Created (Book 1 of the Created) (5 page)

The chatter of argument and dissension died. The solitary
footsteps of a lone walker could be heard moving away from the hospital bed.
The clank of the handle of the chamber door could be heard as someone forced it
violently open. The audible hiss was missing, yet the effect was the same with
the slamming of the large metal door; the room was filled with dread.

My earlier sleepiness was gone.

The noise from the machines in the room had faded to
silence. It seemed fitting. Both man and machine awaiting the next phase
patiently, but it was driving me insane.

My brain was frantic as thoughts of my demise flew wildly. I
knew focus was needed if I was going to survive. There had to be hope, there
had to be a way out. I concentrated hard trying to force my arms and legs to
become active participants and not casual observers in this dilemma.
Nothing.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
Damn.

In the corner of my eye, I could see mass movement from the
Constructs, including yellow eye who was steadily approaching in a simple,
feminine gaunt accented by the sound of the scraping of her slipper covered
feet a across the textured concrete. I could not look away from the eyes.

They were haunting. The glossy sheen made the eyes seem less
than lifeless. Behind them was possibly a hint, a very small bit, of kindness.
Framed by the light blue surgical mask, the brightness was another matter. Wait
something isn’t right. Why was she wearing a mask? She was dead. Was the mask
to protect her or me? Maybe the process disfigured her? The small distraction
lasted only moments as her eyes beckoned me to stare deeply.

The yellow eyes were bordering on being garish I realized. A
thought caught me curious. I wish I had asked about the eye color. How did
being reborn as a member of the undead give you to flashy, yellow eyes? Would
mine be yellow?

I felt her cold undead hand on my arm as she checked the
connection to the IV. Knowing she was once a person was maddening, but I had
other troubles to worry about. I had to find a way to move before this group of
mad men killed me or made me their pet.

In the back of my mind, I knew I was too late. I had been
unable to free myself when I could still move so what right did I have to think
that I could escape while paralyzed. Was it the fear? Was being so close to
dying bringing out the courage that had lain dormant the entire trip?

WHAT?! What just happened?! Oh, shit! I was dead. A quick
cut of my eyes presented me with
Dencourt
withdrawing
a heavy gauge needle from my arm; he had officially begun the experiment.
 

He smiled as he quickly placed the spent apparatus into the
open palm of a member of the medical staff, another attractive female Construct
with strawberry blonde hair and the same yellow eyes framed by her mask.

This one was more buxom in appearance than the others.
Unquestioning or needing any further instruction, she proceeded to shuffle away
from the Director. As she passed, I heard one of the men exclaim, "Look at
the ass on that one."

The statement was soon followed by a smack of a hand against
the thin material of the hospital scrubs the blonde was wearing. A cackle of laughter
was emitted by the cluster of men. The sound of the shuffle of her feet did not
slow nor speed up; it was steady; unperturbed by the caustic action of the man.

My attention soon returned to my own precarious situation. I
felt nothing.
Dencourt
had explained to the onlookers
the transformation was unbearable, yet I felt the same, aside from being
grossly more scared than I was previous to the injection if that was possible.

Dencourt
stood over me. He smelled
of a combination of citrusy cologne and cigar smoke with an underlying hint of
lime. The odor was calming; his goal was not. His gaze did not waver. There was
intensity in his eyes that I had never experienced. He was studying me. What
was he looking for?

There was still no conversation in the room. Everyone
waited. The men drew closer now. I could tell by the heavy, labored breathing
of two of the heavier men they drew nearer still.

I averted my eyes from
Dencourt
. I
looked to yellow eye for comfort, but she was as emotionally absent as an
antique doll. Her hand slipped from my arm as she took her position alongside
the other staffers who had since dispensed of their duties and were now
standing at the ready.

Mr.
Dencourt
spoke firmly, "I
see the change is beginning to happen. Come closer gentlemen and see the next
evolution of our product line. This is the future we are building."

