AN: Hello, and welcome to the Work in Progress that is this story. I'm gonna be honest, I took a bit too much inspiration from Stranger Things and Lusus Naturae- the song by Jeff Williams, not, you get it.
Disclaimer: I own next to nothing of the actual stuff here. Well, maybe like 10% of it, but the rest goes to RT.
Thing #2: This is going to take place right after Volume 1, episode 10. So right after Weiss talks to Port about leadership. It won't come into play just yet, but probably in the next chapter.
Chapter 1:
A woman walked down a brightly lit hallway, the florescent lights humming above her as she strolled towards a metal vault-like door at the end of the hall, every step deliberate as if she planned where she would plant her feet and when. In her hands was a metal tray with a blue cake slice placed on a plate, a plain metal fork and knife right next to it. A white lab-coat billowed behind her as she reached the solid reinforced door. The woman placed her hand on a small fingerprint scanner on her left, waiting a couple of seconds before the door opened with a sealed hiss, revealing their greatest experiment to date.
"Hello, Farayan," the woman greeted politely as she held the cake forward. Inside the door was a small room about the same size as a hospital room with just the same feeling of discontent lingering. The majority of the space was taken up by a plain white bed pushed up against the far, plain white wall near a nightstand with an average toilet sitting in the opposite corner, along with a couple of books tossed casually along the white carpeted floor.
And sitting on the bed was a young teenage boy with jet black hair, cut short nearly to his scalp, and bright, sea blue eyes. A small set of light gray clothes covered the boy's slender but surprisingly strong physique. He looked up from the book he was reading, eyeing the cake with a hint of greediness. "Happy thirteenth birthday."
I should probably start from the beginning.
My name's Farayan Shen. Age? I'm actually not really sure. My best bet is probably ten and 13 Haircuts. Haven't seen a calendar since 13 Haircuts ago, and the stuff they give me isn't really helping me find out. And the stuff they haven't given me also doesn't help, like not going outside in… whenever.
So, what am I doing here? Honestly: I have no idea. But I know it's still better than what would've happened to me if these guys didn't take me in. Unless I want to face a terrible mom, a drunk dad, or even the amazingly disturbing foster home I was sent to, I'm sticking here.
The only thing they told me is that I was going to do "revolutionary work that could change human nature as we know it". And who doesn't want to do that? Make the world better than before, plus get out of all the stinking stuff I had outside of the lab- I couldn't have signed my name faster than they could give me the form.
So, here I am. Day one, they hooked me up to this machine to find out everything personal they needed to know. Once the scientists did that, it was a lot more… weird. The people gave me one of those bags on a line you'd find in a hospital show (I think it's called an IV bag)? But it wasn't filled with the clear thing or blood- well, not really regular blood, if you could call blood regular. When they gave it to me, it felt… cold, but warm. And it felt sort of unclean, and it looked the same way: regular blood red but a shade darker and with small black dots inside them. From Haircut 1 to 3, it was always a small needle of the liquid. Then, after that, it was an IV bag. And I still couldn't tell you when or how long I had between the sessions. But every time, maybe a day after every injection, they would always take some blood out of me for a sample to measure… whatever they were trying to find.
While I was on that, the scientists tested me. Dr. Treuse (I'd begin to memorize everybody's names) would give me test after test- strength, speed, sight, hearing, school tests; you name it. They must've been mad because after Haircut number 4 they kept increasing how often they came. But, after Haircut 10, I think they got what they wanted. Dr. Treuse stopped giving me my daily (or was it weekly?) tests like running around a track for hours (or minutes, I couldn't tell) and instead gave me a lot more time between them, judging from how my muscles never ached anymore.
Today, or night, I had another time to relax, so I curled up into a small ball and read another textbook these guys wanted to cram down my throat. How come even when you're trying to do revolutionary work, Algebra's still the most important thing in the world to some people?
This time, though, something different happened. Which… doesn't. For 13 Haircuts, they haven't sprung anything new on me besides the next textbook or next test. But Dr. Treuse opened my door today, showing her bright green hair and calculating eyes in all her glory. And another thing new: she was smiling. Dr. Treuse never did that; it was always stoic looks or small looks of pride, but no smiles.
