Division Zero Bleach Novels & Stories

"It's bad. I think maybe if I open the windows and air it out, it might help some, but there's no question that it's going to take some bleach, too. Lots of bleach." Jenny nodded slowly. "Okay. So . . . we need bleach. And vinegar and baking soda." At my questioning glance, she explained, "It's good for cleaning sinks and showers and toilets. Great for deodorizing, too." She looked back at my car. "It's not furnished, is it?"

he yelled. "Anything else? Shit? Jerk?" Lynn continued laughing. "You can't even cuss, Mahone. How are you going to make an infinite mirror, huh? Listen, you better get out from this damn room, or I am going to call Father. He's in his study room." Mahone put down his safety glasses and stood up, shooting a passionate glance at his project, "Tu es horrible frère!" Lynn heard that and laughed in mind. "Use at least seventy percent alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, bleach, isopropyl alcohol and wipe the sheets with a microfiber cloth. I hope you find the chemicals in your school lab," he moved away from the door.

My brows furrowed as I stepped closer, the metallic scent hitting me before I touched it. It wasn't water. The surface of the desk was smeared with a thin, odd liquid, colorless yet viscous, and unnatural. My stomach twisted as a pulse of unease shot through me. What was that and how did it get on my desk? I reached for the chain, hesitating when my fingers hovered over it. Something about it felt... alive. And as my fingertips brushed the cold metal, a shiver ran through me, sharp and sudden, like the necklace itself was warning me. The liquid was slippery. It felt wrong, almost like it burned my skin. I shook it off and clutched the necklace tightly, turning to leave.

"This is a poison. If anyone keeps drinking this for, let's say… eight months to one and a half years, depending on when they started, and depending on the dose given—and the person's immune system—if luck isn't on their side, they won't even remember how to breathe. The person's heart will just... stop. And it will look like a natural brain failure." I gripped the paper. I looked at the list of chemicals. The names were long and complex, but the result was simple. "Wolf’s Bane extract—does it bleach?" I asked. "Nope. It doesn't. Not alone. "But with this…" she pointed at a text on the paper, "…and this mixed together, it bleaches. Or gives the bleach effect. Why do you ask?" "Nothing," I sa

he screamed, stepping back. I grabbed the bleach bottle and hit him on the side his head as hard as I could, causing him to step backward. I took advantage of his momentary unbalance as he rubbed his eyes, knowing that I only had a second. I unscrewed the cap from the bleach bottle and threw the contents at him, causing him to scream out in pain as bleach covered his face and hair. I grabbed the broom and, finding sudden strength, rammed my foot into the wooden handle, breaking it in half.

he screamed, stepping back. I grabbed the bleach bottle and hit him on the side his head as hard as I could, causing him to step backward. I took advantage of his momentary unbalance as he rubbed his eyes, knowing that I only had a second. I unscrewed the cap from the bleach bottle and threw the contents at him, causing him to scream out in pain as bleach covered his face and hair. I grabbed the broom and, finding sudden strength, rammed my foot into the wooden handle, breaking it in half.

he yelled. "Anything else? Shit? Jerk?" Lynn continued laughing. "You can't even cuss, Mahone. How are you going to make an infinite mirror, huh? Listen, you better get out from this damn room, or I am going to call Father. He's in his study room." Mahone put down his safety glasses and stood up, shooting a passionate glance at his project, "Tu es horrible frère!" Lynn heard that and laughed in mind. "Use at least seventy percent alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, bleach, isopropyl alcohol and wipe the sheets with a microfiber cloth. I hope you find the chemicals in your school lab," he moved away from the door.

"Uh... bubblegum, a disassembled drone motor, a half-eaten sandwich, and... oh! The torpedo fuel!" She pulled out a canister she’d siphoned from the torpedo room earlier (because Hailey never walked past anything flammable without taking a sample). "It's Decalin," Hailey grinned. "Nasty stuff. Ignites on contact with strong oxidizers." "And cleaning supplies?" Jack asked. "Under the sink!" Olivia kicked open the cabinet under the galley sink. There were old glass bottles of industrial bleach and ammonia. "Don't mix those unless you want chlorine gas!" Ben warned. "We'll die too!"

"It's a probability. I am also aware of the likelihood that the prosecution may have made wildly exaggerated claims. It's clear that no bombing attack was imminent." "Are you thinking of anything else?" "Above all. I am sceptical that the conspirators simmered down a bleaching agent to an attentiveness of eighty percent. Such a technique would be extremely dangerous, and the subsequent fluid would be almost not viable to stockpile. Peroxide is used in some manufacturing procedures, chiefly as a blanching instrument. If you or I, or the radicals, had the proper qualifications, we could buy it at manufacturing potency, which is generally fifty percent. And if we did, we would find that it arri