Life Is Not Fair [Worm SI]

I was playing one of my favorite games (Dwarf fortress) on my computer when I heard a knock at my door. Strange, I was not expecting guests this night. I got up and grabbed the metal bat that I had in the corner. Walking down the hall, I got to a window in my living room next to the door, and peered out. I paled, my breath coming out in a sharp gasp, when I realized that the person there was Jack Slash.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to keep your guests waiting?” he said affably when he noticed me.

I turned around and pinched the tip of my pinky finger with my teeth. No, this was not a dream. Which meant that it was a nightmare.

“I don’t like it when people keep me waiting,” I heard Jack say from the front porch. “It makes me feel murderous.”

With a start, I quickly turned and pulled the door open.

Jack walked in with a smooth gait, acting as if he owned the place. I simply stood to the side, shock still wearing its way through my body. Considering who Jack Slash was, I think it was understandable. Who hadn’t heard of Jack fucking Slash? He and his S9 was almost as infamous as the Endbringers. For the past twenty or so years, they had cut a swath throughout the Americas, killing thousands of people as if they were mere cattle.

Jack sat on my sofa, a knife playing in his hands, as he gazed around the small living room. I lived with my father in the Sierra Blanca mountains of New Mexico. It was a fairly isolated area, with the nearest neighbor being a mile away. Our little plot of land originally had a house and a workshop, but I had built a private house on the property for myself just a few years ago. My house just had four rooms; a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and my bedroom, where my computer was.

“Are you just going to stand there like a buffoon?” asked Jack, who was eyeing me up and down. I swallowed and licked my lips.

“Um,” I said intelligently. “What would you like me to do, um, Mr. Slash?”

Jack chuckled a bit, before looking around the room again.

“You seem like a smart young man,” he said. “tell me, do you play chess?”

I simply nodded.

“Do you have a board?”

“Yes”

“Go get it, then. We’ll play a game or two.”

I did as he instructed, returning from my room with the board a few moments later.

“White, or black?” asked Jack when we had set up at the small table in the kitchen.

“Uh, black,” I uttered, wiping the perspiration off my brow.

“Why?”

I stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Why… Why what?”

“Why did you choose black?” asked Jack, who was starting to look a bit miffed. I gulped.

“Um, because,” It was difficult to think through my overwhelming fear. “because, you can-can get a f-feel for what kind of play style your opponent will use in their first few moves.”

“Really?” he asked with interest. “How so?”

I blinked.

“Um, be-because y-”

“Why do you keep saying ‘um’?” Jack interrupted with annoyance. I blinked again, my fear spiking.

“Because… Because you’re terrifying.” I said bluntly. Jack smiled.

“No need to fear, I won’t kill you anytime soon,” He said affably. “but I might change my mind if you keep stuttering and saying ‘Um’.”

If anything, that caused my fear to spike even more. But a funny thing happened. My fear crystalized into determination. The odds of getting out of this alive were slim, so I should focus on minimizing potential pain. The S9 could torture me in all sorts of creative ways. I would rather my death be as quick and as painless as I could make it. Which meant doing my best not to piss off Jack Slash.

I sat a bit straighter, and nodded at him.

“Sorry, sir,” I said, my voice steady. His eye brows rose.

“Hmm, you adapted quick,” Jack said with a calculating gaze. “So, you said something about how you can tell how your opponent will play, just by their first moves?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “It’s more like you can tell if they are a novice or an expert by how they move their pieces. But that’s just my personal thoughts, I am not an expert.”

“How often do you play?”

“Not very often, I prefer Go.”

“Go?” asked Jack curiously.

“It’s an Asian game,” I said. “It is a bit similar to chess.”

“Hmm,” said Jack thoughtfully, making a move on the chess board. “we will have to play that sometime.”

I paused in the middle of making my move.

“How long will you be staying here?” I asked. Every day they stayed here was another day my death might be delayed, but I knew the moment the S9 decided to leave was the moment my death was assured. When I had first been reborn into this world, I had known I would most likely die sometime before I turned 25. If the fight with Scion didn’t get me, then an S class threat probably would.

“An audacious question to ask,” said Jack, who was looking at the chess board. Looking up at me, he smiled and said “For as long as we feel like it.”

Perfect non answer.

“I see,” I said. A thought occurred to me.

“The rest of the S9 are here?”

“Yes,” said Jack. “Well, most of us. Crawler and Siberian don’t like it when we settle down for a while.”

A sudden panic gripped me. My dad was in the big house. If the rest of the S9 were here, then that meant…

“Is my Dad ok?” I asked with baited breath.

“What makes you think we haven’t already killed him?” asked Jack with a smile. From the tone of his voice, he could have been talking about the weather.

Rage.

My fear was suddenly replaced by rage. I wanted to wipe that smile off his face. I wanted to make him pay. I wanted… I wanted…

Jack had placed his knife on the table when we had started playing the game.

