They call me a Blue Blood. For the obvious reason that my blood is a startling sapphire colour, and dries on my skin like ink. Blue Blood is not a sign or a prophecy, quite the opposite in fact. It is the symbol of creation, but not of the natural kind. I was created in a lab, and my Blue Blood is supposed to be the code. If the scientist who created me was ever in doubt of who was an experiment and who was not, all he had to do was to prick their finger with a needle and watch as the Blue (or sometimes red) blood flowed.

Blue Blood was actually invented when one overly-confident scientist decided to fuse the red blood cells with that of a compound made of platinum and a couple of other elements. The platinum mixture welded with the red blood cells, and thus Blue Blood came into excistence. Blue Blood meant that me, and all others like me, had extraordinary abilities, abilities we could never have known about or imagined in the dreams we had.

I wonder what my life would have been like, how much it would have changed, if not for the events of that fateful morning, when I discovered my true identity, as a Blue Blood.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!