Chapter 1: The Awakening

(AN: Hey! Troy here. Thanks for taking interest in my story. Note this is a rough first draft, so if you find any syntax/grammatical errors, please let me know. All feedback is appreciated. If you like what you read, give this story a follow and a rating. I will be updating regularly. Thanks!)

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Liam

"Trial 1726, Codename: Warhead. So far, the subject has taken our tests well. Signs of extreme durability are apparent, both internally and externally. Tissues are resistant to high thermal exposure, and at times, the skin will reflexively absorb heat energy and repel it as a defense mechanism. Limitations do not end with thermal sensitive receptors—subject exhibits chemical and electrical immunity as well. Systematic analysis of our full scope yields subjective results, studies revealing subject's emotions affect response time and reliability. These immeasurable variables may stunt our research…"

Her heavy Polish accent was like knives to my ears…

Bright lights in a whitewashed room looked like hazy starbursts burning inside my eyes. There were too many to count. It made this induced wooziness worse, my eyes darting to the camera standing on the right of the surgical table I was strapped down to. I took a hard rattled breath, barely registering the silhouettes of my company— one woman in a low red bun, and two tall men in bleach white coats, all of them covered head to toe. I had special names for them: the head bitch in charge, the hunched ass-kissing yes man, and the stocky nasally nose breather with a blood fetish. They had gas masks, visors, and a wheeled side table with their routine instruments of torture. It was about to get messy, and I wasn't ready for another round of reconditioning, my sole purpose here being a guinea pig to their inhumane experiments. I knew they were trying to break me, both inside and out. I'd lost track of the years I'd been trapped in this nightmare, enduring all of the traumatic mind-splitting trials to no foreseeable end.

Her hunched lackey geared me up, the next stage in this horror show from hell imminent. The gear looked like an upgraded torture mask with webs of wire coming out of the forehead plate, with the other end of those wires hooked in a biological machine. The inside of the mask had circuits running through it, prepared to register responses and signals on the monitor panel. Once I was strapped, I felt the true biomechanical hallmarks of this mask stretch around my face, its eight appendages wrapped tightly around my head on its own. I started to panic, my body shaking, my chest tight, and my blood firing. I gasped shallow quiet breaths while I looked at the head scientist bug-eyed, her focus glued to the monitor connected to those wires as the stocky lab rat fixed a chainsaw in his grip.

My body wouldn't wait for what came next. Immediately, I felt my core heat up, my heart rate sky rocketing. This response came on its own—I had no control over it. Yet, I enforced it, knowing the aftermath would set me free, and put these fuckers in their place!

But on cue, that wench would push the breaks on me…

"Please, the injection," the psycho ordered her puppet, the syringe from the metal prep table already loaded with that red liquid to shut me down. I was screaming behind that mask, my maddening muffled cries provoking them. Every time my chest started to heat up and glow, that bitch jabbed the needle in my arm to tame the nuke, my body shutting down immediately from the exposure.

It was like lullabying a baby to sleep, the fight in me gone before it even began…

"Introduction to our serum, Kato-evo3, continues to inhibit subject's most devastating ability: nuclear detonation," she said, breathing out a nervous sigh of relief. "Definite triggers remain inconclusive. Catalyst evolves throughout the bloodstream, branches through the extremities before the reaction compresses inside subject's chest cavity. Safety precautions are still in affect when subject refuses to stabilize, use of special engineered nerve agents contain the reaction." She paused briefly, recomposing herself after she cleared her throat. "Now that the subject has been incapacitated, we will continue the reconditioning process."

These tests were insatiable—they wouldn't stop. Every time those heavy metal doors opened, I knew what was next. And every time, I felt this reconditioning process inching closer and closer to truly breaking me. The sensations to their weapons—guns, blades, explosives, even thermal power as hot as the sun's surface—I was beginning to feel them all. They'd monitor my heart rate to confirm their findings, past the lies I'd programmed my stoic face to feed to them. No pain, no tears. The mental disciplining had been a tiring trial of its own. Sometimes I couldn't help but cave in, the idea of never leaving this place shattering me. And when the stocky one revved up the chainsaw again, I tightened my fist and protested.

"N-no." I said, barely able to croak. My body started to convulse, my adrenaline and anxiety stirring me awake. "NO!" I cried, pushing against my restraints with all of my might, my neck straining from the pressure.

