Part Two: Into the Fire

Prologue – October 28, 1995

Doctor John Anthony Adams hadn't understood why the last serum hadn't worked. They had perfected the algorithms and had only taken subjects they thought could withstand the process. Patients #2 and #4 had reacted very poorly to the last serum. They were still in the medical bay. They had been trying to create a counter serum to waylay any negative effects, but the whole process was a disaster waiting to happen. Some of the experiments he had headed over the years had been questionable, but when his boss had discovered the basic formula for the Neurological Potential Stimulus, he had insisted they drop everything else and pursue the possibilities. There was clearly an element missing though and every attempt so far had been a failure. He wasn't sure where his boss had acquired the research, but it wasn't his job to question him.

He had a fresh batch of serum and patients that were still willing to go through with the process. Patient #3 had been particularly eager to continue on. The patients' names were kept completely confidential. Not even he knew their real names. The next round of injections was scheduled for 5 pm that night. Adams prepared himself, double-checking that everything was in place. They had decided to chain the patients tonight – with their permission – just in case they had a repeat of #2 and #4. In a business like this, risk was necessary for return, but sometimes the risks could lead to catastrophe. Safety was a must.

His watch beeped as five o'clock arrived, and he pulled on his lab coat. His employees were already on the floor, chaining #1, #3, #5, and #6 to the walls. He nodded to his research assistants and four injections were brought forward. Each patient winced as the serum was injected into their bloodstream. The doctor looked down at his log and began to record.

…

Fire burned through his veins like the hottest pits of hell. He writhed in agony but the chains restricted his movement. The #3 stamp on his arm blurred as his skin broke out in a feverish sweat. He moaned as pain wracked his body. It felt like something large was trying to fit through his veins but couldn't quite squeeze through. #1 and #6 were moaning too. He didn't know their names, but he felt as if their shared pain brought them together in a sort of sick brotherhood. They had all signed up for this after all. The head of research was observing them with a passive expression on his face, scribbling notes on his notepad every few minutes. It felt like an intrusion, but he knew that it was all part of the process. He looked over at the man to his left. He was shaking almost uncontrollably and seemed to be having some sort of seizure. Try as he may, he couldn't keep the fear from entering his mind as he watched his fellow patient suffer.

Time was endless in this godforsaken research facility. His own shakes were beginning to slowly subside and he was feeling much better than he had with the last serum injection. Before he had lost consciousness after the first few minutes and had nearly gone into shock as his body tried to fight off the unsuccessful serum. His vision began to clear, and he became more aware of his surroundings. #5 was straining at his chains, growling with an inhuman noise that seemed to be unsettling the research assistants. He began to strain against his restraints, and they groaned under the pressure. The assistants began to shout and two came forward to try to keep him under control. With a sudden lurch, he pulled the chains straight out of the walls. He swung at one of the assistants, sending the young man flying across the room where he hit a locker. Both the locker and the man fell to the ground. Three more assistants swarmed around #5 and somehow managed to restrain him. A tranquilizer subdued him, and he was removed from the room.

#2 and #6 were removed a few moments later as they began to show the same signs. He watched as they too were subdued and dragged from the room down to the basement. Was his body accepting the serum? Why was he reacting so differently? The researchers watched him cautiously, but he felt fine. Only a dull pain was left. He stood calmly as the night wore on. Some time later, he heard screaming from the basement. It was the same inhuman sound that sent chills through his body. He wanted to ask what was happening. One of the research assistants was speaking in quick German into a tape recorder. He asked what was happening in the basement and the man gave him a surprised look. It was only after the researcher started speaking in excited German that he realized what he had done – he too had spoken in German. He hadn't meant to, hadn't even known how, but he just had. He gulped. Was the serum working? It was supposed to help his brain reach its full potential. Understanding new languages could easily be one of the results of the serum. He felt a surge of excitement. His shivers had all but faded and the pain had turned into a sharp awareness. Everything was brighter and sharper. He felt as if he was absorbing his surroundings, taking in every little detail and micro-analyzing it with quick precision.

"How are you feeling?" the head research assistant asked, coming up to him with his clipboard. Every line on his face was in sharp contrast and the smell of blood and chemicals was pungent though his white uniform was clean.

"I feel…aware."

"Can you elaborate?"

"I can sense everything, learn everything. It's incredible. What's happening with the other patients?" he asked.

The doctor's brow knit together. "They're…struggling. Their bodies are rejecting the serum."

"Why is mine not?"

"Clearly you're stronger. Your body has accepted it and is starting to utilize its new found powers."

A particularly loud cry of agony went up from downstairs. He winced. "Can't you do anything for them?"

"We're trying to give them a sedative, but they won't calm down. I don't want anyone getting hurt in the process." As he spoke an alarm started to blare. The man looked up, and fear glinted in his eyes.

"We need to evacuate!" one of the research assistants yelled, running into the room. "The patients have escaped! They're showing signs of superhuman strength, but their minds seem to have gone."

The researcher looked panicked. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he said. "Gather what you can. Save the research." There was a tremendous roar and the building shook. "Do what you have to," he said with a sharp nod.

He meant to kill them. What had the serum done to them? Would the same thing happen to him? He tested his chains. He strained his muscles, but his physical strength had not changed. He didn't understand why it was affecting his fellow patients differently. The researchers were in chaos, gathering what they could. He could hear shouts and cries of pain below his feet. Suddenly three gunshots rang out and everything else fell silent. He felt sickened. This wasn't what he had signed up for. No one was supposed to die. Not like that. Was he next? The researchers seemed to have forgotten his presence though. Finally the head researcher paused, his briefcase tucked under his arm. He looked at his patient for a long while before taking a set of keys and unlocking the chained cuffs.

"Come with me," he said.

At first his patient followed but it occurred to him that he didn't need to be tested anymore. He had his ability; he had what he came for. The possibilities were infinite. He looked down at his arm where the #3 was still inked into his skin. As they breached the night, he slipped away while the doctor was shouting orders to his men. He faded into the forest, new abilities leading him onward. He had work to do. The research notes he had seen in the lab were now etched on the insides of his eyes like an instant textbook. He would recreate the serum and become the most powerful man alive.