I placed my left hand on the table, and used my right hand to pick up a chess piece as if to make my next move. With a sudden jerk, I tossed the piece at his face to distract him. With my other hand, I grabbed the knife and jabbed it in his chest with all the strength I could muster. It slid between his rib bone, but seemed to stop at just an inch in.

I tried to press it farther in, but my wrist was grabbed by Jack, who pulled my hand away.

The knife stuck out from Jack’s ribcage.

“Hmm,” said Jack, who regarded the Knife thoughtfully. “I think that’s the closest anyone has come to killing me in eleven years.”

He looked up at me, a smile on his face. I felt like a deer in the headlights.

“Congratulations, I think you are interesting.”

 

Eight days. Eight days since the Slaughterhouse Nine had to decide to make our home their home, albeit temporarily. I was confined to my house, with Jack Slash for company, while the rest of the S9, minus Siberian and Crawler, stayed in the bigger house with my father. I was not allowed to leave my house, nor allowed to see my father, who was still alive, apparently.

Apparently, none of the S9 needed sleep, while I did. I couldn’t fall asleep when I knew Jack Slash was there, at least at first. But by the end of the second day, I was so tired that I fell asleep at noon, the last thing I saw was Jack’s pale blue eyes watching me.

Every day that passed ratcheted up the tension, until by the eighth day, I was a bundle of nerves that would have jumped at every little sound, if I had not been trying so very hard not to annoy Jack. I did not harbor any delusions of escape. I knew Jack would just send one of his faster teammates to kill me, or worse, bring me back. For his part, Jack spent most of his time reading my books, or watching TV.

Once or twice a day, He would tell me to come out of my bedroom to play a game of chess with him, and we would have, well, I suppose you could call it ‘Interesting’ conversations. For some reason, he was interested in me. I was not sure why. We would talk about things such as my views on morality, my past, and the techniques Jack liked to use to break people.

“…For example, we made Bonesaw revive her parents over and over again,” said Jack, who was smiling. I felt queasy. “She loved her parents, you see. But as time went on, she got tired.”

“After a while, she decided she didn’t love her parents that much,” he continued. “She watched as her mother bled out. And smiled at the end.”

“That’s sick,” I said minutely as I moved a rook in position to take Jack’s knight. Jack surveyed the board, then moved his knight to a new spot. I stared at the board. Dammit, one of my bishops was in trouble, with a fork on it and my queen. I moved my queen, and he took the bishop.

“Do you do that to all of your recruits?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Anything to keep the conversation going so I had something to focus on besides how anxious I was.

“Of course,” said Jack, grinning. “How else could we tell if someone was worthy or not?”

Unbidden, an image popped into my mind, of a character from a videogame. I shuddered.

“What was that?” asked Jack, who had been paying close attention to me. I looked up at him.

“Nothing important,” I said idly, turning my attention back to the game. I was losing.

“Tell me,” Jack commanded. I looked back up at him. He had an expression of annoyed curiosity.

“I was just remembering something,” I said, trying to avoid looking at his face. “a wise person once said ‘It is conflict that strengthens, and defines, your character, while isolation will only erode it’.”

Jack laughed. It was a strange sound. It seemed genuine, but at the same time, I knew it could not mean anything good for me.

“Who was this person?” he asked after a few moments, curiosity lighting his face.

“A character in a video game.” I replied. “Her name was Kreia.”

“Interesting.” He said, sounding amused.

We refocused on the game for the next few minutes, neither of us speaking much. Then Jack beat me at chess again.

“I don’t think I agree,” said Jack as we set up the board for a new game. I blinked in confusion.

“What you said about conflict,” he clarified after seeing my expression.

“Why?” I asked. I had to admit I was curious. I had thought the quote would appeal to him.

“Because conflict can erode your character as well as strengthen it,” said Jack, contempt leaking into his voice. “Take Bonesaw, for example. Before we got to her, she was a kind, sweet, loving girl. She wanted to use her power for good, to heal those who needed it, because she could. And she did.”

He paused for a brief moment, as if to collect his thoughts.

“My goal was to use her love of her parents against her,” Jack continued. “by forcing her to revive her parents over and over again. That was conflict. A conflict between me and her, and she lost. She lost because in the end, all the things that defined her, drove her to continue trying to keep those she loved alive, but in the end she failed. She failed because she lacked the will to keep going. In the end, she didn’t love her parents enough.”

“Her character was eroded to dust, because of her conflict with you.” I stated. It made sense in a twisted sort of way. I felt a jolt of tension. Was he going to do the same to me? I hoped not, a quick death would be preferable.

“Exactly,” he agreed, looking at me “A person engaged in conflict can grow, but they can also wither. Let’s take you, for example.”

“Me?” I asked quizzically, my tension escalating. What was Jack going to do? Damnit!

“Yes, you,” said Jack, smiling at me. “we have been here for eight days, and yet strangely enough you have made no attempt to escape or communicate with the outer world. Most people try to in the first 24 hours. By day two, they are either trying to pamper us hand and foot, or begging for death. I am very curious as to why you are different.”

