Well, since Prototype looks like such an interesting game, I figured I'd try my hand at a story.
Since the game isn't out yet and no one really knows the story, this should be interesting. ;)
Reviews and critiques are appreciated, just don't flame it.
Anyway, enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Prototype or any of the characters.
Prototype
Chapter I
Outbreak
"Subject, male. Caucasian. Age twenty-nine."
The voice didn't sound familiar to my ears. It sounded almost distorted.
"Victim of a virus outbreak at Penn Station at twenty-two hundred hours, May twenty-seventh."
My eyes slowly opened to a white room. A bright light shone down on me. I could feel a cold surface beneath me. It felt like a metal slab.
"What's the victim's name?" asked another voice. Metal clanged lightly.
I raised my head to look around. On either side of me, two men stood in white suits that encompassed their whole bodies. The word 'HAZMAT' was emblazoned across their chests.
"Holy shit!" The man to my left jumped and tripped backwards over a metal tray. He fell to the floor with a crash and the metal instruments clanged all around him.
"Impossible…" breathed the man on my right. "The virus is lethal. No one should survive it."
"Where am I?" I asked groggily.
The other man had recovered and got back to his feet. "Harry, let's just finish what the virus started." He had a shiny scalpel in his hand.
The man on my right, apparently Harry, wrapped his arms around my shoulder, "End it quickly for him, will you?"
"What're you…" I started to ask, but their intent soon became clear. "No! Let go of me!" I struggled against Harry's grip.
The other man got closer. "Let GO!" I emphasized the last word by slamming my elbow into Harry's gut. He flew back and smashed into the tiled wall behind me. The tiles cracked and fell from the wall. Blood leaked from his lips as he slid to the ground.
"Harry!" The other man cried, "Why you little." He threw the scalpel at my chest.
I brought my arm up in defense and before my eyes it shifted in a sharp silver blade surrounded by red muscle. The scalpel bounced off harmlessly and slid across the floor.
The man stood, legs locked by fear, "What… are you?"
I threw off the sheet they had draped over the bottom of my body and hurled myself at the dark tinted window in front of me. The glass shattered but I felt no pain.
Below me were five stories of open air to the ground. I plummeted downward and smashed into the hard asphalt. Again I felt no pain, but a crater three feet deep surrounded me.
Dazed from the fall, I stood and ran. I didn't know where I was or where I was going; I just knew I had to run.
--
I found myself outside a clothing store. Looking down at my naked body, I decided I should probably get some cloths. Inside they had a fairly limited selection, not that I really cared much. I quickly found a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. Luckily, both fit me perfectly. It was cold outside so I grabbed a jacket vest to wear over the hoodie.
Looking around, I breathed a small sigh of relief. They had sneakers here too. Perfect. I quickly grabbed a pair and slipped them on. They felt tight at first, but then fit snuggly around my feet. I shrugged and walked back outside.
It was dark and the stars twinkled overhead. The street was almost completely barren, save for a few cars. I figured now was a good time to try to think. I sat down on the curb.
I stared at my hands, "Who am I…?"
I searched my mind for an answer. Nothing.
"Who am I?" I asked again, anger tingeing my tone.
Still no answer found its way into my mind.
"WHO AM I?!" I yelled, throwing a punch at the car next to me. It crumpled under the blow and slid back into the car behind it, setting off its alarm.
I looked from the impacted car to my hand and back again. Each of my hands twisted into a four fingered claw. My eyes widened, but then I had an idea.
Walking over to the building behind me, I punched a hand into the stone. My hand easily went through it. I did the same thing with my other hand. I pulled out my right hand and punched again, this time higher then my left. As my feet left the ground, I placed them on the building too. Three stabilizing claws shot out from my ankles and stuck themselves in the wall. I removed my hands and stood. I was now completely perpendicular to the ground about five feet below.
A smirk pulled at my lips and I ran up the building. As I ran, the claws coming out from my ankles attached and detached themselves from the stone, enabling me to scale the building with little effort.
I reached the roof and looked down at the path I had made up the building, Interesting.
--
Two weeks past and the city had changed drastically. The virus outbreak that had begun at Penn Station had spread throughout the entire city. People became infected, but they didn't have the control I did. They became mindless beasts roaming the streets, hunting those uninfected. The whole island had been quarantined and the military had instituted martial law. But I had changed too.
I gained control over the change that had been wrought over my body. I had the strength to hurl cars across football fields, I had the speed of a sports car, I had any number of weapons that my body could become.
The soldiers and tanks and helicopters swooped into the streets of New York. As bullets flew at me, as my body became stronger then steel, a realization dawned on me; I was their primary target. They aren't taking me in. I sliced through one soldier's waist, not even breaking stride.
I grabbed a car door off its hinges and hurled it behind me. I smiled at the explosion that was followed by a loud crash. One chopper down.
Leaping onto a building, I sprinted up the side until I crested the roof and landed. I laughed, "This is too easy. I'm not even breaking a sweat."
Another helicopter rose up to my level. A voice blared from its speakers, "Alex Mercer, you are under arrest. Come with us and no harm will come to you."
Alex Mercer. That must be my name. I raced toward the helicopter and leapt off the building, landing squarely in the open side.
The pilots gaped at me standing there. I looked next to his flight chair. Just as I hoped, there was a folder with 'Alex Mercer' typed on the top. I snatched the folder and shot my hand towards the flight console. It became claws and the console was engulfed in an explosion of sparks. I leapt back out of the helicopter and hit the side of the building. My hand dug in and my descent halted. I watched as the copter fell to the ground below.
I looked down at the folder in my hand. Maybe I'll find some answers in here. Smashing a window below me, I ducked inside and ran until I knew the choppers couldn't see me anymore. I sat down on a desk and opened the folder.
Inside, there was a picture of me. Next to the picture, there was a column of information:
Name: Alex Mercer
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 190 lbs
Age: 29
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Known Relatives: Dana Mercer
"The subject is known to be extremely violent. Capture dead or alive."
Well, at least I know my name is Alex. I looked again at the name next to 'Known Relatives'. Dana. I have a sister.
I flipped the page, and there was Dana, on a page very similar to mine. Under her picture, it read:
Name: Dana Mercer
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 102 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Known Relatives: Alex Mercer
"Dana is the only know relative to the subject. Apprehend her and attempt to use her to capture him."
My sister… I've got to find her. Luckily there was an address under the information. Perfect.
"Don't move, Alex."
I glanced over my shoulder. Three soldiers stood right next to each other, guns raised, facing me.
"Come quietly, Alex, and this will all be over."
I raised my hands over my head.
"I don't think so."
I kicked the desk behind me and it flew across the room smashing into the soldiers. They smashed through the window and plummeted to the ground, screaming all the way.
I strode over to the window and peered over the edge. The screams had stopped, "I've got to find my sister."