10 September 2012
Christian leaned back in the swing and smiled up at his mother, who continued to push him, her auburn hair flying with her carefree movements.
'Christian? Christian, can you hear me?'
Christian was seven, and was holding his father's hand as they crossed the road. 'Daddy?' 'Yes, son?' 'I love you.' 'I love you, too, son.'
'Christian, if you can hear us, open your eyes. Open them now.'
A warm summer sun beat down on an eleven year old Christian as he kissed his best friend, Charlotte, on the lips for the first time. All shy smiles, and childish giggles. Summer was meant for fun.
'Sir, I think he's gone. The dose was too high - the next subject will have to be tested with more precision and care.'
Blinking lights; flashing lights. Car horns and screaming car breaks. Red smears down pale, pale skin. Bones hooked out at abnormal angles.
'We have a pulse. Sir! We have a pulse!'
Christian watched as medics shook their heads in silence over the bodies of his parents. Watched as they were wheeled away to the morgue, weeks later.
'Christian, open your eyes.'
Christian felt nothing. His parents and life were but whispers in a long-gone wind.
'Christian... Ah, welcome back, Christian. I trust your rest has been... Replenishing.' Christian opened his eyes. He felt fresh, energised, even. 'I feel... Fantastic.' He raised an arm. Attached to it were several patches, which he ripped off without hesitance. 'Uh, Christian, you shouldn't do that... Please stay seated.' Christian stood, however, and took note of his surroundings. There were people in white lab coats everywhere. The beeps and wails of machinery and equipment filtered through the soft lull of conversation. 'Where am I?' Christian felt a little confused. The two labcoated men before him exchanged a glance. 'Christian, you're at Stone Laboratories. Remember? You volunteered yourself to our unique interest in science?' Christian looked down at himself, his skin was pale. Paler than it had ever been. Arching out behind him were two enormous feathered monstrosities. 'What-?' Christian stumbled back onto the bed. He had wings. Large, black, sleek wings.
Christian knew now that his parents were gone, he couldn't face normal life. 'Stone Laboratories'. It was the name on the white business card he'd been given, by a woman in large sunglasses and a business suit. He slid his mobile phone from his pocket and dialled a number. 'This is Christian Frame. When do I start?'
A New Life. • Opuss № I