I frowned. The question was obvious, but I was not sure how to answer it.

“I think… it’s because I know doing either probably won’t work. If I tried to run, your teammates can catch or kill me very easily. And you have two tinkers on your team, who can use their technical skills to prevent communications.”

“You would just give up that easily?” asked Jack, who seemed annoyed. Uh oh. That was a bad sign. Quick, say something that would please him!

“I want very much to live,” I said simply, a bit of an edge to my voice. “so I figure, every day I don’t piss you off is a day that, odds are, you won’t feel like killing me.”

Jack grinned.

“But that’s not all of it, is it?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

“After a few days of me being here, you seemed to stop being skittish around me.” Jack pointed out.

“I’m still terrified of you,” I said mildly. “but I think that if you live with near heart-stopping terror for a while, your body gets used to it.”

Jack chuckled.

“I think that’s part of the reason I keep you around,” he said. “Despite the fact that you could die at any moment, you keep your wit about you, and use humor to deal with a bad situation. And so your character grows, strengthens, because of your conflict with me.”

I frowned.

“Why do you care?” I asked suddenly, a bit of anger leaking out of my voice. “Im just a normal person. I don’t even have a power.”

“Because it’s interesting,” Jack replied easily. “I’m interested in you, and how you came to be the person you are today. What makes you tick? What holds you together?”

He paused to drink some water from a glass.

“Most of the time, it’s this one little thing. In architecture they call it a keystone. The one stone that keeps the entire arch from collapsing. The weak point. And I’m very, very good at finding those weak points.”

The words sounded familiar, as if I had heard them before.

“And you think you know what my weak points are,” I stated. Jack smirked.

“I have been living with you for eight days, more than enough time to figure you out,” He agreed.

I scowled. I already knew I was dead. I just hadn’t hit the ground yet. Yet the idea of someone knowing so much about me really rankled.

“For example, how would you feel if I killed your dad in front of you?”

I stared at Jack. The idea of losing my father… I suddenly felt emotionally conflicted. I loved my father, and while I had already accepted the idea that I would die soon, I had not really considered the idea that he would be dead too. Perhaps… Perhaps I had been avoiding thinking about that.

“I would be… devastated.” I said, a bit sullenly. “and I’d probably be in a really bad place for a while. And, well, I think I would be angry. I’d want to get revenge on the person who killed him.”

“Revenge?” asked Jack curiously. “You wouldn’t seek justice? You wouldn’t let the cop’s or PRT handle it?”

“If I lived in a better world than this one, then yes, most likely.” I replied. “But I don’t, so if I wanted Justice, I would have to take it into my own hands. That is revenge.”

“So do you think the death of your dad would weaken you? Or strengthen you?” asked Jack.

“Weaken.” I said honestly.

“Really?” pondered Jack. “Why do you think that is?”

“Because… Because he is the foundation upon which I stand,” I said nervously. “He provides emotional and… financial support. Without him, life would be harder for me.”

“Or perhaps he is simply a crutch you use to support yourself?” Jack suggested. I bristled at the comment.

“You would think so,” I bit out. “To you, that’s a weakness you can exploit, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he replied readily. “Far too often, a loved one is the foundation on which a person’s identity stands. But loved ones are often the easiest weak point to strike. The question is, can a new identity be formed from what is left?”

I had a sudden epiphany. There was a way out. A way to survive. But it would cost me. Oh it would cost me. But was it a price I was willing to pay?

“Like you did with Bonesaw.”

“Exactly!” said Jack. “Now you’re getting it.”

“So, you’re going to kill my father, and, what? Pick up the pieces?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach.

Jack grinned sadistically. My heart suddenly sank.

“No, I’m not going to kill your father.” He said slowly, his grin getting wider with every word.

“You are.”

 

OK! The next chapter can be found in the NSFW creative writing forum of Questionable Questing. Please Return here for replies.

Thank you!

 

I had to do a bit of research for this one. Enjoy!
--
My skin felt like it was melting and bubbling, as if someone had poured acid on it.

“What?!” I stared at Jack Slash. He grinned.

Razors were slicing up and down my veins.

“That’s right,” he said sadistically. “You’re going to eat your father, bite by bite. While he’s still alive.”

My internal organs felt like they were being diced up or liquefied.

I stared at him in horror. It was one thing to kill my dad, at least then I could kill him quickly, kill him painlessly.

My fingernails and toenails felt like rusty bits of metal were being jammed in them.

But this… this would be a whole other level.

My eyeballs felt like twin balls of fiery pain burning in my skull.

I realized then, anything would be preferable, much more preferable to inflicting such pain and horror on my father. The pain and horror of being eaten alive.

A migraine that felt like an elephant was standing on my head.

In that moment, I acted. Bonesaw was standing next to me. I acted without rhyme or reason, jolting down towards her so I could grab something, anything, from her apron pockets.

My spine felt like a live wire that burned with painful energy.

I sought something, anything, that I could use to kill myself.