"Super strength, one of your measurable factors. Also a trait we'd long learned to suppress. Please, keep still. We need to calculate how your cells cope under the reconditioning process, and adding more cortisol to the equation will only prolong your suffering."

"Fuck you!" I roared, seething. "When I get the hell out of here, I'll—"

"Empty threats, dear Warhead," she interjected, leaning into me, that cold smile on her bitter. "Be still, my love. You'll need to while we run more tests."

I gasped, looking over her shoulder to that fat gore-happy prick enthusiastically raising the chainsaw over his head.

"P-lease, stop this!" I begged, my demeanor making the quickest turn from rage to absolute fear. "Stop torturing me!" My voice shriveled. "W-why, w-wh-y are you doing this?"

"The product to these trials will soon shine its light. Greatness takes skill and commitment… delicate research and time..."

"Don't do this." I wailed, the sight of that power tool slicing into my bloody legs making my jaw clench tight, and my body cry out in agony… "PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!"

"Please, don't do this!" Rachel cried, snapping me out of my daydream. I gasped, looking down at the blond peach-faced teen and her theatrics in front of Charlie's Bakery. She continued banging her fists into the storefront glass, making a total scene. It'd take me a second to figure out what she was fussy about, the lights inside the shop out and the CLOSED sign staring back at us mockingly. "It's only two in the afternoon, why the heck are they closed?"

"Could be a Jewish holiday," I gave her a gentle smile as she fed me those pouty lips and puppy eyes, the bag of groceries her parents told us to fetch sitting in my cradling arms. "Don't worry. We can swing by Jimmy's instead."

"But Jimmy's don't have those delicious, mouthwatering strawberry turnovers I love!"

"But they have those strawberry-filled mini puff pastries that are just as good."

She flattened her eyes at me, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't you dare, Liam," she sassed. "Don't you dare compare the two!"

"Heh, well, it's not like we have a choice, do we?" I said with a just as cheeky voice. "Come on. I want to make it back in time for lunch. Marsha is making meatloaf again!"

"No, mom is making that for dinner," she corrected me as we continued walking. "What she's making for lunch are those nasty avocado and egg salad sandwiches."

"Great, also an all-time favorite!"

"Egh, that dedication to your weirdness never ceases to amaze me."

I chuckled, letting Rachel lead the way to Jimmy's. It was a sunny afternoon for September, with a light autumn breeze rolling in. The weather and mood was a complete contrast to when Rachel had first found me on the side of those dingy train tracks, along the outskirts of Roe City. It had been a dark winter, and till this day, I still couldn't remember how I managed to run into a group of teens drenched with mud, blood and grime, my body completely stark naked. Her three friends took off in a terrified hurry, but not Rachel. She wasn't afraid, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand what the hell had made her stay that night.

I had ten seconds to convince her that I wasn't there to harm her, ten seconds I wouldn't need. Because right away, I could tell she had wanted to help me, driving us both to her house after she stuffed me in her small bubble jacket. The ride back to her home had been a blur, but her mother's reaction was imprinted in my head like a hard memory I couldn't forget. She had tossed all types of kitchen warfare at me, Rachel having had stopped her from calling the cops. I didn't blame her; a sketchy looking, six foot plus, dirty brown-haired stranger had just waltzed into her front door at the dead of night with her teenage daughter.

It was safe to say that her parents hadn't approved, but she found ways to keep me close; in the garage, in the tool shed, sneaking me periodically in and out of the house to go to the crapper. The months it took for them to finally accept me had been worth it, and now Marsha and Jeremy saw me like the… ehem… boyfriend their daughter never had.

Damn, those three years went by fast, hadn't they?

While Rachel and her parents were enthusiastic about us being a couple, I never confirmed it. Not that Rachel wasn't my type; she was gorgeous. I just didn't feel suitable to date anyone. At least, not right now. Getting too close to someone had always been something I was against, and I didn't want to hurt anyone by accident, especially not Rachel…

Every day, I'd ask myself why hadn't I left yet, and every day, I'd choose my own selfish needs over her safety. I wanted to feel like I was part of something, part of someone. I saw Rachel like family I never had. And if I did, I couldn't say that I remembered being anywhere but with the Henderson's. The memories of my younger years were construed, where only suppressed visions like those I had a few minutes ago would knock on my head. They reminded me of what I had gone through for easily over a decade, making me feel less human. All I cared about now was the present, and how I had the greatest life after Rachel brought me in.

