Curious, I walked to his large table.
I glanced at the nearest file folder and saw a number on it. I opened it to find that it was the file for an experiment. I glanced over the information before looking at the next file, which was for another experiment. One of the books was turned to a page about Thomas Ankell’s diplomacy when he came into power, another was turned to a page on the proteins of the human body. There were five or six files opened to different areas of experiments’ testing and, as I looked through them, I came across one file with a large red stamp on it that read “TO BE TAKEN OFF RECORD,” laying over what appeared to be a journal. Curiously, I picked up the journal and glanced at the cover before opening the first page to see the name written inside.
Scrawled in nearly-illegible cursive at the bottom of the inside cover was the name Bryant J. Morris.
I turned to the off-record file and opened it. What I saw almost made me collapse to the ground in surprise.
Subject #41141
Testing Start: October 8
Presiding: Dr. Sam Pullman
*The Commission of the People maintains the right to bring in all individuals who threaten the peace and security of the nation of America. Individuals residing illegally or harboring individuals who are in violation of the laws set by the Cabinet of the Leader will be brought into the Commission of the People. (The Code of the Commission of the People: 13-9).
Accounts for Charge:
-Harboring Illegal Residents
-Harboring Individuals Deemed Dangerous
-Assisting Criminals
-Anarchist Activities
-Risking the Safety and Security of the Nation of America
-Sedition
Name: William Kaden Sandover
William Kaden Sandover.
Experiment 41141.
My uncle. My uncle had been the experiment that killed Bryant Morris—his favorite experiment.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was a stupid idea to take the file, but I felt compelled. I had to learn more about my uncle—the man who had killed Bryant Morris. I knew it was best not to know what had happened, what horrible experiments they ran, but I needed to know why he was Bryant Morris’ favorite. I felt that if I knew what had been so fascinating about him, I could understand what Dana found so interesting in Eyna—and me.
I did not tell Clark or even Mykail that I had taken the file, and for the rest of the afternoon and evening, I was too terrified to open it. When I got home, I took it out of my backpack and put it under my mattress, though all I could do was think about the file, wondering about its contents.
I went to talk to Mykail that night, though we kept our distance from one another again.
“Mykail…” I said slowly after we had spoken mundanely about my day. “Do you think Dana was an experiment by choice?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I sighed and lowered my head. “He said that he spent some time on the table, off-record, to see what would happen. Do you think he really opted to be an experiment in some way?”
“As far as I know, Dana’s been there for forever,” Mykail said. “Of course, there were always rumors among the experiments about where he came from. I wasn’t around when Bryant Morris ran the Commission, but one or two of the experiments I knew had been around since the year before Bryant Morris died, and they always had theories about where Dana came from.”
“What were they?”
“Well, none of them were true, I’m sure,” Mykail laughed. “Some of them were really out there…”
“Just tell me,” I chuckled.
“One of them was that Dana was Mr. Morris’ bastard son from one of the experiments,” Mykail said skeptically with a smile.
“Can’t rule it out.” I shrugged. “He’s crazy enough to be, and he did say he worked under Mr. Morris at a young age.”
“There was another rumor that he was taken into the Commission when he was a child and Mr. Morris adopted him to be his son and taught him about the Commission so he could take over when Mr. Morris died.” Mykail sighed and his eyebrows went high. “Of course, there were the rumors that he was an alien, or even the devil incarnate on earth…”
“Still not ruling that out,” I chuckled. I looked at his bedspread and picked at some of the lint, thinking carefully about how to ask my next question. “…did…did the other experiments, the older ones, ever say anything about Mr. Morris’ favorite experiment? The one that killed him?”
Mykail went quiet, his eyes wide. I blinked at him, surprised by his reaction.
“Four-eleven forty-one is a myth.”
I was shocked to hear that, particularly since I had the file hidden under my mattress. I had thought about telling him about the folder until I saw his reaction.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because there is no way he could have existed. He’s a bedtime story the older experiments tell the younger ones to make them think that they can be strong like him. But…everyone breaks on the table, Lily. Everyone.”
“I don’t understand…”
“He’s the superhero of the experiments, the fictional character that everyone wants to be. No test worked on him, he was immune. He never changed, he just got angrier, and stronger, and then he killed Mr. Morris and liberated the experiments…it’s obviously not true.”
“You don’t believe he was real?”
“No,” Mykail said. “None of the older experiments ever recall seeing him. Mr. Morris died of a stroke, not by an experiment.”
“Dana said he was killed by this experiment,” I said, challenging him.
“Dana isn’t a very reliable source,” he chuckled. “Like I said, there is only so much the human body can take. Everyone breaks, eventually. If the tests didn’t do what they were supposed to do, then the tests would kill him, plain and simple.”
We switched subjects, talking about the records room and how I would discuss with Clark tomorrow when we could start researching the experiments. Mykail had been worried about the notes leading us further away from our goal, or even into a trap, but when he heard about the way we could sneak into the records room undetected and the meeting spots that had been pointed out, he started to feel that the mysterious note-giver truly wanted to help.