Nails were being pounded into my bones.

But before I got so much as a hand in a pocket, I felt something hit me on the back of the head.

My heart beat painfully, so fast, so wild that I was surprised it hadn’t given out.

I had woken up to pain. Pain so horrible, I couldn’t think. So awful, I forgot there had been a time before it. So terrible, I would do something, anything, for it to end.

I felt an abrupt popping sensation in my head.

And suddenly, the pain was gone.

I had little time to consider that fact, because at the same time my perception was shifted in a new direction, and I perceived two huge… things that I was at a loss to describe.

They were gigantic, each the size of small planets. The pattern of their form seemed to shift and move as they each orbited each other. It felt like they occupied more than one dimension, with different parts of themselves occupying the same space at the same time. They seemed to move with a pattern that I couldn’t figure out, a pattern that was there, but just beyond reach of understanding.

They moved apart, their movements in sync, orbiting in a pattern that I thought was a double helix. They seemed to shed parts of their bodies, with trailed away like a comets tail. Each orbit brought them further and further apart.

When they were too far away to see one another, they communicated, and each message was enormous and violent in scope, expressed with the energy of a star going supernova. One ‘word’, one idea, for each message.

Destination. Agreement. Trajectory. Agreement.

They would meet again at the same place. At a set time, they would cease to expand their revolution and contract once again, until they drew together to arrive at their meeting place.

I was suddenly brought back to crushing reality by the return of the pain. But something was different.

I could feel… myself like I had never felt myself before. Every bit of DNA, every cell, every organ. I could perceive it clearly; how muscle, tendon, and sinew was attached to bone in order to facilitate motions, how my heart beat to push blood so that my muscles could get the oxygen they needed to function, how my nerves fired to tell my muscles when to move. I could perceive all the things that Bonesaw had changed, like the stomach and the strange extra organ, the alterations make to my mouth, and the nodes she had put in my brain that altered how I taste things, as well as the ones that were stimulating my pain centers.

And I realized I could do something about it.

I instinctively use my power to push the nodes out of my head. My brain morphed around them, forcing them up, my skull morphing around them too. I was careful not to alter the neurons and glial cells, not wanting to give myself brain damage. But I did repair the damage the nodes had done.

No longer feeling the awful pain I had been forced to endure, I turned my attention back to my body. Pushing the nodes out of my head had been an instinctive reaction. But now, I could finally think. I surveyed my body using my power.

Then something unexpected happened. Information. Information flowed into my mind, showing me a hundred weaknesses and soft points in my internal biology, as well as how to either fix them or use them to my advantage.

So I’m a thinker as well a biokinetic. I thought as I processed the information. Can I manipulate bio matter other than my body?

I considered the question. There probably was an easy way to answer it. I turned my attention to my small intestine. I could perceive the organ itself, but I couldn’t see the bacteria in it. They were there, I could feel them like little pinpricks in the organ, but I couldn’t perceive their internal biology.

That’s a resounding no.

I was prevented from further thought by the feeling of someone blowing powder on my face. As my skin absorbed some of the powder, I could see what it was. Prions! Some sort of specially make prions that were designed to attack a certain part of the brain, the part that controlled powers. The prions where easy enough to neutralize with my power, but I decided to play along and pretend my power had been locked away.

I opened my eyes to the sight of Bonesaw standing over me.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully. “You triggered! I’m so looking forward to finding out what your power is and-”

“Now, now, dear Bonesaw,” said the voice of Jack over her shoulder. “You can wait until after Mannequin’s test to do that.”

“Oh, ok,” said Bonesaw with a crestfallen look, before perking up again. “I can’t wait for you to do my test! I think I can come up with something special for you.”

I stared up at them. While they had been talking, my power gone to work.

Structural weakness in the knee joints. Strike the knee cap to cause a patella fracture, resulting in pain, swelling, internal bleeding, and an inability to extend the knee, therefore resulting in difficulty walking or running.

Structural weakness in the ribcage. Strike in the gap between ribs to cause a pulmonary laceration, resulting in pain, internal bleeding, and collapse of lung architecture, therefore resulting in difficulty breathing, possible fainting, and/or death.

Structural weakness in the spine. Strike the cervical curve to cause spinal cord injury, resulting in pain, internal bleeding; loss of muscle function, sensation, or autonomic function in parts of the body served by the spinal cord below the level of the lesion, and/or death.

Structural weakness in the skull. Strike…

I stopped focusing on my power. It was useful info to have, but I didn’t think it would help me now.

“Mannequin’s test?” I asked, a little curious.

“Oh, yes,” Jack grinned. “It was his idea of making you eat your dad. He hoped you would trigger from doing it, but it seems that he will be disappointed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for disappointing him by triggering while being tortured,” I said sarcastically. “Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.”

Plus, there is no way I’m doing that now.

“Perhaps,” said Jack, “But now that you are a Para-human like us, there no reason why we can’t have you do our tests.”