Welcoming a complete stranger into her home…

Words couldn't express how grateful I was for her…

Honestly, I might have been the biggest hypocrite I knew. I was already attached, emotionally invested. It was why I hadn't found it in me to leave and ditch her every chance I had.

My face stretched into an appreciative smile as I watched her strut down the busy streets of downtown Roe City, humming her tune with her hands in her pockets. I matched her speed, walking alongside her now, with an offer she couldn't refuse. "Hey, how about when you're in school tomorrow, I swing by Charlie's and get you some of those turnovers? My treat."

She grinned ear-to-ear, that sly look on her face smiling at me. "I'm getting the feeling of déjà vu," she replied. "Because the last time you said something along those lines, you came back with an empty brown bag filled with flakes and heartache."

I chuckled. "Okay, you gotta' cut me some slack. They pulled it fresh outta the oven. The aroma was killing me!"

"All I hear are excuses," she teased, pushing her bangs behind her ear, giving me a side cutesy look. "Maybe I should make you go out there and get me some sweets, for being so sour with me." She slipped her hand around my elbow, pinning us at the hip as we walked.

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"Eh, sour?"

"Or difficult. Whatever word floats your boat."

Heh, what she was talking about finally clicked. I felt terrible for turning her down over a dozen times already, in all of her subtle hints and notes. Her body language asked the question before she did, and I guess she already read the answer off my face when I gave her that defeated chuckle.

"I'm tired of not putting a label on it," she said, looking up to me hopelessly. "Liam?"

"Rachel, you know I hate telling you no."

"Then don't! The age thing doesn't matter! It doesn't bother me, why does it bother you?"

"It's… not that," I said, second guessing myself. Well, Rachel was nineteen, and I was twenty-nine, but she was an adult, regardless of the huge age gap. Like I said, I didn't think Rachel was unattractive. Honestly, she was a bombshell, a real catch for anyone lucky enough to court her: long silky blond hair, gentle brown eyes, and a slender frame for her petite height. It'd just break me if I got her hurt…

It was one of the reasons why I never liked sleeping in the house…

I rather hurt her emotionally than physically. Of course, I couldn't expect her to understand where I was coming from. I hadn't told her who I was, or what I was.

I answered her sad face with unsettling silence. I was speechless and didn't have it in me to reject her again. She stopped trying, and like always, Rachel would wipe that solemn look on her face and pretend like she didn't secretly hate my guts.

I sighed, clenching the grocery bags in my hands. "Rachel, I'm sorry…"

"No, it's fine."

"No, it's not," I grunted, temporarily breaking our stride to look at her seriously. "I'm not brushing you off on purpose. Honest. I have a reason for it, and one day, I promise, I'll… tell you everything. I'm just not ready yet. And trust me, I don't think you're ready for it either."

"Liam—"

"Once I tell you, everything else will start to make sense. I have to take care of something inside me first, and do it the right way, for the both of us… I don't want to fuck up and regret it." I cradled her face, stroking my thumb over her soft cheek, that radiant smile on her making its debut.

I was playing a dangerous game by falling for her, and I'd have no one to blame but myself if this came back to bite me in the ass. It felt like time was something I didn't have, and I'd be lying to myself if I said I had the slightest idea on how to fix this bomb inside of me.

"Don't sweat it Liam. I'm not mad," she said, continuing her walk as I followed her. "Because today, Dracier Bio-Tech will be announcing their greatest bio-engineering discovery to America! The Awakening!" she delightfully beamed, curving the topic as she stretched her arms out happily. "And it's going to be broadcasted right here in Watch Square!"

I looked up to all of those towering flat screens filled with ads and movie trailers and thought to myself that this Awakening wasn't just a big deal for Rachel, but for everyone. Watch Square had always been packed, but it wasn't until she reminded me of the big news in a few minutes did I catch the overly congested streets—almost as packed as their traditional New Year's Eve celebration. All around us stood people waiting to watch, their heads up high, their cell phones eagerly counting down the time for the revolutionary announcement. It'd been on Marsha's kitchen calendar, and I couldn't believe I'd seriously forgotten about it.

"Oh, just two more minutes now," Rachel said.

"Crazy how no one has even the slightest idea what this is all about," I said.

"All of this mystery isn't going to be for nothing. I could just feel it! They said they've been researching this project for almost two decades!" Rachel exclaimed, stopping her steps just along the street curve. Between William's Street and Butcher Boulevard we waited, the most anticipated scientific breakthrough known to man seconds away from being televised.

