The Diaries of Something Inhuman

Its easy enough to lose your identity in a city as large as New York.... it makes it easier if you've never had an identity... and even easier if you aren't even a human being...

  The rain in New York might have hit others on this  cold, miserable, morning.  It might have, if you had  forgotten your umbrella or coat, or perhaps you didn't  have a car to get around in  It might have hit me, but it  doesn't.  It never has.  It certainly hit everything  else. Buildings, warm sidewalks, taxis, and streets were  covered by water that fell upon it from the heavens. I could  have been standing outside, with no protection, for hours.  The rain can't touch me. It wont.


 Let me guess, you are  already confused? Well my friends, so am I.      


Allow me to explain....  Explain? How funny.  How much more  explaining can I do? While there are things about myself  that I shouldn't explain, there are very few things about  my very existence I can explain so I'll try and keep this  brief...

What I can tell you is that I, Eden Alexander, am not  of the human race though I may look just like them. I am more powerful than any human who has  ever existed. My kind is stronger, faster, and more  intellectually able.  We are, what I believe to be, the dominant species of the  earth. My "kind" however has no history, no family, and  to the world, we do not exist. I believe that my brother and  I may be the first.         

 My brother, Gabriel, was born to a human mother in New  England about 22 years ago. The woman died during child  birth. The sheer act of giving birth to a creature so  powerful would probably kill anyone. Which is what I imagine happened to my own mother. The father never made  himself known. Gabriel went to live with the sister of the  woman who bore him. She was obviously an unsuitable mother,  seeing as she was found dead nearly two months later. She  died of a brutal attack only inflicted by "something  inhuman" as the doctors and surgeons had said as they  tried to identify her body, mangled past any recognition.

In  my opinion, if a woman can't take a rough housing child  then she is no mother.  The murder remains a cold  case.        

 Gabriel spent most of his child hood going from foster  home to foster home, only to meet people who sent him back  immediately. Every family had a seemingly delusional story  of the child throwing violent tantrums and nearly destroying  their homes. They had tried everything, medications,  therapy, and of course countless exorcisms. Gabriel at only  five years old was every living things worst nightmare. They  had no choice but to send him to a permanent orphanage.  A  miserable, and miss understood life he led...      

  That is until he was about 16.

He was  somewhere in the Boston, having run away from his foster  home for the last time, and he came upon a newsstand. The  Headlines drew him closer.

 Black and bold face, the lead  story caught his attention.  An 11 year old  girl  was being charged with the murder of her foster parents.  She would be tried in New York City's Justice  Center.        

 "What?" he whispered to  himself. "That can't be a legitimate  story" he spoke in disgust. He took a paper  without paying and read to himself.  

The paper  read:

"11 year old Eden Laurent is charged with 2 counts  of 1st degree murder. Her Guardians, Mark and Trisha  Laurent, were found dead last Wednesday outside there  downtown Manhattan apartment. The Laurents had been brutalized,  stabbed several times, and then pushed from their 9th story  balcony. They were discovered disturbingly when their bodies fell onto a moving taxi."       

 He couldn't help but to laugh to  himself.

"When forensic investigators, Judith  Dellibo and Anthony Karr, discovered Eden in the apartment,  she was found alone. When questioned about what she knew about her  parent's death, she didn't answer. Shockingly, when later  asked during questioning "Do you know why your parents fell off the  balcony?" she corrected them. "They aren't my  parents" and "they didn't fall, I threw them."   Investigators didn't believe the young girl until they  composed a probable scenario.

‘We believe the couple was  sleeping when Eden attacked them. She stabbed them with something fairly  large, the punctures through the body were made by something  thick... We're not sure if  she had help'"      

  "Sick..." Gabriel muttered to  himself. But he read on...

"Eden was  taken to a hospital and fully examined for clues or evidence  that confirmed her confession of killing her parents. While  she was indeed covered in her parent's blood, there were  signs of something equally disturbing. Eden was a victim of  sexual abuse inflicted by he foster father, Mark Laurent. Eden told stories of  other violent abuse but there was no physical evidence found to  prove such claims."  

  Gabriel's stomach turned. "Oh I can't read this  anymore." He tossed the paper to the side and walked away.   However, just moments later he went back to pick it back up and  read on. Senseless human violence always intrigued  him.  

He skimmed the rest of the article until he caught a paragraph that intrigued him, which read...    