“You want me to join you?” I asked, bewildered. “A member of the S9?”

“Of course!” smiled Jack. “Or else what would the point be?”

“I don’t know,” I said sullenly. “Sick amusement?”

Jack laughed.

“You would think that, would you?” He asked, smiling broadly. He then turned to the side. “Speaking of tests, your first one starts now.”

He gestured at the doorway to the workshop. I looked that way, and paled. A woman stood there. A woman as nude as the day she was born, waist long hair, and skin that was a pattern of white and black. The Siberian. My thinker power only seemed to work when I was looking at someone, but nothing happened when I looked at her.

“You have an hour to get started running,” said Jack. “if you last three days without getting killed, you will have passed her test.”

I stared at her.

The Siberian grinned ferally.
--
The thinker power is not as OP as it may first seem. It has rules and limits. I have hinted at one in this chapter. If you can figure it out, you get a cookie!

 

No normal person could do this, I thought in a blind panic as I raced through the thick foliage of the woods. She is way too fast.

The vegetation of the woods was too thick for me to see her, but I could hear her very well. To say the Siberian was fast was a bit of a misnomer. She was more like a marathon runner running for a speed record, with the twist that she never got tired.

If you have ever had to run through the woods, you’ll know that what they say in books and show in the moves is a sham. Woods tend to be thick with undergrowth, making running through them rather difficult unless you were following a path or trail. Something I couldn’t afford to do, as it would only help the Siberian keep track of me.

Fortunately for me, my power enabled me to blow through the undergrowth almost like it was not there, not having to worry about getting scratched or bruised. Unfortunately for me, the Siberian could do the same. Plus, having to run through undergrowth was slowing me down a bit.

Thankfully, my thinker power was somewhat helpful in that regard. If I focused it internally, and thought about a problem I needed to solve, it would give me useful direction on how to adapt towards solving the problem. For example, how to adapt towards being able to run as fast as I could.

I was a tall and skinny man, who didn’t have much meat on his bones. I also had not really done much exercise in my life. Both were solvable problems.

With each step I took, I shrunk a few inches, until I was about 4 feet tall. I redistributed protein from non-essential organs to my legs and lungs. More leg muscle mass would help me run faster, and more lung mass would help me get more oxygen in my bloodstream. I also optimized my legs, lungs, and heart for maximum output. An added benefit of my power was that it seemed to automatically break down waste products back into useful biomatter.

Despite all the changes I made, I was just barely keeping ahead of her. Part of the problem was it that I didn’t have enough biomass to fuel and grow the organs I needed. The other part was apparent limits my thinker power had.

The human body was not meant for speed. Instead, it was optimized by evolution for endurance running. Our ancient ancestors had been evolutionary successful by being able to outlast their prey by simply chasing it for a very long time, preventing it from getting access to water or food, until it was too exhausted to run or fight anymore.

What that meant was that a human shape was not going to help me in running away from her, at least not in the long term. Which meant if I was going to survive, I would have to abandon it in favor of a body shape more conducive to speed.

And that was when I hit a wall with my thinker power. Apparently, my thinker power was limited to showing me how adapt and optimize a human body towards solving a particular problem. I think it was because all it had to work with was human DNA. It couldn’t show me how to make a four legged body that was good at running. It couldn’t show me how to make better lung tissue, or how to make better muscles, or a better nose for tracking, or better eyes for seeing. All it could show me was how to make the best lungs, the best muscles, the best nose, and the best eyes a human could possibly have.

Fortunately, there was a solution to both problems.

--

It was half an hour later when I entered a small clearing in the forest. I spotted a small herd of deer on the other side, that had turned and fled at the sight of me crashing into it.

I needed one of them, but catching one would be difficult. A white tailed deer can run at up to 47 mph. I had my adaptations to help with speed, but even that would not be enough to catch up with them. Fortunately, I had planned for that.

While my thinker power could help me figure out how to optimize and adapt my body without having to do a lot of experimenting, that didn’t mean I was totally reliant on it. I could make alterations independent of it.

I pointed one of my arms at a fleeing deer. This arm did not resemble anything that looked like a human arm. Instead, at the end of the arm was a specially made organ, the design of which was based off of what I knew about how bb guns and paint guns worked. At the back end of it, I had made an airtight container out of non-porous, tightly compressed bone matter. I had compressed as much air in it as I thought I could, such that the only thing that prevented the container from exploding was my power. Attached to the container was a crude release mechanism and long tube made from the same material. My planned projectile made of even more tightly compressed bone, and was about 2 inches long and half an inch wide.

Triggering the release mechanism, the air exploded out, pushing the projectile out with enough force for the it to pierce all the way through the deer. The deer staggered and fell.

I couldn’t afford to waste time. I ran up to the fallen deer. My mid-section opened up like a large, vertical mouth and I fell on it. Surprisingly, it was quick enough work to consume and absorb the deer’s biomass, such that about 15 seconds later, I was up and running again.

