Disclaimer: I do not own the Island, but I own anyone or thing you have not yet heard of. I realize that this movie is not out yet, all the more reason to put this up now. I want to see what I can do when I am merely playing off the trailers and what little snippets I've gathered from other sources.
Message from Merrick Biotech Organizations as read on the Files Storeroom # 409, 11th drawer, File name (11.9.12.12.9.1.14/17.21.9.14.14.):
Due to the unsavory nature of the writing found in the falsified contents of these pages, all published copies have been banned and destroyed under Code: 1279 of the Merrick Biotech Institute and Industry. All eyes who take in these words, please remember all accounts are null and void and should not be taken seriously. Under no circumstances should this volume be removed from its place of security, as it still holds substantial evidence in the open case and ongoing search for Product 11.9.12.12.9.1.14/17.21.9.14.14, still in progress, overseen by Dr. Merrick, head of the Biotech Organization, himself.
For those with concerns on the subject matter, Dr. Henry Merrick assures them that the situation will be resolved within the year, and begs patience of them until that time.
If you or anyone of your acquaintance has any information on the convict and its whereabouts, please report such findings immediately. Any deliberately withheld information will result in high fines, interrogation, and possible imprisonment.
Captain of Investigations of the Merrick Biotech Branch,
Howard Shale
Hello, my name is Killian Quinn.
Not product 11.9.12.12.9.1.14/17.21.9.14.14., but Killian. Killian Quinn, my given birth name. Yes, I do have a name.
I was born…just not the way you were. I live…just not in the extravagant luxury you do. I eat what nourishment I can find, I get what uninterrupted sleep I am able to, and I run to stay alive.
I'm about to tell you something you've never heard before. I'm going to tell you what MBT refuses to disclose to the public.
I'm going to tell you a story…
A true story too, I figured you had enough lies as it is.
A story about an island. An Island that everyone has heard of but no one has seen…not really…and I think it's past time you did.
As for you, the ones who are right now sweeping the shelves clean, removing all evidence, all trace of my accomplishment…you're too late. You can't recall all of them, all the novels in all the stores in every country, in every city, in every town, in every home. A scarce few will slip through your defenses and what then?
Picture it.
Imagine…all that precious work, the trialing experiments, the time and effort you have put into all your dear projects, razed to the ground, and carried off by the dry merciless Tucson wind.
It's a frightening thought, isn't it? That you might fail…that all your work will have been for nothing…that more might rebel. I wasn't the first to challenge you, I was just the first to escape alive after doing so.
And I won't be the last. That is something I can guarantee you.
And as for you, Dr. Henry Merrick; I admire your tenacity to continue on a trek that ultimately yields fruitless results time and time again. You are nothing if not dedicated. But your efforts, hell bent as they are, are in vain. By the time you read this for yourself, I will have disappeared yet again, slipped through those elegant surgeon's fingers once more.
That has to cause some small amount of annoyance and irritation, I'm sure. The added salt to the wound must be the knowledge that even your most impressive and professional of search teams has yet to bring me back. Tell Captain Shale, I salute his tireless faith and conviction to your cause, despite its obvious defects. He almost had me once or twice, I think. The poor old boy does try so hard to make right. You really ought to send him on holiday for the good of his health.
But…
If I know you well, and I do, you won't do such a thing. You can't afford to lose someone of Shale's caliber and talent at a time like this, can you? Your vast empire is beginning to crumble all around you, the foundations are giving way, and you'll do anything and all in your power to delay that inevitable process. You will hunt me down, fight to regain your upper hand with the press to save the face of Biotech, even if it costs you your life.
If the end of your existence is all I must wait for until things can be made fully right…I will bide my time in some remote location until that time when you work yourself into an early but well deserved grave. And that won't take long the way things have been going.
I caught a glance of your interview with Channel 605-Technicon's Amalia Grant. The bags under your eyes have gotten worse, Henry. Not getting enough sleep lately, are we? Don't work too hard now; we wouldn't want you to actually catch up with me one of these days.
I leave you other readers with my testimony of the events as they happened, how they happened, and why they happened. You many multitudes out there all think yourselves individuals, unique…well, you're not. We are your shadows, your mirror images, your sacrificial doppelgangers, and we want lives of our own now.
I first learned what I was at the age of eighteen. I had just excelled at my higher learning courses at that age. My friends and I greeted the warmer months with exuberant happiness, with the anxious hope that now that we were citizens of age, one of us could be chosen for the Lottery Spin. A chance to be allowed entrance into the world's last surviving paradise, a relative Utopia. A chance to go to the Island.
My name is Killian Quinn and I am singer Kitty Rayne's clone.
