face. Looking for something. Then he nodded slowly. "Alright."

He turned to Damien. "Light a stick for me."

Damien raised an eyebrow. His mouth twitching slightly. Almost a smirk. He shrugged. "Whatever."

He reached into his jacket pocket. Pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Marlboro Reds. The pack crumpled slightly from being carried around. He tapped the bottom against his palm. Hard. Once. Twice. One cigarette slid out from the top.

He pulled it free with two fingers. Held it out to Shay.

Shay took it. His fingers brushing Damien’s briefly. "Thanks."

Damien pulled out a lighter. Blue plastic. Cheap. He flicked it. The flame appeared. Small. Steady. Orange.

Shay leaned forward. Put the cigarette between his lips. The filter resting against his bottom lip. He let Damien light it.

The end of the cigarette glowed. Red. Bright.

Shay took a long drag. Deep. His chest expanding. Held it in his lungs for a moment. His eyes closing briefly.

Then he exhaled. Slow. The smoke rising up toward the warehouse ceiling. Curling. Dissipating.

He looked at the cigarette. At the glowing ember at the tip. Watched it for a second. Then he looked back at Damien and Liam.

"Now I’m ready."

He walked over to one of the folding chairs. His steps deliberate. He turned it. Positioned it so it faced them. Then he sat down. Slow. His back straight. His arms resting on the armrests. Hands loose.

Damien moved to the table. Picked up one of the syringes. Still sealed in plastic. He tore the plastic open with his teeth. Spit the wrapper onto the floor. Pulled the syringe out.

Then he picked up one of the vials. Held it up to the light. The liquid inside catching the light. Clear. Pure.

Liam grabbed a piece of cloth from the table. A strip of torn fabric. Clean but worn. He walked over to Shay. Knelt down beside the chair. His knee hitting the concrete.

Shay held out his left arm. Steady. No hesitation.

Liam wrapped the cloth around Shay’s upper arm. Just above the elbow. Pulled it tight. Tied it. The fabric pressing into the skin.

The veins in Shay’s forearm became more visible. Dark blue lines under the skin. Raised. Pulsing slightly.

Damien walked over. The syringe in one hand. The vial in the other. He inserted the needle into the vial. Drew the liquid up. Slow. Watching the plunger rise. The syringe filling.

When it was full, he pulled it out. Held the syringe up. Tapped it with one finger. A small air bubble rose to the top. He pressed the plunger slightly. The bubble disappeared. A tiny drop of liquid formed at the tip of the needle.

He looked at Shay. "You ready?"

Shay took another drag from the cigarette. Deep. Held it. His chest not moving. Then he exhaled. Slow. The smoke streaming out. "Yeah."

Damien knelt down. Positioned the needle over Shay’s vein. The tip hovering just above the skin. He pressed it against the surface. Then pushed.

The needle slid in. Smooth. Easy.

Shay didn’t flinch. Didn’t make a sound. Just watched. His eyes locked on the syringe.

Damien pressed down on the plunger. Slow. Steady. The clear liquid inside the syringe disappeared. Flowing into Shay’s bloodstream. Vanishing.

When it was empty, Damien pulled the needle out. Stepped back. Stood up.

Shay lowered his arm. Reached down with his other hand. Untied the cloth himself. The fabric loosening. He let it drop to the floor. It landed in a small heap beside the chair.

He took another drag from the cigarette. His hand steady. Calm.

Liam stood. Took a step back. Looked at him. "How do you feel?"

Shay opened his mouth to answer.

Then his eyes widened.

The cigarette fell from his hand. Dropped. Hit the floor. Rolled. The ember still glowing.

His whole body went rigid. Every muscle locking up at once. His hands gripped the armrests. Hard. So hard his knuckles went white. The skin stretched tight over bone.

His breathing changed. Faster. Sharper. Shallow. Like he couldn’t get enough air.

Then the pain hit.

Shay’s head dropped back. Snapped back against the chair. His mouth opened. Wide. A sound tore out of him.

Not a scream. Not yet. Just a low, guttural sound. Animalistic. Like something was being pulled out of him from the inside.

His muscles tensed. Visibly. His arms bulging. His shoulders straining. His neck cording. Everything tightening at once.

Damien stepped forward. His hand reaching out. "Shay—"