foolish scientists, thinking they could play God, took their esearch one step too far... and payed dearly for it
The room I am in is dark, with the scent of fear strong in my nostrils. I realize that it is mine. I am strapped to a bed, naked, every bone in my body traced out as if I am some sort of living skeleton. I am cold.
The masked face with the uncaring blue eyes looms over me. At one time, these eyes had belonged to someone I had trusted with everything. But that was no more.
Other faces appear, masked, and fingers wearing gloves flit above my head, over my arms and legs and ribs, slicing and cutting with thin blades. Though I feel nothing, I struggle, like I always do, feebly trying to fight them off, to save myself. Each time I fail.
The bed I am on is lowered into a vat of grey liquid, and everything goes dark, yet I know I am still conscious- I can feel it creeping into me, settling inside me, like a parasite settling down in its new home. My skin swells, and bubbles rise to the surface of the liquid. Strangely, I can breathe.
There, in the boiling vat of fluid, I change, becoming something inhuman, something animal-like- something hungry. Suddenly I have huge stores of strength, of power, that my attempts to escape before pale in comparison to the intensity of this new sensation. With incredible strength, I snap the restraints and pull myself from the vat, dragging my body over the side and collapse to the floor.
The scientists and doctors, so cold and distant before- I can see the fear in their eyes as they slowly back away. A smile plays on my lips, a cruel smile, not like the smiles I used to have before Blue-eyes brought me here. At the thought of him, my eyes fall upon the figure closest to the door, his hand reaching blindly for the access panel as his blue eyes are frozen on me, fearful as everyone else. I can smell the fear- inhale it as I pull myself from the floor, dripping with the grey chemical mixture.
Just as Blue-eyes’ card finds the slot, I raise my hand. Focusing all of my anger, all of the torture I have suffered and have lost feeling because, into my left hand, I stare at Blue-eyes. Our gazes meet for a brief instant before he falls over, dead. The cackling blue energy dancing around my fingertips finds other targets.
The doctors and scientists, so cold and distant before, scream in panic and animal fear as they try to evade the power, the fury, of revenge. Their fear scent is strong, intoxicating to my deprived senses. None escape.
Calmly, I walk on the bodies, taking care to step on each one’s head to show who had truly won. I reach the door, and look at Blue-eyes. His eyes are wide open, from shock or fear my mind doesn’t care. He is dead, the room is dead, and the world is dead. I open the unlocked door. I take one step out into the hallway and stop. I turn back. I don’t like it when people stare at me, like I am some lab animal that they can test, and hurt, and maim, and torture, and kill over and over again. I raise my cackling blue hand and point at him. The energy shoots out and electrocutes his corpse beyond recognition. Let’s see him try to study me now.
I turn around and walk away from the carnage. Anyone who crosses my path meets the same fate as the doctors. This place is heartless. It does not care for the next generation; it cares about the past and present, but not the future.
Many people die that night. The janitor, the nurses, the technician replacing a light bulb in an abandoned corridor, other doctors, and the security guards at the front entrance. I walk down the gravel pat, barefoot, shooting trees at random.
That was the last night of my imprisonment. And the beginning of the World’s end.