“Lily, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Mykail said, taking my hand. I was worried and confused by his tone. “I’ve been thinking a lot about last Sunday…”
I blushed, turning away, not wanting to tell him how much I had been thinking about that night as well.
“I want to go outside. But…as long as the tracers are under my skin, I can’t,” he said. “You said that Dana was coming on Thursday for my shots. Soon after that, I want to take out my tracers.”
“What?”
“I know where they are and, if we’re careful, we could remove them,” Mykail said with a confident nod.
“Are you crazy?” I gasped, my brain spiraling out of control as I thought about all the things that could go wrong, particularly with my inability to handle being near sharp objects. “I can’t.”
“I can take out the ones in my ankles, and maybe the one in my left wrist…but the ones in my wings…I can’t take those ones out on my own,” he shook his head. “If we’re going to be working against Dana, we’re going to need to remove everyone’s chips when we break them out. I’m going to have to be one of those experiments.”
“But…Mykail, I can’t…” I hissed. “I…”
He squeezed my hand.
“I know it will be tough for you, but we need to do this…and I’m going to need to take yours out as well, to be sure that we won’t be noticed when this starts moving quickly.”
My stomach turned and I closed my eyes.
“I don’t want to hear this,” I said rapidly, my words mixing into one blurred sound.
“Lily,” he said gently, “I’m not telling you that we have to do it tonight. We will have to remove mine tactfully, so that y
our parents don’t see the wounds.”
“How do you even plan to?”
“All I need is a small knife, tweezers, alcohol, and bandages,” he said. “The tracers are not set deep, it doesn’t take much and I’ll heal quickly.”
“Oh, God, I can’t…” I shook my head, trying to keep my stomach from turning at the consideration of slicing into his flawless skin.
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll stop talking about it, but I wanted to tell you now, because I will need help. You can prepare yourself however you want.”
I could not think about it at all—I didn’t care how necessary it was. But my anxiety slowly melted away when Mykail placed a hand on my hair, trying to ease me. His hand was so warm and soft and it made me melt every time he touched me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispered. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to my forehead. Even though the action was gentle and tender, it rekindled that fire within me that quickly turned into a raging bonfire. I shivered and let out a shaky breath as he pulled away.
“I…I should go…” I said weakly.
“Probably wise.”
“Mykail?” I asked before I turned away. “When are we going to be able to control this thing between us?” Mykail stared at me for a moment before he asked quietly,
“Do you want to?”
“No, but I miss falling asleep in your arms,” I admitted quietly, embarrassed at how cheesy I sounded.
“I miss it, too.” He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks. “But…I don’t believe I can handle that again quite yet,” he murmured. “Maybe in a few days…”
“Okay,” I agreed, content with the answer for the time-being.
* *** *
I was in a grey room, looking at my chalky, pale skin in the mirror. My eyes were dark, surrounded by black circles, the cracked, dry skin of my face making me look inches from death. My hair was matted and dirty, hanging limply around my cheeks.
I was hideous, sick, worn down by life, tired…
I started to cry at my hideous reflection, in so much pain I wanted to break in half. I closed my eyes and felt water run down my cheeks. I looked back into the mirror, seeing my black tears roll down my face from my dark, exhausted eyes.
I didn’t want this…I wanted more…
I closed my eyes again, willing the image in the mirror to change. I opened my eyes, but I was still sick, tired, the cracks in my skin even bigger, my skin peeling off of my body to reveal worn bone.
I closed my eyes again. Opened them again. No change.
I took a deep breath, feeling the oxygen reach a deeper part of me than ever before, unlocking something in my diaphragm that stretched through my body, warm, powerful, and encompassing. I sighed as the feeling washed over me, my eyes sliding shut again. I felt it slowly coil around each rib, moving up my ribcage like ivy, tracing patterns over bone and flesh as it spread, the blouse I was wearing interrupted the flow of the heat. Groaning in frustration, I undid the buttons on the constricting clothing, allowing my skin to breathe and the heat to move through me once again, wrapping my lungs in a protective cocoon.
I opened my eyes.
My skin was peeling off my face, the dark circles under my eyes still present, but the color of my eyes was very different—gold, vibrant, full of power that I felt reflected back on myself. I was completely in control and yet under the spell of the vibrant color.
I felt my breathing quicken looking at that amazing color in the mirror. I touched the dark bag under my eye, trying to get a closer look at my irises when the skin flaked away at my touch, falling into the sink I was leaning over, filling the porcelain with dull grey liquid as I moved my fingers over my cheekbone. Yellow warmth started at my cheek, moving down my jaw and into my neck as the skin flaked away and the soft, smooth skin of perfection surfaced under the grey. I moved my fingers over my face, peeling the dead away, watching the grey in the sink get darker and darker with the impurities that had made me so sick and tired. My skin turned vibrant, nearly glowing, my eyelashes long and soft and my lips turning healthily red. I parted my lips to see my white teeth, barely parted, begging to bite into something.
