Cutting the Strings

Prologue I


Marie Louise Aldrich had the world at her fingertips.

She had been born into money, and from a very young age could have anything she ever wanted. But she was raised not to ask for it, and so she didn't. When Marie needed something she would politely request the family's staff to purchase it the next time they were out, and would contribute her own earned money for whatever she desired.

Marie lived on an estate in the palisades, one that had been in the family for five generations. The staff had remained loyal, and each son had married rich and remained there to carry on the lineage. It was typical behavior of the upper class of Gotham, and completely expected of each Aldrich son.

Her father, Royce Aldrich, had been raised on the estate. His family's wealth had allowed him to go to Ivy League schools, and he was a brilliant doctor. Marie's mother Emily had worked at a coffee shop Royce had gone to while in medical school. They had fallen in love almost immediately, and Emily had adjusted to the upper class well. She had always charmed people and her motherly personality had never faded.

When Royce's parents retired to an island in the Bahamas, Emily and Royce had moved in to the Aldrich Estate together. Their first son was a boy, Damian Heath Aldrich. Four years later they gave birth to Marie Louise.

Along with her lucky parentage, she had genes that would make several people shiver in envy. Long blonde hair framed a delicate face, so breakable you would be afraid to touch it. Rosy lips and soft grey eyes made it easy to be jealous of or desire, even from a young age. Marie had also inherited her mother's musical talent, and was able to afford only the best piano teachers in all of Gotham City. As a result she quickly grew into a talented piano player and often performed at elaborate dinners for Gotham's upper class.

All this was happening when she was thirteen years old. By the time she was fifteen, there wasn't a doubt in anyones mind she would grow up to achieve great things. She might have become a doctor like her father She might have married rich like her mother. She might have become a world famous piano player and earned thousands playing a night.

She might have had a perfect life...

...had it not been for the surgery.


Prologue II

"Doctor?" a small timid voice broke the silence of the room. Bright fluorescent lights glowed above nine people, each sitting at a comfortable chair around a circular table. Papers littered every available surface, along with experimental wires and charts of the human body.

The other eight turned to face him. He was a small man with a soft voice, and he used it to his advantage when he wanted to get anyones attention.

"Yes, William?" an older man asked. The older man had silvery blonde hair, with light grey eyes and a stern look on his face. He looked down at the smaller doctor, who squeaked out,

"I...don't see...how this...helps anything."

"What?"

The younger man, knowing he angered him, defended himself quickly.

"It's just-doing this to someone really changes them. People will change. Humanity will change. She'll be half robot. She'll be-"

"A living marionette." the older man finished.

"Dr. Aldrich." a women spoke up, strong and unaltered. "This experiment could go wrong. There are just too many risks, and the cost of this is...it's just not worth it."

Dr. Aldrich turned to her, a livid look on his handsome face. He slammed his fist on the table.

"You think I care about money? You think that's an honest issue?" he roared. As he leered his face closer to her, the woman flinched away, blinking back tears. His voice was on the edge of hysterics.

"No, Doct-"

"MY DAUGHTER IS DYING!" he screamed. "AND YOU THINK I CARE ABOUT MONEY?"

"Dr. Aldrich, no-"

"SHE HAS WEEKS LEFT! WEEKS!"

"DOCTOR!" the women finally screamed back. "WE ARE NOT YOUR ENEMY!"

He breathed heavily for a moment, and he put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples furiously. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, but finally the silence was broken.

"Tell us what you need, Royce. We'll do it for you."

The voice came from James Morrison, one of his oldest friends. Royce looked up at him, his face so pale it matched his white lab coat.

"She has a disease in her chest." he said simply. "I don't know what it is. I've had doctors flown in from all over the world, even I've looked at it, but I can't identify it with anything." he grabbed a chart from the table. "As you can see, her weight is decreasing, and she's given up piano. She won't touch it." his voice broke, and a women sitting beside him grabbed his hand.

Royce breathed out a shaky breath before starting again.

"Her mother doesn't know. And neither does her brother. But...she has an idea. I couldn't tell her she was dying." his voice was barely above a whisper, but it was steady.

"I need you to save her." he finished simply. The others didn't move for a moment, until finally one grabbed a chart and began looking over it, pen at the ready. For several hours, nothing filled the air except the sounds of shuffling papers and the occasional dispute or discussion between the nine.


Prologue III

"Look Dad!"

A shout caused a man with a beer gut to groan angrily, but he didn't move from his spot at the TV. He watched half-interestedly as a news reporter went on about two billionaires being shot in an alley.

"DAD!" the voice was louder now, and he turned to face his son.

The two looked nothing like each other. The older man was balding, covered in grease, and too big for his armchair. His offspring was thin and tall for his age with hair the color of a fox's fur. His bright blue eyes were covered with glasses that were too large for his face.

"A's." he said happily, laying the paper down on his lap. His father looked at the paper and grunted, neither approval or disgust. The younger man took it as a compliment, which caused him to lay another object on his lap.

A Rubix Cube. Solved, and beside it twenty dollars.

"I won." he said gleefully. His excitement could not be contained, so he bounced up and down as he waited for a sign of pride. He waited for what felt like hours, until he felt a drop in his stomach. His father wasn't proud.

"You cheated." he slurred out, the can of bear in his hand going to the table beside him.

"What-no-"

"Of course you did, Ed. You're a moron." he said it simply, as if it were obvious and 'Ed' was too stupid to figure it out. His son tried to scurry away, but his fathers hand caught the back of his flannel shirt.

The boy heard the sound of his cube hitting the floor, and the flutter of the paper. It was suddenly too silent, all except for the sound of a pizza commercial.

"Now, for just 4.99, an entire cheese pizza with four drinks!"

Edward shook, and his father rose from his chair. His heart stopped and dropped to his stomach. He silently offered a prayer to the god his mother had talked about at night, one that she said would protect him.

"I'm not a moron, Daddy." he almost sobbed. "I'm not."

"What?" he snapped.

"I'm not a moron." he said, stronger this time.

His father shook with rage, and Edward anticipated the pain to come. It always came soon after he disagreed with him.

A fist landed in his stomach, and he doubled over, sobbing on the floor.

"ADMIT IT YOU MORON!" he shouted at him.

"I...am...not. A. Moron." Edward choked out, clutching at his abdomen.

"PROVE YOUR POINT!" his father screamed. "YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING IN YOUR LIFETIME!"

He took his words to heart. The second he went back to watching his show, and Edward had crawled away, he went to his room and began to think. His father's words echoed in his head, which caused him to shake in terror.

Moron.

He wasn't a moron. He was smarter than most of the kids in his class. Choking back a sob, he turned to burrow into the covers. They were already encrusted with his tears from too many nights of crying.

Edward sat up suddenly and ran to his bookshelf. He pulled out one of his detective books and began to read, focusing on the words harder than ever before.

He would show him.

Edward would show the whole damn world.