Chapter 1: Merlot

Dr. Wardarc's POV

22:16, Wednesday, November 13

Washington, D.C.

This was tedious.

I swiveled back and forth in the chair, my eyes scanning over the article. It was well written, sure, but God did it absolutely reek of...imitation. Almost like a bad fan fiction. There were bits of it that sounded straight out of a soap opera.

Sighing, I sat up, and looked the intern in the eyes. He puffed out his chest, the poor thing, like a rooster does to impress a hen. Actually, most of his did look like a rooster. His cropped, spiky hair gelled to stick up almost vertically. His sharp, beaklike nose. His oddly skinny legs.

I lean forwards, planting my elbows on the desk, "Well hon, I certainly loved the article."

"Y-you really did?"

Lord, even his voice fits the rooster theme, I thought, trying not to cringe. "Yes. It was great. But I don't really think you're right for this job. Thank you anyways for trying out for the position." I passed the tablet over the desk to him, but instead of taking it, he sat there, shell shocked, staring at the glowing screen.

"B-b-but I don-don't understand." He stumbled to find what to say, staring at his own work in front of him with the look of a student who had just gotten a bad grade on the essay they work really hard on.

"It feels too…" I waved my hands around, sort of exaggerating. "Fictional. You seem more like a creative writer than a journalist. No offense though, it was still good. Just not how I wanted it to be."

He looked even more confused than before, "Ma'am, when you asked me to write a fake article, I assumed you wanted me to write it for some kind of narrative piece," his eyes widened, "Y-you're not going to publish it or something, are you?"

"Look," I put my hands on his, smiling a bit, "you're a really sweet kid. You seem genuine, reliable. The kind of kid you would want as a friend in high school. But this isn't high school, hon. If you want to make it in the real world, you need to know something about adults.

"We lie. We fight. We're more than what you want to see us as. We're people too, you know, just trying to make it in the world. Now that you're a member of this adult world, you need to be able to lie and fight as well. This is your training for that, young man," I leaned back in the chair, appearing to be more relaxed, but keeping my spine up straight for the proper posture. "So you should really be thanking me for rejecting you."

He shook his head, the little brat. He looked...angry.

Aww, so it does have a backbone, I thought, almost laughing. He looked kind of like a pitbull puppy, thinking he's more tough that he actually is.

"Ma'am, I need to report you to the police if you're writing fake news and publishing it. This is so far out of the boundaries of 'okay'."

This time I did laugh. Loudly, so hard that it made my throat close up. I coughed a bit, before taking the handkerchief out from the inside of my blazer and wiping my now teary eyes with it. "Oh, oh, you're too much. The police? Wow, so scary." I kept laughing, unable to contain it, hardly even hearing him repeat the law against fake news back to me (which he'd apparently had memorized).

I sat up, shaking my head. "Hon, you actually think that I wouldn't have the police on my side? You do know who I am, right?"

He nodded. "Dr. Wardarc, Head of the Department of Bioengineering and Mutations at the Earth Protection Force. But that doesn't mean spreading lies about mutants is okay."

"Ah, but it is," I said, standing up and walking over to the wine rack. "Would you care for some merlot? It's imported from Bordeaux."

He was quivering with anger now, "How are you so calm? How do you do it?!"

I took a wine glass off the wall, completely ignoring the question. "Colin, isn't it? A nice name. When I was little, there was a boy in my Sunday school named Colin," I laughed remembering the story. "My mother - she taught that specific class, but most of the time she was a full time pastor - she called him 'Colon' because that's how his name was spelled. My mother always used to say 'that boy's name is spelled so wrong!'."

Smiling, I handed him a delicate crystal glass, before pouring the shiny, ink like substance into his cup, "My mother was a pastor, my father was a police officer. They were both extremely successful in life, and they had high expectations for me."

I put an arm around Colin, but instead of shying away from me (the smarter thing to do), he simply watched, unsure of how to react, but listening, waiting for his moment to act, "When they died, I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I knew I wanted to impact the world, to help it, in the way they always wanted to but never could.

"And then I realized, Colin: mutants. They were everywhere, even when I was a young girl, but especially now, especially when they're in the spotlight. Everybody's always known about them, but nobody wanted to talk about them until now. With the recent invasions, especially the three month long invasion that ended back last April, the tensions have been higher than ever.

"New York needs our help. They're too distraught to sort themselves out on their own, so they need our help. Especially the more interesting part of their population. And we are going to help them. You, however, are not going to take part in that, apparently," I sipped the wine, looking at him with clear disappointment.

"So Colin, I would like you to understand that when writing those articles, we are not spreading lies. We are doing what is best for our country."

"B-but that's not okay. That's not what's right. This isn't what's best for the country."

I sipped the merlot, before looking down on the short man and pressed nailed fingers to his mouth, "Shh, we don't want to make a scene, do we?"

He yanked himself away, staring at me with disgust and disbelief. I did the same thing as I pursed my lips with distaste. Something about this boy put a repulsive taste in my mouth.

"Colin, do you support mutant rights?"

"Of course! We need to embrace change for this country to work properly!" His roostery voice screeched.

"Then why did you take on the job to write the article?" I cock my hip to the side, swirling the wine inside it's exquisite glass.

