The Beginning

“This isn’t something I asked for! I didn’t want it!” he shouted, unable to control the breaking in his voice. This subtle pitch change made him sound weak to his own ears. 

“What are you talking about?” she replied, yelling through the rain. “This is crazy! Come down and we can talk. I don’t want you to die!” she pleaded, mascara melting down her cheeks. 

Even now, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever been lucky enough to behold. Sadly, it wasn’t enough today. “I’m sorry” He stepped backward off the bridge- he was even too cowardly to look into the face of his imminent demise. As he looked up, he could see her face disappear from the ledge, shrinking as his tears fell slower than he did. He closed them and drank in his last miserable moments in this hurtful world. The last sound he heard was his own spine shattering beneath him- then, darkness.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“No.” his body thrashing around the stark sheets.

Beep. Beep. Beep. His eyes flashed open to see familiar popcorn ceilings he had come to know so well. 

“NO!” he shouted. He attempted to bolt upright in his hospital bed, but he couldn’t move. Looking down at his wrists were thick, brown leather straps, fastened on the furthest notch. He had been in this bed for some time, judging from the discoloration of the leather against his sweat. Still, he fought to loosen them. The desperate screams and animalistic grunting must have alerted a nearby nurse because in rushed a small army of muscular orderlies and their trusty syringes. They remained eerily silent as they pushed the patient down further in the bed to administer their mystery fluid. They didn’t even bother to look for a vein. They knew this was the only thing they had left in their medical arsenal that actually knocked this kid out and they only had a few seconds to get it into his system, before he made it out of the bed.

“Say something! Fucking speak!” the veins bulging in his neck threatened to explode at any moment, painting the stark white room with his hot blood. “Tell me! Where am I? What happened to me? I demand youth thay...thay…” he could hear himself and knew he was fading.

“You’re...you’re all a bunth of...of…” words were failing him. “A bunth...ofth...cowarths. Thay thumping!” His whole body felt heavy and hot.  He could feel his strength begin to betray him and with his last bit of consciousness, he tried to spit on the closest person to him. His mouth only managed to push out a mixture of blood and spittle that rolled down his chin and resigned to staining his medical gown.

Even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape himself. His mind bent on making him relive his worst memories, replaying the worst visions it could find. Dislocating his mother’s shoulder after she picked him up during a temper tantrum. Breaking his prom date’s wrist as he attempted to spin her. Being kicked off the football team after being accused of taking enhancement drugs, despite a clean blood test. You don’t get to stay on the team when another player's death is on your record- even if it was an accident.

Desperate to make the movie stop, he pries his dry, crusty eyes open. They flutter at the bright light streaming through the window. Forgetting about the straps, he unsuccessfully tries to shield his face. If he wanted to get out this time, he knew he had to be quiet. He took four deep breaths, opening and closing his fingers before settling on a fist. He began to pull his arm as the straps held fast. He concentrated on the sight of the leather digging into his skin, the blue road maps of blood vessels along his arm seemed to pulse in time to the incessant beeping of his unforgiving heartbeat demanded to be heard. The room faded to black around him and he could only see the straps. He closed his eyes and envisioned the leather breaking and his free arm clawing at the other restraints. The beeping and his heartbeat seemed to grow in volume. He pulled harder as the ringing in his ears and the pounding his chest became the only sounds. 

 “Just a little more…” he thought as the leather snapped and his fist flew to meet his face. The punch landed between his left eye and nose. The overwhelming beeping and pounding subsided as he cradled his now throbbing face in his free hand.

“Fuck!” he shouted at an empty room. As he cradled his now throbbing face in his free hand, the too-familiar taste of metal seeps from his nose and down the back of his throat. 

“That...is the first time I have seen someone make it through those restraints.” a voice came from the far corner in the room by the door. A doctor had been standing in the shadows the whole time like some villain emerging from the shadows in movies. “Patrick Hodges?”

“Nope. Wrong guy,” he said as he spit on the floor. “He’s down the hall. Real asshole, that one.”

“I see. Well, then I suppose I should go and let that guy know that he was going to be released today.” She turned and began toward the door. 

