FIFTY-SIX
The specimen was now ready.
Fully prepared in all its glory.
Now the world would have to take notice.
Time to put it in place. And he knew exactly where he was going to display it.
For him, the specimen was no longer a human being, a living breathing organism, but simply an object by which he would display his mastery, an object of no more consequence as a person than a photograph in a newspaper.
He was ready.
He sat quietly opposite her. At last she would now concede that he was not the failure, the embarrassing f**k-up, she had always claimed him to be, the failure whom she had beaten so savagely when he had begun his journey all those years ago.