The time drew near, and for a moment it felt like the entire world stopped moving. Everyone broke what they were doing to stare at the massive overhead building screens, the intro to CBS News reflecting in my marveled eyes. I had to admit, Rachel got me excited, the bubbly blond wrapping her arm around mine, the busy city anxiously waiting in silence.

And then, static…

Wait, static?

"Huh? What happened?" Rachel said, lifting her head off my arm.

Well, that was very anti-climactic.

We looked at each other confused, whispers throughout the crowd flooding the streets. No one had a clue, all the screens turning black seconds after the static scratched my ears.

"What a load of bull!" Rachel protested. "First Charlie's, now this! Disappointment rounds all over."

I heard what she was saying, but something about this didn't feel right. The confused look on my face retired for anxiety as this looming feeling hovered over my head. I couldn't put any two words to it, but whatever this eeriness was had the hairs on the back of my neck standing straight. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath, as if I were bracing myself for impact. And then the air grew foggy, and everyone was pointing up at the black speck closing in on us from the sky.

We didn't have a second to process anything. Before the chaos and calamity could strike, a bright blinding light flickered over our heads, swallowing the entire square in a blinding white sheet in the sky. Clouds spread, the sun disappeared, and a roaring blast like a thunderclap exploded mid-air.

The flash moment there after was a suppressed and faded blur…

The detonation forced my body to move. I dropped the grocery bag and leaped into Rachel, shielding her body with mine before the air pressure dropped us both on the pavement. I felt crushed by the weight of the blast, waves of infrared and ultraviolet light stripping through my back and heating my skin. Something told me it could have been much worse, because this wasn't an ordinary nuke that had just dropped into Watch Square…

Everyone and everything felt the rage of the blast, Roe City being knocked off its base in an instant. The air down my lungs was being sucked in by the vacuum this doomsday blast had caused, while I tried to shield my face from the debris and gust of dust fighting to bury me in ruble. The winds sliced through me, buildings stripped, people caught in the violet sweep of a hot roiling smoke. And then the true face of the blast made its appearance, the thick smell of fumes coating the scene in cryptic red…

Shit, this was biological warfare, set to destroy the very people of Roe City…

I tried not to inhale the fumes, but it'd already been too late. Maybe I could save Rachel, hacking up the smoke while stripping my jacket to give it to her. But when I looked down, she was gone, the sidewalk looking back at me in a hazy fog.

"R-Rachel?" I flung on my feet, my eyes anxiously looking for her in the dense fog and heat. "RACHEL!" I cried, my heart racing, my adrenaline bringing out the worst in me. Shit, I couldn't panic, not now, even if the scene around me looked like the world was ending. People were frantically running around, bloodcurdling cries of pain and fear knocking my head. The devastation was on another level, my eyes growing wide to the chaos that dropped on us in a matter of seconds.

But that wasn't the worst part of it…

I witnessed change on a biological and chemical level, the likes of which I'd never seen before. Those who'd died from the impact may have been the luckier ones, women and men alike morphing and contorting into inhuman mutations—growing extra body parts, others with missing limbs in place of monstrous and animalistic features. Some looked even less human than that. My breath shuttered, blood, soot, and deprivation clinging to me like a second skin. I was horrified but couldn't peel my terrified eyes away, watching the suffering of Roe City's people through a hopeless lens.

The desolate scene went spiraling in my head. Not once did I ask myself how the hell I made it out of this unscathed. I guess deep down I had an idea, something my subconscious mind refused to accept. I slugged down the path that grew dark with the stain of Dracier Bio-Tech's sin, because this couldn't have been one big coincidence.

Revolutionary, mind-blowing, the awakening of mankind as we knew it.

No matter how hard I tried to tell myself that I was just going through one of my routine nightmares, I couldn't convince myself with how real everything around me felt…

"Rachel!" I shouted again, over a dozen times over. Until my voice was gone, and my will to continue escaped my tired bones. It must have been the chemical in the air that forced its way through my lungs, finally taking its toll on me. I still fought through the sluggish feeling running its course, while the gruesome scene had me pinned up against the wall. People were lit up in flames, others melting in their own acidic ooze, some even jumping off buildings and cars—it looked like a stunt show from hell. And soon, it'd be too much for my mind to take, and I'd finally drop on my knees, before my face hit the floor, my body collapsing unconsciously.

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