 "Possibly the strangest find on the young girl is  that she is physically mutated beyond any medical explanation . She has two, long, strong,  and sharp bone like structures that protrude from the upper center  of her back and extend outward about 5 feet. They were  collapsed and hidden behind the shoulder blades. The skin stretches over the bended structures. When fully folded out,  the closely resemble bat wings. Scientists and medical experts are baffled at how the young girl could be so  severely disfigured but they are considering surgery after  her trial to remove the excess bone and tissue."      

   Gabriel dropped the paper. The whole city  of Boston grew quiet around him.  "Physically mutated"  rang inside of his head so loud he couldn't think.   Physically mutated.  She physically mutated.  Bat wings? Is that what those idiot quacks think they are? 

Gabriel's rage filled him. he stared down at the paper. down at the face of Eden Laurent. He felt so angry, for her. 

'They're going to put her in jail for giving those hideous people what they deserve." 

But there was something else gabriel just began to put together.

Wait a second.  he ran after the paper that had begun to blow down the street. he picked it up and closely scanned the article once again.

"wings..." he wispered to himself.

'Wings....' He thought. Just like his? No. This couldn't be  possible.  He tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. But it wasn't just a coincidence.  No, the wings  ...the murder was just too  familiar. Too similar. Too similar to him.  Was it possible that he was  not alone? No, it must be something different.  He was the  only one. Wasn't he?  He was the only one of his  kind.        

he for the last time put the paper down. He couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering. there was someone out there, who may, or may  not be ..., in some way connected to him. He sure as hell  wasn't about to let his new, and only connection to this world get  taken away. His father may have gotten away, but he  wouldn't let her. He had to get to her ...and fast.   Before the trial, the sentence ....and the surgery.  



     I distinctly remember being placed alone in a  confinement cell. It was too cold. I was hungry, scared for  my life, and everyone that looked at me looked as if they  wanted to spit in my face. No one would talk to me. I  certainly didn't want Mark or Trisha, but I wanted  someone.

I knew what would become of me. I had been alone my entire young life and now I  would be alone for the rest of my life which, at that point,  I didn't know how much longer I even had. I didn't cry,  though I felt it would be an appropriate time as any. I was  aware and carefully focused and not at all hysterical. There was a  part of me that was even at peace. The part of me that said  I would never have to look at the evil faces of those people  again. Maybe I was a monster. As much as I hated being  described as that, it might as well have been true. I felt  absolutely no remorse for massacring those people. In fact,  the sheer thought of it made me laugh a bit. It was a  satisfactory feeling. It was even a reassuring feeling. I  liked it. However, because of my intense and possibly  irrational actions, I was never going to be free. I was  trapped in that home and I would be trapped in a jail cell  for the rest of my life.  That was what scared me, the fact  that I would never be able to control my own life. There was  no escape, no hope, no light in this darkness, and no way  out. I put my head down and let that thought sink  in.     

    I would forever remain alone.  There would be no fair  trial; they would lock me away forever. They would cut off  the very weapon I used to kill. Yes, my "extra bone and  tissue" or "my wings" was the murder weapon I chose.  They were sharp and strong and a part of me. I wanted them.  But not even my body was free. They kept the wings tied in  two separate bundles to "prevent them from hurting me."  They saved me, but soon enough they would be gone too. I  would soon have nothing. It was if a heavy pressure was  pressed upon my heart. I felt claustrophobic, i panicked. I  didn't want to be alone. Fear pushed against my heart and  my senses. Hopelessness filled the air. My spirit  crashed.       

 I did the only thing I could do. I screamed the  highest pitched, ear splitting, scream I could force out of  my lungs to relieve the pressure. When I stopped I was only  met by silence. For hours it seemed.        

 ....until I heard it.

 A strange phenomenon. It was like I  could hear the emotion of fear. A fierce energy ran up and  down my spine.  I could hear anxiety; I could hear bodies  tensing in defense. It rang loudly in my ears until I was  met with the screams, the rumbling, the banging, and the  smashing commotion I heard outside. The yelling, the  shooting, the running, and the sheer chaos forced me to get  up and figure out what was happening and what I should do.  It sounded like the end of the world, everyone was in a  panic. I yelled outside to try and get someone to let me  out. I pounded the door and ran myself into it to try and  force it open. I was too small and weak. I continued to slam  my body into the door with fruitless effort. Nothing worked.  Yet again I was trapped. No one cared enough to help me. I  was alone.  No escape. I fell to the ground and once again  screamed in agony for someone, something.       