Those 15 seconds had cost me, however, as the Siberian had caught up to me. I felt something hit me as I tried to stand up, my form having turned into a strange combination of man and deer.

My thinker power was still sorting through the new adaptations I got from the deer’s DNA, so I had make the split second decision to turn into a centaur look alike.

The Siberian’s blow sent me crashing through the thick foliage, with enough force to break bones. It was not enough to stop me, however. I got up seconds later, only for the Siberian to grab one of my wrists. But she didn’t hold on for long.

I liquefied everything under the skin in my hand and wrist and pulled it out of her grasp. Not wasting a second, I jumped out of her reach, catching a slightly dumbfounded look on her face as I turned and bounded away.

She didn’t stay still for very long, as I heard her following me again a few seconds later. But things were different this time. The deer DNA gave me a whole new breath of adaptations to choose from. As the chase was renewed, I again made alterations to my body.

The Deer was specially adapted for running very fast, in a wide variety of environments. I decide to abandon the human shape altogether. I replaced the human torso with a deer’s head. I also sprouted a set of eyes and ears on my rump so I could see and hear the Siberian behind me. Once I optimized all the organs, I dumped the excess biomass in a large, fleshy sack behind me.

As the minutes passed, I realized that I was gaining a lead on her. Little by little, she was falling behind. But I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I didn’t want to run for my life for three straight days. Just the idea of doing so made me feel mentally exhausted.

An idea suddenly popped into my head.

If I could get a bird, then I would have a flying adaptation, and I could just fly out of here!

Almost immediately, I spotted one. A blue jay. It would be have to be enough.

Using my enhanced deer reflexes, I jumped at it. The blue jay was startled by my sudden appearance, and attempted to take flight, but by then it was too late. Like before, my midsection opened up like a big mouth, and I gobbled it right up. My thinker power got to work.

20 seconds later, feathers started sprouting from my skin. 30 seconds later, two pairs of wings and a tail of feathers started to grow from my sides and rump. My bones hollowed out, I replaced the deer’s head with an overlarge, close approximation of a blue jay’s head. it was too small to house my brain, so I put that in my torso, just below my heart.

A moment later, I burst from the thick foliage of the forest into open plains. A few more moments later, so did the Siberian. I was too far away for her to catch me though.

Thank god. I thought. This plan just might work.

I started flapping my double wingspan, which had reached over 3 meters by this point. I started jumping, and each time it took me a little longer to reach the ground, my wings flapping all the while.

Then, on my seventh jump, with my wingspan now at 4.5 meters, I started gaining altitude.

A thermal. I realized.

Thermals are updrafts of warm air, which most larger birds used to gain altitude that they couldn’t with flapping their wings alone.

Using my rear eyes, I noticed that the Siberian was still following me, Looking at me with an incredibly angry expression on her face. Too bad, she couldn’t follow me into the sky. At least, I hoped she couldn’t.

With a sigh, I dumped the remaining biomass I didn’t need, and drifted up into the blue.

 

My hopes were dashed a moment later, when the Siberian jumped. Shit! I just barely managed to swerve out of her vector before she got to me, her hand just a… feather’s breath? away. When she missed me, she came to a complete stop, and dropped like a rock to the ground.

I had managed to get about 300 feet off the ground before she had jumped, and swerving had cost me precious altitude, causing me to drop about three feet. I had only just managed to resume my flapping rhythm when she jumped again.

The same pattern repeated for the next several minutes. She would jump straight at me, I would lose a bit of precious altitude when she missed me, she would stop and drop to the ground, before doing it again.

I couldn’t keep doing this, I couldn’t avoid her and gain altitude at the same time. When I had been running on the ground, I had managed to keep a solid lead. In the air, however, I was limited by my great size. I couldn’t get smaller, or else my lungs wouldn’t be able to produce enough oxygen to power my wings and my brain at the same time.

Which meant that I had to figure out how to flap my wings faster. Unfortunately, my thinker power was not responding on that matter, which meant I had to figure out how to make it happen on my own. But I couldn’t work on how to fix it, and pay attention to her at the same time.

When I figured that out, my thinker power suddenly pinged me with a solution.

Oh I thought, feeling stupid for not having figured it out. That should work…

With my thinker power to guide me, I began to use special biomatter from a reserve I had kept, just in case I needed it. I began constructing blood vessels, glial cells, and neurons that would form the basis for a secondary brain to work on the problem, while my primary brain could work on avoiding The Siberian.

It was difficult work. Neurons are more complex than other cells. I had to program each neuron with a unique set of information, organize them, and make sure they could all function in concert with their neighbors. Fortunately, my thinker power assisted me with this, so I could do it without really thinking about it, it would just take a while. Hopefully it would be done before I got too close to the ground.

10 nerve-racking minutes later, it was complete, and I activated it. It felt… strange. I could think about two different things at once, with the Primary and Secondary brains working in concert, easily sharing information between them. The secondary brain was smaller, as it only needed to be conscious, and capable of fast, logical thought.

The secondary brain got to work.