The warmth that had spread through my body was curling around to my back, pulling me closer to the mirror, embracing me as I shed my grey.
I reached up with both hands to my hairline, pressing my hands to my temples and pulling my hair away from my face. The hair with the texture of straw fell away, crumbling at my touch as soft, full curls, shiny and delicate, took over, framing my face as the grungy hair I had been unable to care for any longer fell to the ground.
I was beautiful, powerful, and no one would stand in my way.
The gentle touch of fingers on my cheek caused me to close my eyes and my lips to part in a contented sigh. The fingers moved down my cheek to my nape, wrapping around my frail neck securely. He was in control, and I willingly succumbed. I rolled my head back and found his shoulder as he stood behind me, strong and steady…
His hand moved from my neck to the side of my head and he pushed me upright, turning my face to the mirror again.
I opened my eyes and looked at the two of us. I matched his eyes perfectly, and his beautiful face was so perfect that I continued to look as he stared at me. There was communication. There was understanding. He was training me to be perfect, to be what I needed to be. His hand on my head steadied me, making me stare into my reflection, seeing the creature reflected back, beautiful, raw, so full of life and desire that I wanted to fall into her spell.
He was my master, and he was showing me what lay ahead.
His hands went to my shoulders, sliding under the blouse and pushing it from my shoulders to fall with the grey skin that had cocooned this creature for too long. She had been wrapped in illness and banality for too long and it was time for her to unleash her power on the world, to shed the skin of society and show her truest form.
He was looking at the two of us in the mirror and how perfect we matched one another. We were not two people with similar needs and powers. We were one creature, moving as one entity in two vessels, at our most powerful when we were together, silent, communicating in a way that never required words.
We were the completed beast.
His head dropped to my neck as we stared at our reflection, reveling in the power we possessed. We would unleash it on the world, of course, but for the moment, we needed to revel in it, to feel that warmth encompass both of us in a tender embrace. That embrace was not of comfort, nor peace, it was power in its purest, raw form, sparking around the edges and causing every hair to stand on end. It was electric.
Nothing could touch us. We were above it all, on a higher level where peace was not something to strive for. Peace could not compare to the feeling. It was beyond comprehension, beyond the need for comprehension. It simply was.
My hand moved upward to his face, slow, staring at our reflection as I pressed my hand to the curve of his warm cheek. The touch caused me to feel a sensation that made me want to moan, but the feeling was too overpowering to make any noise in reaction. The coiling ivy of heat sparked at my fingertips and wrapped around my arm, traveling veins and transferring at nerve endings with golden power that I could see radiating off my unveiled skin.
His hand moved to my cheek as well, and the spark started at his fingers, traveling his veins as I watched our collective energy sync together, spiraling, circling, creating something bigger, more powerful, hotter and brighter than the sun, growing with every heartbeat…
I woke with a start, my eyes shooting open, my heart racing. My brain took several seconds to catch up and realize that what had happened was nothing more than an extremely vivid dream.
Or nightmare.
I sat up and ran my hand through my hair, closing my eyes again and sighing heavily. I knew I should put some thought to the dream, but I did not want to analyze it.
Dex, who had been disturbed by my sudden jump to consciousness, rubbed
against my knee, rolling onto his side. I smiled and picked him up, pulling him close and hugging him as he purred against me.
“I’m in big trouble, Dex…” I breathed into his fur. I knew it, too. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew where this was going to end. I had to keep telling myself that I couldn’t let doubt enter my mind, not when Dana was my opponent.
I went to school as if nothing was bothering me, though I continued to think about my meeting with Clark at lunch. I also wanted to talk to Becca, but we were never alone long enough.
When lunch rolled around, I went to the east courtyard again and saw Clark waiting for me.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“How are you?”
“Fine,” I lied. “How about you?”
“Okay,” he said, lying right along with me. “You were a little out of it yesterday. What happened with Dana?”
“He just…he got under my skin a little, that’s all,” I rolled my eyes. “He showed me some of the experiments.”
“Oh.” Clark nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said, shrugging it off. “So, what about the records room? Anything?”
“There are all kinds of places we could hide, and the cameras in the room are not live.”
“They’re not?”
“No, I searched every area of the security network and they’re just in there for show.”
“Why would Dana put cameras in one of the most important areas of the Commission just for show?” I said suspiciously.
“Maybe he didn’t,” Clark suggested. “They might have been live when Bryant Morris was in charge of the Commission, but I think only Dana, Sean, and maybe a few of the leading scientists have access to that room right now, so there’s little point. Dana just has to make the scientists believe they’re real and they won’t try anything.”
“Do you think Dana knows about the passage between the records room and the library?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe, but maybe not. Who knows if Bryant Morris kept secrets from Dana or not…”
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