Prologue

1996

Doctor Timothy McNeil stared down in bewilderment at the new born in his arms. Although it wasn't really all that odd for a newborn not to cry during delivery, there was something odd about the child. Although the baby was average in every aspect, something about the infant unsettled him. He had a lot of hair, a deep black that had a blue tinge if you stared hard enough. Big dark brown eyes, although you'd probably take them for black unless, like his hair, you looked right at them. The doctor nearly dropped the baby in surprise, because for a split second it looked as if the child's eyes flashed crimson red.

Timothy realised that he'd been holding the child for far too long, and handed the infant to his mother. What sort of man will you grow up to be?

2000

Ken Peters sat on his desk reading the newspaper when one of the kindergarteners came up to his desk. "What are you reading?" the little boy asked. It was the first day so Ken hadn't memorised all the new students' names yet. "The newspaper" he answered simply. "I meant what the article your reading is about, you looked really interested in it", the young boy said as he started to doodle on a piece of paper with a dark brown crayon. Ken hesitated before replying, "It's about Y2K, and how a bunch of people though the world was going to end due to worldwide computer malfunctions." Ken said this expecting the child to reply by asking for a new crayon, but what came out was utterly different. "If you ask me, the whole incident was blown so out of proportions it's very much laughable. I understand the importance of such things to banks and companies, but then at most the worst thing that would have happened was a small rescission."

And with that the child got up and walked toward the swings. Ken looked down to see the boy had drawn a an apocalyptic scene of the school, the yard strewn with dead bodies all drawn with a single crayon with far more detail and artistry then he ever could. He then smiled to himself as he spotted the small dinosaur that occupied the whole bottom left quarter. Weird kid.

2003

The zoo curator sprinted past the monkey house, cursing furiously under her breath. A plump woman, she wasn't really used to anything more than a brisk walk, and even that was pushing it. But this was an emergency. A very big emergency. A new employee had been feeding some of the animals, but the idiot had forgotten to lock the dam cage! What kind of idiot does that? Last time I hire a teenager, they're all just a bunch of idiots!

The curator heard screams coming from the food pavilion, so it was pretty obvious were the escaped animals were. When the idiot had told her what had happened in her office she'd grabbed the dart gun before he could even tell her what animal had gotten loose. Now she raised it and dropped it immediately when she saw what was causing the commotion.

Right outside the door was a pack of wolves, lounging in the shade. In the middle of the pack was the alpha male, obvious due to his size, lying on his side, but leaning on him was a seven year-old boy, munching on one of the chocolate chip cookies in the shape of a paw print they sold at the zoo's gift shop. A couple of cubs were resting their heads on the boys lap.

A toddler, oblivious to the danger the predators posed, tugged away from his mothers grasp, ambled up to one of the animals and offered it some chocolate. When the boy saw this he got up and snatched the chocolate away from the toddler. "Don't you know chocolate is bad for dogs?"

2011

Mrs. Peterson and a group of other teachers rushed down the hall to the nearest bathroom. How could this happen? She thought furiously to herself. The entire school had gone into lockdown only five minutes ago, seconds after a student asked to go to the washroom. The stranger disappeared into the boy's washroom, the same one the student probably would have used.

Without a single ounce of hesitation, Mrs. Peterson stepped into the washroom and screamed. On the floor, lying in a pool of blood was the intruder, utterly motionless with a look of terror on his face and a ball point pen sticking out of his right eye. Standing by the sink washing his hands of blood was the student, whistling.

The next day

I looked up at the man sitting in front of me, and I wondered what kind of rock he climbed out from. His hair looked like it had been greased over with an entire bottle of olive oil, and eyes that said if he didn't get what he wanted, he'd exploit, cheat, and blackmail anyone he has to in order to get it. And worst of all he had an air to him that made it seem like he thought everything on earth was his plaything.

"You don't really have a choice; your parents have already signed over all legal rights to us." The so called "scientist" smirked. Well this sucks. I knew my parents hated me, but I never thought they'd... scratch that, disowning me sounds like something that bastard of a Father of mine would do.

"Besides, it's not like it will be all that bad at the institute, I mean there will be other kids your age, and most of the treatments won't hurt...much." They were sitting in the school councillor's office. The man had introduced himself as Harriet Dickens, and it took an insane amount of will power on my part not to burst out laughing. As soon as he walked in the door the guy started to literally preach to me about an institute for the gifted, a safe place where people that were different were taken to and could be properly educated to benefit mankind. Unfortunately when I showed no interest, his preacher like attitude was replaced with the one he was showing me now.

He started to talk about what kind of future I'd have if I stayed in a normal school, but I'd had enough of this. I had been eyeing a plate of cookies in front of me for a while and took one as I stood up. "For the last time, no. I'd rather not be prodded and tested like a dam animal." And with that I walked out the door. I was expecting Harriet to try and stop me, but instead he just sat there. After an hour of trying to convince me to go with you, you just let me walk out the door?

It seemed too good to be true, but right now I need to figure out where I'm going to stay. I took a bite out of the cookie and regretted it as soon as I swallowed.

I fell to my knees, clawing at my throat. At first it felt like it was on fire, like when you swallow something really spicy, but then it started to feel like I swallowed a handful of needles, and the feeling got stronger and stronger in a matter of seconds until it felt like something was stabbing my throat from the inside. After a minute the pain was so bad I felt myself start to black out. Before I was totally unconscious, I heard someone walk up to me. I was on all fours, sinking lower and lower, but the person kicked me in the ribs and I rolled over on my back. I looked up and saw the person had an annoyingly cocky smirk on my face. It took me a while to realise it was Harry Dick.