Reluctantly, the men lined the edges of my bed on both
sides.

What change?! Nothing was happening. Nothing, I wanted to
scream into the man's face that his truth was different. But suddenly I felt
something.
A small tingle then a twinge.
It WAS
beginning. My skin was now tingling in long narrow stretches down the front of
my legs along my thighs. Both of my eyes itched in one location for seconds
then the itching would move to another spot. The events were minor, but
worrisome.

Dencourt
searched the skin around
my eyes, spreading and pulling, then turned my head from one side to another,
beginning the hunt anew. "The nanites are distributing the virus. You can
see traces of the progress in the eyes first."

He held my left eye open as he stepped back to show the men
standing beside him what he was talking about then rotated my head repeating
the procedure for the opposite side.

The itching was worsening as was the numbness. I wanted to
rub my eyes in the worst way. The numbness was more of the concern. The
sensation was creeping toward my toes. I could feel only two per foot for the
past two minutes though even now the lone toe on my right foot that had been
the hold out was beginning to tingle. It would not be long before the other toe
would also follow. The tingling would begin then the numbness then the empty,
hollow feeling that was left.

I wanted to cry.

The men continued to watch.

I tried to close my eyes. The paralytic drug would not even
allow the trivial to occur. Finally, the tingling abated. If I could sighed in
relief I would have, but I felt extremely disconnected from my body. Only
seconds passed until a different feeling emerged - a piercing pain underneath
my ribs. I hoped, prayed, my body would animate the action of sitting up with
the hopes the pain would subside. Instead, my body lay motionless, deceiving
me, and deceiving the onlookers.

"Watch his chest!" A decorated Marine colonel
shouted.

The group leaned forward as one entity to get a better view
as my ribs started growing under my skin. The pain was unimaginable. If I could
have screamed once I would have never stopped.
Dencourt
had been right. He had been right about it all.

He pointed out what was happening. "The bones here are
widening to alleviate the gaps between each one to make the ribs provide better
protection for the heart." He pointed to both sides of my rib cage. "Notice
the subtleness of the skin changing texture to make him more efficient."
Dencourt
felt of the exposed flesh of my stomach.

"Beautiful, just beautiful," he whispered quietly
as I passed out from a sudden burst deep of intolerable pain deep within.

"Where am I?" I wondered aloud.

My head was pounding. I was hoping it was a side effect of
being targeted as a lab rat by a maniac. Running my hand over my head, a deep
breath was drawn. Something did not feel right. Maybe it was the compressed
positioning of being on my stomach or the lingering after effects of my ribs
being remade, but I felt as if someone was trying to rip me apart. I tried to
roll over which was unbearably painful, but at least I could move and I was
free from being bound to the bed.

Eyes opened, I was alarmed to find I was blind. Lying still,
I waited to see if the condition was a permanent side effect of the experiment.
Creeping, the edges of my field of vision turned from black to charcoal gray
then a little less gray. It seemed my vision was feeling a temporary effect.
The restoration to normal, if there was to ever be such a thing as normal,
would be a slow process I surmised. Happy to be alive and unsure of my
surroundings, I lay on my back surrounded by a scattering darkness on a softly
textured squishy, mat that had the consistency of a shag carpet as I ran my
hands across its surface.

I seemed reasonably safe at the moment. My memory was fried.
Items from mere seconds ago disappeared and others bounced away before I could
capture them. Unsure of where, and afraid, I tried to remember anything about
myself. It dawned on me quickly that I didn’t even know who I was.

Terror set in as I fought to focus long enough to attempt to
remember my own name. The terror was brief as a new need developed; hunger. I
had to find food. I needed food. Rational thoughts were being shoved aside by
desire for my next meal. The hunger was accompanied by searing pain in my
abdomen that radiated outward. Once tiny, it grew infinitesimally until the
pain and the need was one.

My throat received the brunt of the burn. Swallowing was
pointless, it only continued to burn.

