DUSK
It tasted like blood.
Should I be surprised? Essentially, amniotic fluid, especially of the synthetic kind, is merely another form of the vital fluid. It provides those who breathe it in the oxygen they need, the nutrients to sustain their bodies, the warmth that makes one loose understanding of one's form if you merely close your eyes. In that eternal darkness you might stay…you would have no needs from outside this place. All is provided to you here with each breath you take…and no toxin inside of you is poison enough to harm you, as long as it is flushed out and purified. The hum of the filter has always been there…and the faint, low rumble of voices from outside the glass womb that contains me.
How long have I been here…? Time matters not – there is no measure of it in the prologue of oblivion and growth before birth. My lungs take in the coppery-tasting fluid.Copper.Yet another words gleaned from the minds of those around me. I have no control over what I come to comprehend. And they do not defend themselves against a probing they cannot feel.
Genetic rape from a woman named Judith.I shall be named after my dead, unwilling mother. The name is the feminine form of Judas, the traitor of the Messiah. So am I to be a betrayer too? Why…? I don't see why I should betray those who formed me…they have done nothing but make me from nothingness.
No. Wrong. A captured, feral Espeon was who spawned me, again, unwilling. But he could not fight against blissful, intoxicating dreams…nor could he stop an immaculate conception that took years to perfect. So many failed attempts athybridization. Now, finally,a viable specimen– better yet, she's reached adulthood. She can be the prototype, thefirst experiment, one who can further lead them to success through her body.Blood tests, ova extraction, genetic mapping, chemical exposure…why does she live? What will be wrong with her when she awakes? Surely, somethingmustgo wrong: she is anabomination, and unthinkable half-breedforsaken by Nature and God.
If I could, I would flinch at their thoughts. They hurt. Am I a toy to them?Yes.From me they will find what they need…and if I die, well, yet another example of what cannot be done next time. Next time….
The old man wants a perfect fighter.He is impressed with what they've made, but ultimately, I am not what he wants.Cloningwill prove a better route to perfection than an atrocity such as a hybrid. But I can still be used.
Wake her up. See what she can do.
The cradling waters of the cultivation tank drain around me…I mourn the loss of them. Oxygen, pure and light, filters in…I spit up the fluid in my lungs, taking first breaths…I don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to know smell. I don't want to be born, alive, thrust into the world unwilling.
But I am not an infant. I can no longer stay the child.
The glass tube around me lowers into the metal and plastic hold…the sharp aroma of bleach assaults my nose, burning away in my nostrils. I breathe through my mouth instead, but I can taste the fragrances in the air.Chinese food. Alcohol. Chocolate.Other food and drinks stuffs…. I have never eaten before, but my teeth are both blunt and sharp. I will be an omnivore, I think.
I feel cold, plastic-gloved hands taking hold of me…I do not resist. Why bother? I have no real power...merely because my mind can gleam a bit of theirs makes no difference.
Sounds are not so muffled. They are sharp. Footsteps wheeled tables sliding, shuffling of books and paper, delighted cries of congratulations – my muscles may be weak, but I shall become strong with theirtraining. I will learn what they want me to learn, and then some. They set me down on the table, laying me flat on my back…my tail gets in the way, so they turn me onto my side…they feel my limbs, my muscles, touching everywhere. I don't like how they pinch at me, how they grope my more sensitive parts without comprehending the violation of the act. But I am not human to them – just a dumb animal.
I open my eyes…spying myself in the metal wall beside myself.
Feline-human, a mixture of both, but the blend is done well. There is no awkward bulging, no tumors or deformities…the creature I see is graceful looking, slender…covered in bluish-lavender fur, except at the midriff and tail, where it darkens just slightly. My eyes…they are what I like the most. Deep crimson…a flaw in the genetic processing, but I like it. They are striking, wonderful…the color of the blood flooding my veins, of the scarlet of sunset. Will I get to see a true sunset now?
One of the laboratory assistants blocks the makeshift mirror…coming into my field of sight. Long red hair; black eyes; tan skin; dressed all in white. He stares at me for a moment, then kneels down, dabbing my wet face with a towel.An unnecessary act, the others say…he contends that I will be chilled, and lowering my immune system will do no good now that I'm exposed to outside agents. The vaccines and particles injected into the serum that had nourished me will only help so much.
He is a smart one – the leader's rebellious son.Silver…he…smiles.
Kindness.
"…Thank you."
It is hard to speak…but I do. It comes out soft, more of a mew than anything else, the words garbled…but the meaning is conveyed.
A flurry of activity…but the male remains.
"Welcome to reality, Judith."
Perhaps living is not so terrible….
Months pass. We should not be doing this.
By God, I knew that well enough…I am not worthy of this type of affection. I am amonster, and no matter how pure my soul might be, I would always be a monster. Love…intimacy…physicality…these are things longed for, but things I do not deserve. Yet here in the small room I'd been provided to sleep within, Silver, my only friend, mymaster, gives that to me. He dominated the act, just as he dominated the battles I fought for his sake. He was so cruel and cold at times…but I could not stand to be separated from him. Without him, there would only be the laboratories, the endless tests, the painful pricks of needles and the horrible stench of blood and peroxide. Already I bore scars from what they'd done to me…he stroked them quietly, forcing me to whimper.