“Ok, then who are you? And can we please skip all this back and forth- I’m tired and want to go home.”

“And stubborn too. Looks like you have been in and out of hospitals more times than I care to count. This isn’t even your whole file- this is only the part that would fit onto this clipboard.” she said. “My name is Dr. Mary White. I’m a different kind of doctor, one that can possibly help you to-”

“Just stop right there.” he interrupted, holding up his free hand. “I don’t want help. Not from you or anyone else here. Help has gotten me nothing but more years on his fucking planet and I want off!” he began to pull at the other strap. 

“Ok,” she said with a shrug. “Don’t you at least what to hear what I have to say?”

“Only if it has something to do with me going home,” he replied. 

“You can either come with me, hear what I have to say or you can stay here, in this room, until you die- which I understand would be an awfully...long...time,” she smirked. 

“Fine. Fuck it. It’s better than being doped up for the next hundred years.”

“Or more. You see, Mr. Hodges-” she began. 

“Patrick.” he interrupted as he finally undid the other strap holding his arm against the bed. 

“Patrick, the thing is. I am the kind of doctor that can take your powers-”

“I prefer ‘abilities’. It’s not like I’m some superhero.” He began to work on the leg restraints.

“That’s where we disagree, Patrick.” She adjusted her glasses. “No matter how you view yourself, you can, indeed, be a superhero to countless people.”

Patrick shot her a sideways look as he undid the final strap, rubbing the swelling around his ankles.

“Your pow...I mean, abilities, can answer questions about aging, stem cells, bone maturity, and countless other medical disorders.” 

He could see the excitement in her eyes and feel the hope she spoke of for these people. 

Patrick sighed and reluctantly, he lifted his eyes to meet hers, “Fine.”

Dr. Mary hopped a bit in place from excitement. She cleared her throat in an attempt to recompose herself, blushing as she knew Patrick had seen her brief moment of joy.

“I see. Well, Patrick. Let’s get you some clothes and get you out of here.”

After an incredibly long car drive, slamming car doors startles Patrick awake. Dr. Mary opened the door. “This will be, in a sense, your new home.”

“Looks cozy” he replied as his eyes adjusted to the light. Although he didn’t know exactly where he was, due to his lengthy nap, he could surmise from the lack of humidity and red sand blowing around his feet, it was somewhere out West. Before he was escorted inside the windowless building, Patrick caught a glimpse of the large stone sign. 

“Did that say experimental?” he asked. 

“Oh, that. You don’t need to worry about that. That’s just what they call facilities when they can't wrap their brains around the work that we do.” she said nonchalantly. 

Her red hair, curled around her face in the breeze and Patrick thought of his mother. 

He remembered holding his mother's crippled body as he hugged her close to his chest, careful not to crush her skull in his hands. He yelled at the heavens above, begging for him to be the one that goes. His tears rained on his mother’s face as she assured him that he was loved before surrendering to her wounds. She never would have died if he hadn’t lost his temper and punched out the support beam under the beach house, crushing her underneath. He shook off these memories and caught up with the small entourage. 

Inside the building, they passed door after door down a seemingly unending hallway. Patrick stole quick glances inside some of the rooms through the tiny glass windows. He spied some hospital beds with comatose-like bodies. Through others, he recognized what people looked like when they weren’t exactly happy to be where they were. In an attempt to break the eye contact into their glazed gazes, he turned his attention to the placards on their doors. 

Trial 178, Trial 180, Trial 182. Patrick looked up to make sure Dr. Mary didn’t see his inquisitive looks, afraid she could read the thoughts of unease on his face. He kept his eyes forward so as not to see into anyone else’s lack of privacy and fishbowl of a life. He was all too familiar with that feeling of being trapped. 

“You know, you never really did tell me what it is we are going to be doing.” he tried to sound more curious than cautious. 

“Well, I would have, but you passed out as soon as we got into the car.” she sounded annoyed by his all of sudden interest. 