  As if I was being answered, the screaming stopped.   It seemed as if for a moment the whole world was dead   silent. It was eerie. I listened hard for any sound what so  ever. There was absolutely nothing.  I, for the first time,  had the sensation of my hair standing on end in anticipation  for what happened next. I was afraid to even move. I looked  at the door for any sign of someone. Then, only a second  later did something come smashing through the ceiling and  onto the floor behind me. I hit the floor in reflex.  I  waited for the dust to clear to look.         

More silence, then..."So this is where  the screams came from" I heard something  mutter. 

 I was heard. 

 I glimpsed upwards.  The creature stood upright, tall, strong, and  defensive. I should have been scared but I couldn't be. I  should have run, but how could I. I didn't fear it, I  didn't fear him. I was not afraid of this creature with  huge wings that looked at me as if he had found gold. He  looked directly in my eyes. He and I were similar. I knew.  He knew.        

 Dust from the ceiling still fell around him as he  approached me very slowly. His wings came together and  folded back under his shoulder blades just as mine might  have if they were free.  Our eyes met ...

 "Eden?" asked the  figure.       

 In response I nodded, unable to speak from the array  of emotion I was feeling. "I think..." he  started "I think it would be a good idea if you came with  me and we got out of here as fast as possible. For your  sake...and mine"         

"Hold on, just wait why-..."I had only  then noticed the red shinny droplets that hung from the hole  in the ceiling. They fell one by one. Then they came in  abundance, until a tiny little stream was falling from the  opening.  Soon it poured in without stopping. My stomach  turned over in nausea of what I knew the red to be.        

 "Oh" I understood that in order to break  into a high security holding facility you would have to do  quite a bit of damage. No one was going to let him in  without a fight. The horrid noises I heard outside must have  been him forcing his way in.        

 "How many people are....?" I began to question.  Then I heard police cars coming at a  distance. In response his wings faired out again  and he began to hover. I had never been able to  fly with my wings. This act amazed me.        

 "Eden  know this is all a bit strange  but..."

I stared him straight in the eye. He  returned the action."If I go with  won't hurt me and ....and I want to be free" I  said in the lowest voice I could manage.        

He laughed in response and said "That is an absolute  promise."

"Wait!" I demanded. He turned  around and looked down at me"....who are  you?" I asked timidly.

"I believe ...that I am your  brother, Gabriel."     

   Before I could even blink He took me up in his arm and  flew straight up in the dark summer sky. I, for the first  time in my life, I felt free. Confused, and still a bit  scared, but finally         

  That is how my brother and I came to meet. We soon  realized we were, indeed,  not alone and Gabriel had saved  my life ....well mentally at least.  After fleeing the  containment center with an estimated 100 people dead and  another 200 in critical condition, we went on a serious  hiatus for the next two years until Gabe was 18. During that  time we bounced around a lot from city to city, collecting  as much money as we could. And by collect, I mean rob and  steal.  Most people would look down on that kind of  behavior, but Gabriel, no matter how many times he will deny  it, was scared and running. He needed to support himself and  a sister that he didn't ask for but wouldn't give up. He  worked so hard. He never once let me believe that we were in  danger or that what we were doing was wrong and that if we  were caught it would either mean killing more humans or  being locked up again. During that time we got in our share  of disagreements, fights, and the occasional threats.  However, no matter how much we fought we couldn't help but  be each other's most trust worthy friend. The only thing  we had was each other and living dangerously for two full  years gave us two things. We received the knowledge, from  the night that Gabe rescued me, that we are immortal. We  cannot die. This meant we would be around for a very, very  long time. The other was the realization that we would be  Eden Laurent and Gabriel Nollis, the murderers, for the rest  of our lives weather we liked it or not. If we  ever wanted to figure out what we were, and why our past was  what it was, we had to live and work together.         Once we had collected more than enough to live  comfortably, we decided to make a permanent residence in New  York City. It was a city of high crime rate and we didn't think  we would raise too much suspicion if we had to kill for  money.  People in New York died all the time after  all.       