I needed to find a way to extinguish the hunger. The hunger
pushed into my mouth and developed in a thirst. A red hot need to find
nourishment overtook me. All I could think about was finding a cure for the
ache. My mind was consumed by a single desire until I heard the crunch of what
sounded like a dead leaf being trampled underfoot.

The night sky was coming into view above me as well as the
trees swaying in the evening breeze. Shadows were abundant before my eyes, but
the pieces fit together. The sound could have been anything. I remembered that
the night was full of sights and sounds though the night before me was not fully
developed enough to see. I remembered enough of survival instinct to know the
sound could have been a variety of animals or the wind.

Relax, I told myself.
Crunch.

My heart began to race. Maybe it was something to eat, my
mind reasoned. I fought back the thoughts. I had to find safety, I told myself.
I had to find safety until my vision was restored and I could figure out what
the hell was going on. Especially why I could not remember my name or why I was
in the woods. With every thought of safety, my mind yelled about hunger.

Inexplicably my body seemed possessed as my senses kicked
into overdrive. My nose was rapturously presented with a banquet of odors, one
of which smelled highly of musk. The musk contained traces of something
familiar. Unsure of what to do, I lay still.

My hands loved the sensation of the bed I was on. I knew it
was moss now that I had a moment to reflect, but still no luck with my own
name. It was frustrating.

The musk drew nearer. More smells became pungent though one
dominated my sinuses, sending them pulsing. The other scent was so strong, so
close. I just couldn't put my finger on the odor until I heard the rapid,
pulsing sniffing. A loud throaty grunt erupted. The deep snarl resembled that
of a creature curious about a new unwanted item in its environment or a noise
of excitement that found food lain out before it. I realized I knew the smell
now, the smell was wet dog.

The canine was close. My senses were telling me the animal
was approaching slowly, but the direction was undeterminable. Was the creature
circling? I eased to a sitting position cautious the beast would be provoked.

My vision was spotty at best. The background of the forest
outlined by the blue rays of the moon was clearly defined though the most I
could determine were shapes with auras. Finer details were another issue,
especially in the darker recesses where the moonlight could not penetrate
through the tall pine trees above. The animal that was stalking me appeared
more mirage than real as it darted between the dark and the light.

Heavy panting had replaced the growls. The dog was unsure what
to do. It continued the approach. Instinct told me I was being sized up.
Closer, the animal pushed.

The quiet of the woods amplified the displacement of ground
clutter by the canine as it began to trace an ever narrowing loop around me.

My eye sight was restored fully with a bright flash. The
blinding light faded as fast as it appeared aside from a few orbs of a golden
hue streaking across my eyes. The darkness of night, even without the
moonlight, was as easy to see through as if it had been morning. The world
seemed so new, fresh. The colors were alive, but I did not have the time to
enjoy the wonderful world exploding before my eyes because I had an animal
stalking me.

Still seated, I spun on my seat of velvety moss to face my
attacker. Instantly I was horror stricken at what was standing before my eyes.
Even in my confused state I knew what I was seeing wasn't possible.

There before me was a slobbering, teeth bared, black gummed,
gray wolf within twenty feet of my former make shift bed where I was seated.
The impossibility was not the wolf. The impossibility was the fact the wolf at
the front shoulder was well over six foot tall. The head was as wide as my
chest, the fangs both top and bottom were six inches at the least with a
diameter bigger than the pinky finger on my hand.

I was scared and internally a tide of emotional shift was
occurring. I was on the verge of panic as the animal stared at me with huge,
black eyes. The head was low toward the ground as the wolf paced from left to
right then back along an identical path.

I chose to stand to face my demise. I was fearful, yet I
felt empowered. Was I powerful enough to die as a man was the question? I rose
from my seat, bracing myself against a sudden rush. The attack was imminent as
the beast crouched to spring towards me if I made a wrong move. I knew a single
bite from the overly large wolf would be fatal to my small body, but at least
the end would be swift.