The Beginning
I’m sitting in the court room. They’re trialing me on a count of murder the judge asked me to tell my side of the story ….of how my mother died.
“Well I guess I should start from the beginning,” I said “but I should worn you my story is long.”
“We have three days for you story,” The judge informed me. “Please continue.”
“It was all fine till I turned about three years old, by than my mom started drinking again. She never wanted anything to do with me. My father came home on one of his rare days off and told me I wouldn’t see my mom for a while. I never asked him why, though now that I think back on it I guess I never really cared.
“My father took me to a place in Phoenix, Arizona. I can’t remember the name of the building, but I do remember the building having a blue roof, the south walls where made entirely of glass, the rest of the building seamed to be made of concrete.
“It looked just like any other business building, and it didn’t seam harmful. Though I guess we all know the saying you can’t judge a book by the cover. We took and elevator that was hidden form the rest of the staff and workers in the building. The elevator took us all the way down to the third floor of the basement witch was also kept hidden for everyone.
“As soon as the elevator doors opened I could here the screams of the others, some where even wishing they were dead. What I didn’t know at the time was that I would share the same fate.
“Ok everyone this is my son…his name is Xander,” I heard my father say “he will be the newest test subject he is capable of taking far grater amounts of pain than most kids his age. Meaning as he gets older he should be able to survive the regeneration testing process and we might be able to get more results this time because of it.
“At that time I had know idea what they where talking about, but if I had I would never have let them use me as a human lab rat. I still get chills when ever I think of what they use to do to people down there.
“My father than took me to a little white room. I had know idea that I would be spending the next ten years in that room when I had first arrived there. My father never explained fully to me what was going on, or what I would be forced to go threw. The only thing he told me is that I would be staying in Phoenix for a while, and that a lot or things would be going on. When I tried to ask him about the screaming but he simply told me not to worry about it and then left my room. I was up for most of the night lessening to people screaming, It was bout three thirty in the morning before I actually was able to fall asleep.
“The next day my father sent one of his assistants to get me. I could still hear the screams of pain as we walked down the hall. I tried to ask her about the screams as well but she just ignored me. The though that always crossed my mind when I was in that hall was why…why would they be screaming and wishing they where dead? The only thing I could think of that even made since to me at the time, seeing as I was only three years old, was that they where scared and that it was probably just a needle. The worst part was I had know idea just how right I was about that theory.
“We got to the lab. It was very bright and a very white room. There was a chair with what looked to be restraints. There was also a table in the room witch my father put me on and told me to lay back.
“At that time I loved my father dearly and would do almost any thing for him if it made him happy. So I did as he asked me to and laid back on the table waiting to see what he was going to me.
“I could fell him strapping me down, and while he did I again wondered why? I than looked at every one else in the room and they all appeared to have somewhat of a sympathetic look on there face. I asked why everyone was staring at me that way but know one would answer me. After that my father placed a gag in my mouth and tied it.
“I began to wonder why they where doing this to me and if they did this to any one else here or not. I watched as a man with black hair filled a syringe with a liquid green substance. “What is that?” I tried to ask threw the gag though know one herd me.
“Are you sure you want to do this to your own son? The black haired guy asked my father.
“I haven’t got a choice we need a younger specimen,” He said simply “I’m truly sorry my son.” Those where the last words I heard form my father that showed he even cared a little. That was also the day I stared to hate him for what he forest me into and everything else he had done to me.