"Hello, Farayan," Dr. Treuse greeted politely. In her arms was- my mouth watered- cake. I hadn't had any at all from the time when I was in here. "Happy thirteenth birthday."
The cake disappeared from my eyes as I stared at Dr. Treuse in horror. "Isn't… isn't it my eleventh?" A shake of her head gave me all the information I needed before I hugged my knees close to my chest.
I lost two years of my life. Two birthday parties I wouldn't have. And they still keep testing, so I haven't done anything but waste the last two years.
The only thing I have is now, I know the date- August 12, my birthday. And yet, knowing that makes it sadder. I should be at school now. I should be making friends and hanging out with them after classes. I should've been groaning about the end of summer. Instead, I got this- no friends, no teachers, no school, and no summer that I could make of.
Dr. Treuse set the cake on the nightstand before shutting the door behind her wordlessly. I knew what would happen next. They'd use the cameras I saw on Haircut 8 to watch my response- either eat it or don't. Then, the small chip they put in my arm on Haircut 1 to monitor blood pressure, breathing, and every other medical term out there. My response? Flipping off the camera and leaving the cake there as I sulked in the corner.
Two years of my life lost. And they had the nerve to try and celebrate my thirteenth birthday like it never happened.
And that was also the day I realized what I was there for.
Soon after the whole cake incident, another doctor, Griswald if memory serves, did the check up on me before taking the cake away. Before the door could shut behind him, though, a book I'd planted wedged the door open just a crack. And when I knew no one would check up in another couple of… hours, probably, my fingers were able to peel the door open enough for my slender body to fit through. And just like that, I was in the halls.
As soon as my foot touched the floor, a small sense of elation sprung in my heart, another step closer to freedom. But, when I reached the end of the hall, a 'T' formed, splitting into two paths. I had no idea which one to take, so I stood there for a moment too long. Footsteps approached from the left hall, forcing me to duck into a door that, fortunately, led to a closet full of cleaning supplies. Forcing the gag back down my throat, the footsteps made the hall rumble with noise, and then I could hear wheels squeaking against the floor as metal rattled against metal.
"Please, don't make me," a small voice exclaimed from outside where the footfalls came from. The voice was chillingly familiar as I opened the door a crack, peering through the small slit. What I saw made me gag harder than the cleaning supplies' aroma.
Four men in soldier white uniforms pushed a large cart with metal bars like a dog cage. Three other scientists, one with a tablet Scroll, stood off to the side as they looked into the cage with detached interest as if they were dissecting nothing more than a frog. Inside the cage was what scared me. A small Grimm creature thrashed around in its jail, slamming over and over into the bars as it tried to escape. The features it had were almost unrecognizable of a regular Grimm- wings of a Nevermore strapped onto the body of a Beowolf. Instead of a Beowolf or even a Nevermore's head was an almost human-like face, complete with red eyes, a bony skull, and fur forming a mop of black for hair. That's all there was, though, as there was no mouth, no nose, and a set of Goliath tusks protruding out from its chin.
"Please, no more," the same voice whimpered. I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle a scream as I realized where the voice came from. "No more," the Grimm shouted, slamming a paw against the sides of the cage. In that instant, I knew who's voice I was hearing: mine.
That's why they needed my blood. They gave it to that… that thing for some god damn science experiment. I stared at my arm, looking at the small scabbed dot where the needles would always be put in. And that's probably what they were putting in me. That Grimm's blood.
"This was their idea of a revolution," I thought in disgust. The wheels squeaked by as the horrifying shrieks of the Grimm died off. As soon as I felt safe, I ran. I ran down the halls where they came from, not caring if someone saw me. All I needed was to get out of here right now. My bare feet pounded on the floor as the noise echoed through the empty halls, lasting almost a minute before someone came bolting out through a side room. The scientist, with his lab coat still stained with blue and black goo, slammed a bright red button that lined the halls at regular intervals. Along with it, he shouted into a small mic built into the wall, "Code Red, Code Red! Subject One has escaped." Then, he turned to me, eyes widening even further behind a set of thick square glasses. "Farayan? How did you get out?" he asked in shock.
