He had graduated from university with a PhD in chemistry and had intended to get a job in a lab but instead decided to get a job at a bottle depot. You may ask why, but I will get to that later in the story. His name was Bert Nichols. To many around him they thought he had become unhinged and decided to give up on his life and his career and take the easy way out by getting a dead end job at a bottle depot. Something with no pressure and no expectations. But all of these rumors were nothing close to the truth. During his last year at university he had begun to experiment with designer street drugs that he could make at home with common items you could buy at a grocery store or pharmacy. After about six months he had developed a drug that was more powerful than meth but not powerful enough to kill someone. The key in the formula was to make the drug as addictive as possible but also as cheap as possible.
Now I will backtrack and explain to you why he got a job at a bottle depot sorting bottles. If you haven't figured out why dear reader maybe you're so damn stupid that you don't deserve my presence. Anyway, I'll get back to the story after that oblique remark. Bert Nichols had decided to get a job at bottle depot because of the homeless population that frequents it. Many of these homeless people used some sort of drug, but he realized they could not afford an expensive type so he would fill that need with one that was cheap and powerful.
Quickly he established himself a large clientele of addicts which by word of mouth got him more clients. The money was rolling in.
The drug was simple to use. He produced them to look exactly like marbles only much lighter. Then all you would have to do is heat them into a liquid form and let it cool. Once the drug cooled it did not solidify. It remained in a liquid form that you could absorb under your tongue or rub on your skin.
The most difficult part was making the drug. It was very dangerous and explosive. The materials became extremely hot and he burned himself many times by getting splashed. One thing he did not like was the fact that he could not wear gloves to protect himself because they would melt into him skin from the heat of making the drug, giving him horrible burns. He had experimented with the drug on himself and had become addicted to it. His body eventually became saturated with the drug and when he would urinate he tested the sample and his urine was 99% pure drug substance. He didn't know how he was still alive. When he sweat the drug came out of his pores. When he defecated he excreted a bubbling hissing yellow diarrhea. But as long as he was getting rich he didn't care.
Then one day he left one of the boilers on, there was a small explosion and a fire started. He became trapped inside and died. The firefighters were able to put out the fire, but they did not find the remains of his body. It had simply disappeared. Word had spread in the streets that he had died and several addicts wanted to search his apartment for any drugs, thinking he may have hidden some in the floorboards or the walls. The cops had an officer on duty in front of the apartment complex but not one in the actual apartment. One night three addicts entered through the back of the building crawling up a fire escape. The slowly moved through the hallways and then carefully entered his room which was taped off with police caution tape. They began to search inside.
They quietly tore apart the room. When they noticed a liquid on the floor.
The officer in front of the building saw a shadow in the apartment window so he got out of his car and made his way into the building and up the stairs. He pulled out his gun as he approached the door and then booted it down.
Inside there were the three addicts heating up the liquid on the floor- the liquid from the melted body of the chemist named Bert Nichols.