First, what is the problem that needs to be solved? I needed to figure out how to flap my wings faster. I scanned my wings with my power. Hmm. My power was automatically breaking down most of the waste byproducts back into useful bio matter, and using it to rejuvenate individual muscle cell’s so that they could keep working without getting tired.

The problem was carbon dioxide. My power was not breaking it down, but instead letting it stream back to the lungs to be exhaled. I queried my thinker power about it, and it turned out that could reduce lung efficiency by causing a minor pressure differential with exterior atmosphere, therefore making exhalation a bit more difficult. Which would reduce slightly lung efficiency.

I internally rolled my eyes. That’s what I get for trusting a power best used for optimizing, not innovating. I turned on automatic CO2 reprocessing, and felt an almost immediate difference. With more oxygen in my blood stream I could feel my muscles working better, more powerfully. I reconfigured my cardiovascular system to take advantage of the extra oxygen to make it more efficient.

My wings started to beat more quickly, more powerfully. In the time it had taken me to fix the problem, I had lost 100 feet of altitude. Each time, the Siberian had come closer and closer to grabbing me. If I had wanted to live, I had to be lucky every time. The Siberian would only have to get lucky once. Thankfully, my luck had held out, and now I was gaining altitude more quickly than the Siberian could make me lose it. Getting out of her way when she jumped was easier too, all I had to was turn on my side and my wings would propel me out of her vector.

She stopped jumping when I had gained about a 1000 feet, instead following me on the ground. I could see her face, glaring up at me with anger. I smiled inside. Yeah, I wasn’t going to play her stupid little game. Still, her following me on the ground was going to be a problem. I needed to ditch her somehow, or else I wouldn’t be able to land.

I turned my attention to the landscape around me. Right in front of me was a mountain range called the Capitan Mountains. Maybe I could fly there and hide for a few hours? I was flying faster than she could run, so I would get there first, plus there was only one road that led there, so Dr. Manton have to go there himself.

I liked the idea. I could finally rest for a moment, and make plans. I could also hunt to get more DNA, and learn more about how my power worked.

Ok, then I thought, my attention turning back to the Siberian. I hope she doesn’t suddenly reveal super tracking abilities.
​

 

The Capitan Mountains were a giant protrusion of rock that stood out from the surrounding plains. The nearest town, called Capitan as well, was roughly 8 miles away. An interesting feature of the mountains was a small dip that formed a V shape in between the different peaks. This dip had a road that went through it, which forked. One end of the fork would go beyond the mountains, while the other would lead to a mountain peak.

Given that it was close to the range of Manton’s projection, I really couldn’t afford to stop and rest there. However, I could use the mountains as a giant rock wall that would obscure my real destination.

Right now, it seemed like the Siberian was maintaining a top speed at just enough to keep me in sight. I, on the other hand, was speeding up. My wings were flapping so fast I could hear them hum like a humming bird’s. I didn’t know fast I was going, but it seemed like the mountains were getting too big, too soon. In a few minutes, I was flying over them. The Siberian was far behind me.

Just before the mountains could obscure my view of her, she jumped again. But this jump was not like any of her other jumps.

She shot forward like a bullet, straight at me. When I thought back on that moment, months later, I knew I couldn’t have done anything to avoid her. I was saved by the fact that about halfway along her vector, she seemed to reach the limit of Manton’s range. She stopped in midair, staring at me with such hatred that it put all of her other angry faces to shame.

I swerved, startle by her sudden speed. Had she just been toying with me the whole time? No time to think about it, I had to take advantage of the fact that she was at the limit of Manton’s range before she could get too close again.

I floated down to the other end of the mountains, obscuring her view of me, then angled myself north and flapped for all I was worth.

--

If you wanted to get to Albuquerque, the most direct route by road would take you 3 hours to get there. With my wings beating as fast as a hummingbird’s, I managed it in an hour. As far as I could tell, the Siberian didn’t see where I went after I lost her using the mountains. No need to take risks, thought. I had a laundry list of things I needed and/or wanted to do before I would leave the state altogether.

I was half way there when I remembered that Dad was still stuck with the S9.

Should I try and save him? I wondered. Before, I was powerless. Now, though…

Given enough time and preparation, I could save him. a different part of me said. But right now… right now, I am not strong enough.

But he’s my dad! I love him! said a small, more emotional part of me.

He’s dead. Or he soon will be said the cold, logical part of me.

He’s not dead yet. I could do something, anything to save him.

He’s not dead. But he will be, or worse. Do I really think I can go up against them in a fight? With Crawler and Siberian there, I don’t stand a chance.

But, but…

Look at it this way, he would want me to escape. He would want me to do everything in my power to survive. Do I want his sacrifice to be in vain?

No…

Then don’t. I leave him behind.

I didn’t feel anything. It wasn’t numbness. It was a blank, an absence. Shouldn’t I feel something? With a start, I remembered that I had altered my emotional centers in order to not freeze up or lose control of myself to instinct when I had first started Siberian’s test, back when I had blindly trusted my thinker power. I still felt fear, but everything else was muted.