Then…pain….
It was not that I did not feel craving…that I did not know lust. Iburnednow…but Nature wanted to keep reminding us that this was a feculent act. Despite that I was half-human…it hurt for him to come inside.
But I let him come anyway, even feeling my self bleed…and held him tighter, clutching him so he would only drive himself closer.
I didn't want to be alone. Ineverwanted to be alone…!
"Silver…."
It didn't last – it never lasted. My body jerked up into him…he left, and went away. He never stayed next to me afterwards. What was I to him really? He seemed to care, yet…what proof did he give, other than what he left inside of me? To myself, I laughed bitterly…how pathetic and foolish was I? There was no hope here.
My brain throbbed just as my heart, hurting,hurting….
"What have you done, Judith?"
The lead scientist looked down at me in utter revulsion and horror…at the blood across my body, my face. The headache was fading now, and I gazed around, looking at the scene I had made. The laboratory assistants lay slaughtered around me, their pokemon torn apart by my hands. I had gotten angry, distressed, sickened…then lost control.
But they hadabusedme! And Silver….
I had killed him last, giving him as much pain as he had given me. The relationship had been poisonous…I had never been able to get enough of him, and he had treated me with a disregard that had murdered my soul. My heart was gone now, at least that dreaming part of it. I was so weary, tired of the world, of living. It hurt too much….
"I don't know," I replied. It was the truth. Something was happening to me, something terrible…my head hurt…and I…Isawthings.
Visions. Hallucinations. Premonitions. Dreams.
With new understand, I gazed up at them all, upon the father whose son I had killed.
"Iam dying, aren't I?"
Internal organ degeneration…aneurisms…hemorrhaging….so that was why I had begun to vomit and cough up blood. That was why my brain hurt so terribly…why I'd felt so weak. I gleamed more insight, uncaring that they could feel my searching: they wouldsalvagewhat they could from this body of mine. This frail, sickly thing….
"No…not yet. Not yet."
I ran.
Again, months passed...and I had been tracked down, at last, by those seeking me.
The father stood behind me, a gun in his hands. I could smell thegunpowder, the acrid iron; see the glint of it in the grass. The soft, carpet of green grass. I entangled it in my fingers, three upon each hand, swished my tail through it – ittickled. I breathed in the scent of the air, filled with the fragrances of flora, of city smells, of sea-salt and brine. I dangled my feet off the edge of the cliff, savoring the last bit of the warmth from the sinking, golden sun. I felt the wind caress me, gently, lovingly, saying goodbye. The world, at least, if no one else would, would miss me…the shadow of life that had so loved the beauty and wonders of existence.
It didn't hurt anymore when the visions came – and as I watched them play in my numb, tortured mind, my heart swelled and ached…I wept openly, letting it be known that I too had a soul in the act. Me, thecreated.
"Tell me, do you believe in God?" I asked, but did not wait for an answer, "…I do, even though He condemns me for what I am…but it seems so strange to me: you humans have destroyed Him now by taking His powers…doesn't that bother you?"
I must sound insane now, but the man humored me, "All children eventually surpass their parents…this is no different. Now will you come along quietly, or not?"
I stood up slowly, shakily, watching the sunset…the bands of crimson, scarlet orange, gold, yellow, bronze. All fading into deep blue….
"It doesn't matter…."
The gun was leveled at my head…fear pooled within my despite the defiant peace I'd been building up inside of me for so long. For I did not want to die, despite how life hurt so.I wanted to live.I wanted….
I wanted to meethim. Holdhim. Seehim.Showhimhow much I cared.
"Please, do something for me…? Just one thing? Tell my son that I love him. Please, please…."
Even thoughhewould destroy them for their arrogance, for their uncaring souls, I begged for that ideal: that he wouldknowthat I'd cherished him - my Mewtwo, the child I would never meet. They would take from me as they had my own mother, use a part of me in the cloning process that would form him…so I would never come to know him…touchhim…embracehim…he would be soangryas I had been, tormented and distressed. Buthealthy. Blessedlyhealthy, unlikeme.
I love you….
The final seizure came…I collapsed on my knees, shaking, spitting up blood from my torn and bruised innards. Vaguely through the agony, I felt the cold gunmetal at my head, heard the trigger click, then-.
They took the traitor's body back to the labs,dissecting her once-beautiful form, and taking from her all that they needed. Samples of vital organ tissues, marrow, cerebrospinal fluid (so deadly high in pH), and so much more…and then they burned the rest, collecting the ashes and cataloging the carbon dust along with the other specimens from the prototype.
Judith was no more.
And years later, her son stood at the spot of her death…sensing all that had once been…and mourned the loss of a bond he might have known with her, just as she had done for him….
The dusk, a witness to the tragedy, remained bloody and unchanged…forever grieving with them.