Thalamus6
By AlbinoPheonix and AlicexRxH – We're back!
This is a work of fiction we make no profit from. All characters, products and storylines are the properties of their respective owners and are taken for creative, non-profit purposes only. This is a sequel to Cortex 5 that will make NO SENSE if you don't read that first. Please don't sue I have a distinct lack of spare monies. Please credit me, AlbinoPheonix and AlicexRxH if you use any ideas of ours in your own works. Also, please review because AlicexRxH gets cranky and hurts innocent children if you don't which means it would be – ALL YOUR FAULT! – enjoy the story! J
March 25th 1960 – exactly 15 years before Rosa's death
The high pitched, unique sound of a newly born child's scream cut through the air of the hospital room. The air filled with the pain filled pants of the dishevelled mother's harsh breathing and the quiet hustle and bustle of the doctors and nurses organised chaos that is childbirth. And then, it began anew. The sobs rose in pitch, gaining volume, the quiet murmurs of encouragement turning into semi-hysterical chants as all in the room encouraged the mother to bring her second child, her second son into the world. And then it was over and the women were cooing and laughing with the exhausted mother while the male nurse and one of the two doctors stood back smiling indulgently at the mother took both of her small, red faced children in her arms.
Every parent has hopes and dreams for their children. Some parents wish for their children's happiness. Others wish for their children to follow their dreams. Some wish for success. No one in that room had any way of knowing but one day these two weak, helpless little children would be the start of events that could end the world and tear down all the bridges of society. These two little boys, less than an hour old, would have the potential to kill every human being on earth and usher in a new age; The age of the mutants.
December 25th 1960 – Christmas Day
Nine month old twins Michael and Toby gurgled happily to each other from where they had both been propped on cushions in their family living room. A radio sprouted the normal drivel classified as world news but kept the two occupied while their mother was visible through the electric yellow light as she bustled around the small, cheap kitchen. She was a tall woman with looks that had lost their early beauty too soon with the stress of being a single mother to two young children in a cheap flat block only a step up from the local trailer park.
She walked in holding two bottles, passing over the fluffy brown carpet toward the two babies sat giggling at the funny noises sat on a fluffy faux-fur polar bear rug. The babies both tried to lean forward; only recently strong enough to lean forward without back support, if even for a few seconds and gladly took their bottles still supported by their mothers loving hand.
Their eyes began to droop as they neared the end of the bottles fill. Their mother slowly took each one and bounced them lightly until their burped. Ten minutes later they were asleep in the flats only bedroom, both tucked into a small crib looking like two angels.
Their mother, Sarah, quietly shut the door, leaving a small lamp on, and headed downstairs. She grabbed the Christmas dinner she been preparing and sat quietly at the cheap wooden table. She lit a single candle and turned out the lights, eating her dinner by candlelight. If anyone had been there to listen to her, sat in the solitary light of a single flame, on her own, they'd have heard her make a quiet noise as the aneurism burst. She stiffened before slumping face down into the food. No one would find her until in two days time when the neighbours finally got annoyed at the crying of the children. No one attended her funeral.
January 1st 1961
Elizabeth and Andrew Tyler smiled at each other from behind the wheel of the expensive 1961 Ferrari Spyder. In the back seat the new Michael Tyler slept quietly, tucked in, clinging to a stuffed teddy bear. Things were looking up for the little child as the car pulled up a gravel drive to a massive mansion house. In less than a year's time the final fuzzy memory of his identical twin would fade away.
As he slept the whispered voice of his mother cooed loving words to him, bringing peaceful dreams and sweet memories.
Things were very different for Toby. Harold Preece smirked to himself as he and his knew son walked away from the cheap orphanage in an even cheaper pram to the nearest trailer park. In his eyes he'd just secured his own personal servant in a few years time, not to mention human boxing bag. Yes, things were looking up for Harold Preece.
Unseen by either the sleeping child or his new father a fly chose that moment to die and landed soundlessly on the sleep child. For a second it lay still then there was a sudden jerking motion through its body and it took off again.