His pudgy face went bright red, his arms crossing like an animal trying to protect it's inners from a predator. "I needed the money. With all the eBooks and stuff, there's not a lot for someone to do with an English major."

"First of all, that's your mistake," I mused, coming closer to him. His lips quivered, and he backed himself closer to the door. "Second of all, let's give you a question, a real philosophical one for a real philosophical person - I assume you must be, you majored in English - ; there's a train coming, and on either side of the fork in the tracks, there's always someone blocking it. On one side is ten mutants, and on the other, one human man."

"Why can't they get off the tracks?"

I swipe my hand through the air and roll my eyes, "That's besides the point. Their feet are glued down, or whatever. Anyways, the question is, which do you save, and which do you sacrifice?"

"Well...I'd probably save the ten mutants. I know, it's wrong either way, but saving the ten mutants makes it so there are less lives lost."

I nodded, slowly, processing the thoughts running through my head. Foul. Absolutely foul, the things that are going on these days. What are they teaching these kids to make them think that mutants are even half the worth of humans?

"Um...Dr. Wardarc...you're kind of confusing me."

My back straightened, and I gave a small smile to Colin. "That's sort of the point, Colin. Well, I can now see that you're officially a mutant sympathizer. I suppose it's all up to opinion, then. You said you needed the money? Are you in debt?"

"Well, that's kind of a hard question to answer…" he trailed off, looking at the ground.

"I can make it so you don't have to pay that debt, Colin." I extended one hand, exposing teeth in my smile now.

"R-really?" He looked up, quirking an eyebrow. "But you seemed so adamantly against me just a couple seconds ago...why would you pay off the debts for me?"

Hysterical laughter followed. From me, of course, not Colin. What a ridiculous thought.

I wiped tears from my eyes, before taking a large swig from the merlot in my hand. "Young man, did you actually think I was going to pay your debt for you?"

"B-but you said-"

When I snapped my fingers, the door flew open, and a pair of armed guards crowded into the tiny, rectangular space, severely out of place in the rustic style of my office.

"Guards, take him to the Drawing Board," I gestured to Colin, and gave him one last smile. "Prepare yourself, young man."

"Hold up, hold up, what's going on?" Colin's face turned this weird shade of shamrock green, his hands going bright red as the blood flow was cut off by the rough pair of hands on each wrist.

"Well, if you love mutants so much, why don't you become one?" I asked, shrugging and turning away, hoping to never see him again. If I did, I might've felt guilty. And Lord knows how much of a disaster mutant sympathizing is.

"Wh...NO! No, please, Dr. Wardarc, you don't need to do this! Please! I have a life, you can't take that from me!"

As the blood curdling screams faded down the hall, the merlot in my glass looked even more like blood.

And yet, I still drank it.

oOoOoOoOo

Yee, cliffhangers. I love me some mystery, don't you? Especially when the author doesn't explain anything whatsoever (lol).

Now, some context. Part 1:

I have another account, with stories that are full of slightly cringey stuff. It hasn't been updated since August of 2018, so yeah, I made a new one. However, I kept some of my old OC's from those stories, only I changed several of their personalities, as well as most things about them in general, as one of them (cough cough Vanessa cough cough) started out as a blatant self insert. I decided to give her some more depth, some more originality, and some more interesting characteristics, so she isn't a carbon copy or an improved version of myself, like she originally was.

So if you do happen to stumble across my old account, 1) I'm sorry you had to see that and 2) No, that was not another author copying from me, and I am not copying from them. I dare not say the account name, but Vanessa and Bridget and all those OC's and stuff are my own characters, not something I stole. (Also shout out to my older sister LunaOdin1234 I love u gurl y'all gotta go read her stories right now)

Tbh, you'll probably find my other account through her old stories (*whispers* I've given myself away).

Part 2:

I deeply understand that retrograde amnesia is something people do actually struggle with, as well as seizures, and other medical issues I may mention throughout the story. I've done the research, and I have somewhat of an understanding of how most of it works (though this is science fiction, so some of the rules might bend), and if any of you think I may have misrepresented something in this story, please reach out to me through the reviews, and I'll fix it if I can, though most of the story does revolve around this issue.

Part 3:

Amnesia is usually seen as a trope, or a plot device for cheap drama, because that's what it is very often. It's customarily very obvious to the amnesiac is, but I'll try to keep it as vague as possible (lol you've probably already figured it out). However, I don't want amnesia to be simply a trope people are getting tired of. In fact, that's probably the main reason most won't be drawn to this story. Amnesia has been a common place plot device too many times, and it's gotten old. But despite this, amnesia has always triggered my attention, and this has been a story I've deeply wanted to publish for the past two years (that's literally how long I've had this story in my head, I just haven't gotten it out since). I originally created it as a story for a different fandom, before I realized how perfectly it worked with TMNT, so I decided you guys would be my target audience. And for that, I deeply thank you as well. I really hope you enjoy 'The Benefits of Being a Nobody', as it's my literal pride and joy.

I deeply apologize for the very long outro (this took me way too long to write). I hope they won't have to be this long in the future. If you choose to leave a review, only appropriate ones please. This is a clean site, very much unlike public restrooms. Thank you all very much for reading, the next chapter will be up soon. Keep in touch!

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-TheRealDreadPirateRoberts