I altered them back. I wanted to feel the pain, the anguish. It reminded me I was still me. it reminded me that I was still human. I let the tears fall, even though I could have easily stopped them with my power.

Well, good bye dad… I thought.

I will miss you…
​

 

I do not in anyway support pick-pocketing, counterfeiting, or carjacking. they are just part of the story.
--
I alighted on a rock outcropping in the Manzano Mountains that over looked Albuquerque. From where I was looking at it, the City looked like a gray mass that sprawled across the landscape. I had an idea of what I needed to do next, but I had a few things to do before I could enter the city.

As I was now, if I turned into a human shape, I could probably pass for a midget. But being so small would hinder the plans I had in mind. I needed to be tall, which meant I needed more biomass. Which meant I would have to hunt. Fortunately, the Manzano Mountains had plenty of wildlife to choose from. But I was more interested in plants. In my mad dash to get away from the Siberian, I had accidentally absorbed some of the plant life I had burrowed through to get away from her.

My thinker power answered my unasked question. Hmm, it seemed that so long as an object was inside me, my power would consider it to be “part” of me, and could immediately dissolve the object into its base components if I wanted it to. In addition, my power would keep a blue print of the object in question, in case I wished to replicate it.

Well that answered the question of why I had been able to eat the deer so quickly. So I maybe I eat a tr-.

Both my minds froze in sudden shock as I realized something.

Wait, when my thinker power said ‘any object’, did it really mean ‘any object’? I wasn’t limited to just biological objects?

My thinker power answered with a resounding ‘Yes’.

I shuddered as I considered the implications. Or rather, my secondary brain got to work considering the implications while my primary brain decided to get to work finding a suitable source of biomass. Time being short and all.

Ok I thought. My thinker power just told me that I could replicate any object I consumed.

Yes, said my thinker power.

Ok, can the object be of any material?

No.

Ok, what kind of material can I not consume?

No response.

I suppose I should not have expected it to be that easy. I grumbled. Is there a limit on how big I can grow?

Yes.

Oookey. How big can I grow?

No response.

Seriously? God damn it, why can’t it ever be easy? Is there any part of myself that I can’t alter?

My thinker power responded, but not in a way that I can describe. I now knew that I couldn’t alter my Corona Pollentia, that I couldn’t change my brain in such a way that I would give myself a lobotomy, and that I couldn’t change my body in such a way that my brain wouldn’t get enough oxygen to operate. Everything else was pretty much free game. Good to know.

Also disturbing. If I was reading this right, it meant I could do absurd things like replace my bones with a durable metal alloy, my muscles with Carbon Nanotubes, and my neurons with Nano machines that were a thousand times better.

I would have to have the proper knowledge base to do so, but the potential was there. And if I was not careful, one toe out of line could possibly mean being slapped with a one-way ticket to the Birdcage. Or a kill order.

Can I create new life forms?

Yes.

Yeah, I definitely had to be as fucking careful as I possibly could be.

--

After consuming a lot of plant material, plus a mountain lion (buuurp), I finally made my way down to the city proper. As I had consumed my clothing during the escape from the Siberian, I simply replicated them, spit them out of my midsection, and put them on.

It was close to sunset when I got to my target, which was Albuquerque International Airport. Why the Airport, do you ask? Simple, airports had a lot of foot traffic. It would be a perfect place to gather new DNA samples for a disguise, and pickpocket some cash so I could do some counterfeiting, both of which would be ridiculously easy for my power to do. Maybe I could even learn how to make a fake ID, which could be useful.

--

After getting everything I needed, which took about an hour, I walked around the airport parking lot, planning to take a car. I eventually found one that was really dusty, meaning that it was unlikely anyone would miss it. I pressed my finger in the keyhole, and formed a key matching it out of compressed bone.

I did the same with ignition. The car spluttered to life, I guess the gas was old. Maybe I could do something about that?

--

Assuming the appearance of a middle aged Hispanic man, I stopped at a car wash to clean the dust off, then a gas station to get fresh gas and oil. I then drove down a dirt road so I could change the oil without people seeing me. As I had no license, I really couldn’t afford to get caught by the police, unless I wanted to resort to violence.

The State of New Mexico was kind of unique in that it had no cape scene. People that triggered here tended to move to either Phoenix Arizona, or Mexico City in Mexico. Strangely enough, Mexico had somehow avoided being taken over by the drug cartels, so it was a relatively stable place to live. And for some reason, capes seemed to prefer living in cities.

--

I smiled. I had managed to get everything I wanted without anyone getting suspicious. I was now the proud owner of a laptop, a mobile modem, and a burner phone. To get them, I had had to shuffle counterfeit hundred dollar bills, visa gift cards, and fake IDs. A stressful experience that I wasn’t keen to repeat, but necessary none the less.

I just hoped I could reach Boston before I got on the wrong sort of people’s radar.