  Our appearance had changed drastically since the night  I was broken out of the holding cell. Gabe was taller and  thinner but still strong as ever. Instead of having the dark  brown hair he used to have it was a light, angelic shade of  blonde. I was 13 but I looked as if I was in high school. I  was tall, thin, and I bore a striking resemblance to Gabe. I  also had light hair. We weren't actually sure if we really  were related, but we sure looked related, which helped when  people asked where my parents where, I would say I was with  my brother.  We decided our alias would be Gabriel and Eden  Alexander, Children of a deceased father who made millions  in the stock market.  Simple and believable. 

  For the next four years we lived quietly in New York  without any one's questions. Gabe and I spent most of our  time throwing ourselves into research. Either comparing each  other's past stories or constantly buying books we thought  would be useful to find out who we really were. Books only  helped us with the historical aspect; we found most  everything out by personal experience. For example, as I  have stated before, rain does not fall on us. It just avoids  our body and about a 2 inch space around us. Other strange  phenomena in addition to immortality, super strength, and  the ability to fly include immunity to human disease, a  colder body temperature of 92 degrees, and the most peculiar  is the inability to feel remorse for the killing we have  done.  Gabriel always had a theory on that one.  We are to  humans as humans are to animals. We kill humans to get what  we need to survive like money. People kill cattle to get  what they need to survive like there meat for food and skin  for clothing. We just happened to be the evolved form of  humans. It wasn't our fault we killed it was just our  instinct and it was what we had to do to keep out of jail.  Ironic isn't it? That hardly matter now anyway. We stopped  killing years ago. We have no more need to.         

We also had a lot of free time on our hands.  During  which we needed something to occupy ourselves with. I  finally realized that Gabe bought the huge apartment that he  did so that we could easily fly around in it. I learned to  fly and my brother and I usually made a game of it. Whoever  could fly to the top of the rafters and land successfully  would win. It kept us occupied and in shape. Obviously Gabe  had me beat for some time, but when we were outside flying  distance I was quite a bit faster.        

 I think our favorite activity was involving  ourselves with human culture. We loved the arts and we  filled our apartment with paintings, sculptures, books,  pottery, and anything someone had created. It fascinated us.  Gabe was so far involved and knowledgeable with the arts  people started recognizing him at galleries that he often  visited. While my brother and I usually kept as far away from  human interaction, we didn't see the harm in making a few  friends. They were after all our only company other than  each other and we hadn't made much friendly human contact  in years.        

 Now as I turn 17 and my brother in his early twenties,  we have come to realize that we may never know who or what  we really are, so we might as well try to blend in. My  brother and I both finished school and after educating  ourselves as much as we possibly could, we took a long  deserved break. We strayed away from our studies and became  more sociable. We both made mutual friends who we liked to  have over often. Many of them art lovers like ourselves. We  never made friends with "normal people" as they often pointed out. The friends we did make never could get over the fact  that Gabe and I got along so well. It was as if we were best  friends.  We just lied that the death of our father brought  us together. We never told our friends the truth. This was  also rather ironic.      

  I tried to see what dating was like. It was terrible.  I only had one human I was fond of. Needless to say I will  now hate the species of male humans forever. Gabe even had  human girl friends that never lasted long. Not that he  cared much. He used them primarily for physical pleasure and  treated them as if they were disposable. We also found it  amusing to watch the irrational cycle that is human  attachment to other beings. I believe they call it  "love".          

We never felt that sort of love.  We never felt  aggressively angry. We never felt fear. What was there to  fear if you're immortal? We never felt anything but  protective of one another.  Don't get me wrong, Gabe and  I weren't completely free of emotion. We may not be human  but we weren't robots. We were as close to human as you  could get personality wise. However we never expressed  intense or irrational emotion like they did.         

  As much as I appear to be too calloused to care, one day I truly  hope that my brother and I could find others like us. He  always told me it was impossible or at least improbable that  such people would be found. But I kept hope. Hope was always  my favorite emotion. It was sometimes senseless, But it  brought Gabe and I together through the misery of our past.  The hope that he would no longer be alone.  It kept us  together through the hard years of struggling and scrapping  for money for hope of a better and comfortable life.  It  will keep us together for the rest of how long the world  keeps us for the hope that we will rescue someone else from  being alone.  Perhaps it is the hope of all the creatures  that are like us, which keeps us immortal, so that we can  help all of them know hope.  

The End

0 comments about this story Feed