Green

5/14/2008 Somewhere in Brazil

Camping in the Amazon Rainforest, Jonathan reflected, sucked, as a lesser man would say, major ass. Why? It wasn't the heat. It wasn't the humidity. No, it was the amount of biting insects that never goddamn stopped.

"Hao ma fan*... Thank the fucking lord that I'm immune to these damn insects... thank Greenlight that I can actually get some useful information out of them... Still annoying as fuck though."

Still, he considered, it was better than the alternative; that being dead in a morgue in some Gentek research facility. Packing his meager effects, Jonathan trudged deeper into the Amazon, his biomass continually being assaulted and absorbing the pesky insects that continued to plague him.

'I should probably get back to America, bet the others are already at the safehouse.'

Continuing his trek, Jonathan marched steadily north, taking no detours in his chosen path; melding around trees, walking through rivers, flying over mountains.

"Ptew! Ach, piranha taste like shit!"

5/23/2008 Somewhere in Florida, around West Palm Beach

Finally reaching the very southern tip of Florida after his several hundred mile long flight over ocean and various islands, Jonathan made his way inland, noting that one of his colleagues had recently left the state barely one month before.

'Maybe I shouldn't have spent so long trying to make new gene combos... nah, it was worth it.'

As he made his way north, he unknowingly made his way past a few very interested observers, all three unassuming, but able and willing to kill at a moment's notice.

If you couldn't figure it out, these were Blackwatch Assassins. And they had just seen a man fly out of nowhere and walk past their position.

"Command, this is Blackwatch Team 36; we're either hallucinating or we just found something worth a second look. Either way, we've tagged a target. Over"

"Blackwatch Team 36, you have a go ahead. Please proceed with caution. And this time, don't blow up a public landmark. Over."

"Haha, screw you too, Cal. Screw you too. Over"

We'll just leave them to their bickering, shall we?

Five miles North, Jonathan's location

"Shit, I'm hungry... No no, it's bad form to consume other people in broad daylight." These were the words of a disgruntled former scientist who had not had a proper consuming of biomass for upwards of a week. And by proper, I mean having more biomass than a sea bird.

You know, those small ones. Like seagulls but less common in the USA.

No, he didn't eat any whales. Jonathan still respects the near endangered status of whales, being a former supporter if Greenpeace and all.

Okay, he ate some dolphins earlier, but only because they were harassing a shark.

He ate the shark too, if it's any consolation.

The walking viral mass suddenly stopped and sniffed the air, taking in the myriad of scents around him, some good- like that hotdog stand over there- some bad- oh god what the hell kinda perfume is that!? Burning dogshit!?- and others just plain strange.

For instance, the smell of gunpowder and oil and kevlar fabric.

Jonathan cursed himself, he'd been spotted!

"Shit! Just what I need right now! Fuck... oh wait. This is what I need!"

And so, the barely infectious mass of disguised viral goo slipped into a convenient alleyway, unconsciously consuming the hapless mugger concealed within, and waited for his prey.

He didn't wait long.

From just outside the alley, Jonathan heard the chattering of a radio and the click-click of guns cocking. He smiled, finally he'd be able to absorb more human biomass!

Blackwatch Team 36 was a small group, one of the smallest, in fact. But all of them worked extremely well together, and were capable of taking down larger teams fairly easily.

Of course, none were very good at destroying viral organisms like Jonathan Lee or Alex Mercer, but they had never needed to in the first place. And this simple fact doomed them.

It started like this:

First: Team 36 followed Jonathan into the alley, noticing the small splatter of blood on the ground.

Second: Jonathan had reverted to his ooze-form and had slithered behind them.

Third: The only female member of the group turned around and saw the wriggling mass of sickly green and black tendrils reform into their target.

Things quickly got out of hand.

And by the time the police had arrived, there was no trace of either Jonathan or Team 36, save for some spent bullet casings and a lot of blood.

Further north, now around the site of Daphne Blayne's escape, Jonathan chuckled to himself. Maybe the detour cost him some time, but at least he had some way to defend himself. And plus, it was nice not having to worry about stray bullets and the like.

When monsters roam in the daylight, good men must take to the shadows. But, there are monsters in the shadows as well. So really, where are the good men?

A/N: Uhh... I got nothing to say here.

*Hao ma fan In Chinese, this basically translates into "How troublesome"