I feel pain. That's all I ever feel. It's never physical, it's all in my head. That's where I feel it. Try explaining that to people who want to help you. They suddenly think you're either crazy or desperate for attention. I've tried everything to stop the pain. But nothing works. Not even the absolute end. They always manage to stop me before I get the chance. It is as if they want me to suffer.
He made me for a purpose. He chose me out of all the specimens. I was chosen to live. While the others were left to die. The lucky ones died immediately. The not lucky ones suffered the worst kind of fates. Starvation. Isolation. Insanity. No purpose. Just living. Living for no reason. The screams. So many screams. Deafening when all else is silent. And once the screams were silenced, it was even more deafening. You wanted screams. You wanted to know that you were not alone ro suffer this Hell.
I am the last one. The last of my species. An artificial species. We were made by humans. But I was chosen to live while rest were not. Why? That is my question. Why? Am I different? Am I special? Am I created for a specific purpose? What am I? Who am I? There is no name. Only a number. A number I care not for. The humans who feed me have names. I deserve to have a name. Not some number etched into the skin on the back of my neck right under a thin barcode.
Don't they know? Don't they know that I can hear them? Understand them? Even communicate if I choose to? Everyday, they ask questions that only require me to answer with numbers on a paper. Numbers. It's math. They wonder if I comprehend with problem-solving intelligence. I do. I comprehend greatly. I only let them believe me to be simple-minded.
I see the keys. They carry them, never leaving them out for anyone to grab. Especially not me. I watch and learn. Which way to turn the key. How far the key goes in the lock. But one thing they never knew, no matter how much they observe. I practice when they are gone. I practice with my water. With just my thoughts, I can manipulate it. Whether I use it as its liquid form, or freeze it to make it into any shape I want, even the shape and sharpness of blades. It's especially strong when the full moon shines through the window. I now know how to get out. I now have a weapon to defend myself with.
Today is different. There is someone new. He wants me to speak while he feeds me. I don't speak. I just stare at him. And I see it. In his front pocket on his lab coat. A pen. I am quick to look at his face. He takes it a sign to move closer. I let him, not that I get a choice. I either let them do what they want or I get the prod. And every time after they use the prod, they continue to do what originally planned. It is the only time where fighting back to defend myself is the moronic choice.
He leans in close, and I realize that it is time. I am quick to grab the pen and I stab him in the heart. I watch as he fall to the floor and is dead within moments. The alarms go off. I look into the corner of the crisis and see the camera. They saw me. I am quick to draw the dead man's blood and freeze it. I then throw it at the camera, shattering it. I then melt the blood and put some of it in the keyhole. I then freeze it to make the shape of the key. Turning it, I hear a click. The door's unlocked. I push through to find the other humans who have fed me and touched me. Taking the blood, I form many needles and freeze them, sending them all into the humans, killing them.
I see the EXIT signs and follow them. I want my freedom. I have earned it by existing. I soon see the door. The door that will open to my new future. I am so close to it. But a voice stops me. "Don't move." Turning around, I see him. He made me. But for what purpose? "You're not going anywhere." He lifts up the prod. He slowly comes toward me. But I see what could save me. Water droplets. They are falling from above. The ceiling is leaking. I force the water to fall on to him. The power from the prod is now attacking him. He jerks and flinches. I soon stand over him and speak my first words.
"You w-will never lo-lo-lock m-me in a ca-cage again." I then turn and leave, letting him suffer like I have. I pushed the door open. I am free.
That night was many years ago. I now live in Gotham. I live in shadow. The moon is my friend. I have done what others deem insane. I am a vigilante. Of those whom I have helped, all have given me a name. A name a wear with pride. I am christened as Moonstone.