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Life is cruel. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Life is cruel, life never gives, it only takes

And it took everything from me.

My name is Jordan Clark, and I had been an ordinary kid one day. I don’t remember much from my life. I remember my family, but not my friends. My house, but not my school. I don’t know why. Maybe I just remember them better. I was walking to school, I think. Or maybe I was walking from home, after school. Either way, I had been walking when a van had stopped beside me. I know everything about stranger danger and all that, and I knew a windowless white van stopping in front of a twelve year old is bad news, but honestly, I just froze. Then two men jumped out and ran towards me.

I don’t remember what happened after that. I might have done anything from fainting to screaming. I do remember, however, waking up on an operating table. I tried to sit up, but my arms and legs were strapped to it. As I struggled to get free, some people in surgery uniform looked down at me. They tightened the straps, and put some more around my chest and stomach. Then they injected me with something that stoped me from moving. I could still feel the straps, and the table beneath me, but I couldn’t even blink.

Then they began the surgery. I was still conscious, still could feel everything, and they began surgery. I was pure agony. They did several things that I won’t describe. It lasted for hours. But I’ll tell you, and I think this is what made me… unusual, is that they did brain surgery. I don’t know how I was still conscious. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I can’t exactly look it up on Wikipedia right now. Besides, that wasn’t the most impossible thing they did. They put something in my brain. After they were done, they injected me with something and I fell asleep again.

When I woke, I was in a room that looked like an observation room. There was a one sided mirror on one wall opposite me, and a door one the wall to its left. The only other furniture was the bed I was currently lying in. Two people walked in, wearing white lab coats and looking too much like the surgeons. Part of me wanted to scream, but another didn’t let me. This part of me was alien. Not outer space alien, but unfamiliar alien. Before I could think about this more, the doctors, for that was what I decided to call them, were at the foot of my bed. I still wanted to scream, but the second, unfamiliar part of me made me tilt my head and look at them.

“Subject seems normal,” one said, a woman.

“And diagnostics show that its blood pressure is also regular,” the other said, looking at a clipboard he was holding.

It made me angry that they called me a subject, and even worse, they called me it. To this day, I still don’t know what part of me that was angry, and what part made sure that my body didn’t move an inch.

The woman also looked at a clipboard. “But its brain levels are through the roof,” she said, giving a small, proud smile. “I think it worked.”

For the first time, I noticed a device on my wrist.  The man got a remote thing out of his pocket, and showed it to her.

“Should we find out?” he asked, almost teasing.

She pulled out a pen shaped device and dropped it on my bed sheet.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “I think we should.”

The man pressed the button and agony coursed through my body. It was nothing compared to the surgery, nothing could ever compare to the surgery. But the surgery had made me weaker to pain, not stronger. So when the device on my wrist electrocuted me, I lost myself to pain.

And in that moment I could think, the other part of me took over.

I fell deep within myself, and Sarth rose up.  

Sarth, he thought. Yes, he liked his name. It was dramatic, awe inspiring. He could feel the power, the power to move objects without touching them, and wanted to do it. He realised that the device was still shocking him, but now it was a minor annoyance instead of a terrible pain. He focused on it, and it exploded.

The man and the woman weren’t smiling any more.

“It was meant to pick up the pen,” she said. “The electromagnetic signature…”

She never got the chance to finish the sentence. Sarth rose from the bed, except he wasn’t touching the ground. He used his powers to lift himself off the ground. He was levitating, and he had to admit, he thought it was cool. He used his powers to slam the doctor against the wall. One with no mirror, the last thing he needed was for them to escape. He felt Jordan regain conscious, and felt him realise what Sarth was going to do. Jordan struggled to be back in charge. But he would never be back in charge. This was Sarth’s time now. He waved his hand at the mirror, and suddenly it was covered in spider web cracks.

The man tried to run. Sarth couldn’t have that, so with one gesture the man flew back, floating in the air in front of him, and the woman quickly joined him. He could’ve done it without the hand gestures, but he thought it looked cooler.

He tightened his fist, and the pressure he was creating with his mind killed them.

He grinned, and laughed. This was fun. They had kidnapped him, tortured him and done surgery on him. True, the surgery had created Sarth, but the pain had hurt both Jordan and Sarth. And he couldn’t let that crime go unpunished.

First he would destroy this place, whatever it was. The he would move on to the big cities. He would eventually destroy everything. He would kill everyone.  Nothing would be left

It was going to be fun.

The solider ran through the corridors. He had seen al manners of stuff in this place. He had seen experiments done on children, and not all had survived. He knew when an alarm was ringing in a facility like this, it was bad news. He had seen terrible things happen that didn’t require an alarm.

So when a loud alarm was ringing thorough the whole place, he knew it was bad. He was young, barely older than some of the kids who the experiments were done on. Too young for a job like this.

Nearly every solider was running towards an observation room. Then, suddenly, there was a huge explosion. The solider was lucky; he was in a place where the explosion couldn’t kill him, but it was also a place where none of the soldiers thrown through the air could hit him.

Amazingly lucky, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. The solider raised his head, groaning. He had been thrown back, but only by a couple of meters. He could feel the energy in his bones, and not in the I’m full of energy way, but that explosion was full of energy, and I can feel it throbbing in my bones way.

And what the solider saw when he raised his head terrified him. It was a teenage boy, maybe about fourteen or fifteen. That wasn’t the scary part. The scary part was that the boy had glowing red eyes, was floating in the air, about a meter off the ground and rubble and brick were lifting off the ground and floating around him.

He waved his arm at something to the soldier’s right, and another solider was raised into the air in front of the boy, groaning. His helmet had come off, and he has blood coming out of the corner of his mouth. The boy looked at him with those glowing red eyes, and grinned. Then, suddenly, the solider exploded. The boy directed the blood and stuff away from him, but the solider watching was covered in it. It made him feel like vomiting.

He felt his machine gun in his hand. He knew he should at least try and shoot the monster shaped like a boy floating in front of him. His grip momentarily tightened, then he lost whatever confidence he had, and he just watched as the boy picked up another of his colleges and snapped his neck.

Then, suddenly, the boy jerked in mid-air, and opened his mouth in a scream, although no sound came out. The boy dropped, and hit the ground, his whole body in spasm. The solider saw another solider standing behind the boy, holding a Taser. A technician rushed past him and quickly kneeled next to the boy, injecting him with something. The boys red eyes faded and he fell asleep.

***

An hour later, nothing had moved. The boy was still lying there, except he had to be injected again when he looked like he was waking up. The solider was up, but the building was in lockdown, so he couldn’t go and get himself checked out by the medical staff in the medical research building. A few of the doctors that were in the observation building said he should get an x-ray to check for excess energy left in his body.

Meanwhile, the leader of this part of the building was talking to the head of the department, who was safely in his office, in the main building.

“What went wrong?” the head hissed through the phone.

“You’d have to ask the medical department,” the other man stammered. “This is their fault.”

 The head sighed, and then started thinking.

The man knew what he was thinking about. “What should we do with the experiment, sir?”

The head thought for a bit. “Put him in a coma. He may be used for future experiments.”

“Yes sir, I’ll have him transported to the holding building immediately sir.” True to his word, he started making arrangements to have the boy transported for when lockdown was over.

When he was transported, he was in a coma for eight months.