Dr. Forsythe/Monsters
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
Shortly before midnight, Westin Phipps was dragged from his bed by cold steel hands. As they hauled him to his feet, a line of red laser light swept over his lean body like a supermarket scanner; several small objects were quickly removed from his person, leaving some new holes in his pajamas. The intruders were robots, squat and vaguely humanoid; the dim light from his bedside clock hinted at their shapes, glinting off their mechanisms and armor plating, while their sensor lenses glowed redly like the eyes of beasts in the darkness. Only when Phipps was disarmed and his limbs held firmly immobile did the master of these automatons reveal himself by turning on the room light.
Phipps gaped at the familiar face, too shocked and angry to play the saintly owner of Haven House even if they had been in public. "Forsythe? What the hell is this?"
The elderly, pleasant-faced black man in the lab coat smiled. "Really, Westin. I would think that you, of all people, would recognize betrayal when you see it."
"Yes, that's right," Forsythe continued with satisfaction as he saw understanding dawn on the other man's face. "Everything I did for you, all those horrible things, was just so that I could get close to you - for this moment. Perhaps it was a mistake to let myself get sidetracked from my own work ... but ever since I learned the truth about you and Haven House from my Arachnos contacts, I knew I could not let this... deception, this perversion continue.
"So I'll replace one lie with another. You will disappear, under mysterious circumstances, and I will take over Haven House. And I will make it what it is supposed to be, while telling your masters what they want to hear. I will make a lie the truth and the truth a lie."
Forsythe chuckled as he noticed Phipps' furtive motions in the embrace of the largest of his combat drones. "Westin. Do you think I would be here tonight if I didn't know about your secret transmitter and hadn't found a way to jam it?" He held up a small device, not unlike a TV remote. Phipps' face fell; he cursed and spat.
"You're very good at lying," Forsythe conceded, taking a few steps forward so he was eye to eye with the man with the disheveled combover. "But you have so little imagination. Did you ever wonder why things started to go wrong for you at nearly the same time we began our association? I needed you to need me... and I couldn't allow your plans to succeed."
Forsythe leaned closer, his smile widening to a grin. "So I poisoned that food for you, but I marked it so no one would eat it. I let Francine Primm escape. And young Mr. Blenkenship. And I tipped off Manticore anonymously. It was hard for me not to chuckle every time you spoke of another setback. As I said, I'm not as good a liar as you."
Phipps snarled at his betrayer, all decorum forgotten. "So, you think this makes you some kind of hero or something?"
Forsythe stepped back, his expression turning solemn. "No, I don't. A hero never would have done the things I have. No, you had it right the first time we met - do you remember? You said I was a monster. And that's just what I am: a monster." He took a deep breath and let it out in a sad sigh. "Goodbye, Westin."
That was not the last thing to go through Westin Phipps' head; nor was the laser pulse that followed it, flash-cooking his brain. The last thing was the jaw of an Arachnoid mutant, about an hour later, after the body had been dumped down one of the many holes in the Gutter.
Thus did Westin Phipps provide one last unfortunate soul with a hot meal, and Dr. Jeffrey Forsythe come to manage Haven House in his absence, until he should return.