I gave no reply while sprinting by him, looking around frantically for a sign that said 'exit'. "Code Omega," the scientist started yelling again, "Subject One and Two have escaped."
Alarms started blaring over my head as the halls were painted in red light. My already beating heart grew louder and louder until it drowned out the alarms. Still, nothing labeled as an exit. As I kept searching, gunshots rang out from behind me, echoing down the halls like at any time they would be aimed at me. Needless to say, I ran a lot faster after that.
Every door I pushed on either led to another closet, a locked door, or more scientists scurrying around to clean up various experiments. There was one door at the end of the hall; it felt like it was calling to me so much, I could almost taste the fresh air. But again- locked. "Please," I yelled at nothing, tugging as hard as I could against the handle and then slamming my shoulder again and again into the door. The door didn't even jostle in the slightest.
Another gunshot rang out, this time at the very end of the hallway. I looked back in horror as a soldier ran around the corner, a wild look in his eyes. He looked back at a looming shadow with his gun up, emptying the last of his clip into the thing before it ended in a horrifying click, click of an empty gun. I saw his eyes go wide right before the deformed Grimm pounced on him, dragging the poor man back as he clawed the floor, screaming before he was quickly silenced.
I collapsed against the door, bile trying to push itself up my throat, as the shadow came back around the corner. The Grimm slowly stalked towards me, its humane-like skull caked with blood and its wings took up almost the entire hallway. With a gut-wrenching realization, I noticed that a mouth now formed on its face while it chattered and gnashed its razor-sharp teeth together, almost like it was trying to form words. The Grimm stalked closer and closer until it loomed over me, its face inches away from mine. I could see every small detail etched in its head- the deep sockets housing violet eyes, its open mouth now revealing a sharp narrow tongue, to even the stench of blood mixed with its hot breath.
It opened and closed its mouth a few more times as I watched in horrified fascination, petrified as realization dawned on me; I had no escape. This is where I die. And in an extreme twist, the Grimm opened its mouth again, this time to speak with its mouth following its vocal chords in sync, "Are you Farayan?"
It took a second for me to know what it was saying. "W-what?" I stuttered, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up stiffer than my knees.
The beast leaned in a bit closer as its eyes examined me, eyeing every little detail about me in a matter of seconds. "You're Farayan, aren't you?" it asked in my voice.
"W-why do you want to know?" I shot back with my voice shaking as much as my body.
The Grimm tilted his head, almost as if considering my question. "Well," it replied, "You have what I need. If you give it to me, I'll let you live. The others said they weren't Farayan, so I killed them." It said, 'killed them' so matter-of-factly, like he only said, "They weren't Farayan, so I ignored them."
"I-I… I'm Farayan," I avowed. When it raised a paw menacingly, I shrieked, putting my hands up in front of my face as I cowered away. "Please, I swear," I exclaimed.
The Grimm lowered its paw as it eyed me with a new interest. "You're Farayan," it mused. If its face wasn't so horrifyingly Grimm-like, I would've mistaken it for a human's.
"Y-Yes, I'm Farayan," I confirmed, "What do you need?" Before it answered, I tucked my head between my legs and added, "Please, I just wanted to live."
"Okay," my voice chirped from in front of me, "All I want," I looked up at its dark face. It grinned menacingly, not losing a hair of its disturbing and horrifying look. The Grimm's eyes seemed to change colors in front of my eyes, from red to violet, from violet to pitch black, until it eventually settled on blue. "All I want," it repeated, the chattering of its teeth finally stopping as it mouthed the words without a delay, "Is your life."
My eyes widened until they took up my entire face with my mouth opening to a shrill scream just as the Grimm pounced, biting into my bicep. My world turned red before fading to black, my last thought being, "Never trust the Grimm."
AN: Yeah, writing in first-person isn't really my style. Hello, it's Fireflame. Well, here's the story. Grimm-infused boy that's gonna be on the run. I'm gonna be honest, I really planned for the last 4 chapters, not the first few. And if any of you read Wilting Rose, there should be a few familiar faces. Not many besides what RoosterTeeth has already shown us, but one or two.
Anyways, there's chapter one of this story! Stick around, it's gonna get good.
Signing out, Flames of Fire.