Finally, they reached the end of the hallway where Dr. Mary entered her code on a keypad. When the locks were released, she held the door open for Patrick and they entered a stark and sterile room. Like a kid on his first day of school, Patrick gets the feeling of awe and anxiety. They entered a dome-shaped room with hundreds of computers, wires, and devices that looked like what he imagined the space station would have.

“Well, I’d like to know now,” he said more firmly. “Are those the people, the people down the hall, that I will be helping?”

“Perhaps.” she said dismissively as she busied herself with preparations.“If it's alright with you, Patrick. I would like to get started right away.” she said as she worked to flip switches and feed power into the many machines surrounding a single dental chair.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m really tired. Do you think we could start tom-” as he spoke, two of the orderly troops from the hospital pulled Patrick backward into the chair, titanium shackles grasping his arms, legs, and torso, keeping him in place.

“What the hell!?” he shouted, thrashing and twisting his skin under the metal. “What is this? I thought you were going to help me!” He grunted as he attempted to channel his energy into prying the metal cuffs off of him. He had success with leather but the metal was a different story.

As she turned another knob, the overhead light above Patrick came on and glared in his eyes. For a moment, he paused and squinted.

“That’s right,” she said calmly. “I am going to help you. I am going to give you everything you want.” She continued to work on the machines without looking up. 

“How the fuck do you know what I want?” he spit as he screamed at her, still struggling to get free.

“Have you really not figured it out yet?” she says, with an almost chuckle under her tone. “ I show up and offer to grant your wishes like a goddamn genie?” She turned another knob, punched another button, and turned to face him. “And what do I get? Huh?” Snapping her fingers, she continued, “Oh that’s right- I will be helping millions of people to cheat death, injury, and aging. I will be the hero. It’s my name they will have on their lips. I will be the topic of their children’s’ storybooks that are read to them before they fall asleep.”

“You can’t hold me. You know nothing about me or what I can do.” he snarled. 

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” she turned to face him now. “I have been watching you for a long time, Patrick. That time you hurt your poor mother?”

Patrick froze in his endeavor to escape. “That was...I didn’t mean to. I-”

“She was rushed to the same hospital where you were admitted 15 years later. It was my father who treated her for a broken jaw, nose, and a torn rotator cuff. He was the only doctor there that believed your mother’s fear of what you would grow up to become without the proper guidance. He was able to study you. He was fascinated with your rapid bone regeneration, slowed growth, and what he referred to as ‘super’ strength. He was obsessed with you. You may not remember because you were so young, but when my father finally saw what you were capable of when you became angry or overwhelmed, well... he knew he had to harness it. That was until you lost control in the therapy room and inadvertently killed him. It was after his death that I realized I was the only one that could continue his work. Instead of studying and observing your behaviors and abilities, I resolved to take it and sell it to the highest bidder.”

Patrick could feel the pressure around his eyes growing. The light beating down on him helped to raise his temperature and heightened his awareness.

“I made it my life's work to complete what my father started. Thankfully for me, a lot of the footwork was already meticulously detailed in his notes. The last part of the freakshow puzzle was to find you and convince you to come with me, which was disappointingly easy. You know, after I read about your super strength, I came prepared for a fight.”

Patrick closed his eyes. The beeping of a nearby machine provided a constant, monotone beat. The doctor’s words began to fade as she continued.

“This is the way we both get what we want. Based on your several suicide attempts, I know what it is you want. I can relieve you of your physical life here so that you can’t hurt the people around you any longer. You will live on in the beauty and art that is medical science. You will be my greatest achievement.” She jutted her chin up, signaling to the orderlies to begin their part of the transaction.

With tears streaming down his face. It was true he wanted to leave the planet before he could hurt someone else he loved, but he had never heard anyone but himself admit it out loud. The shadow of the troops loomed over his body as they stuck the needle in his neck. He could see his only girlfriend, begging with him to step away from the bridge. Promising to stay with him and help him through the unrelenting pain. He could see her new cast underneath her partly worn coat; another present from him trying to love her. He could feel the warmth from the contents of the syringe serum trickle down his chest. Dr. Mary crouched next to the chair. She pushed the blonde strands off of his wet cheeks. “No one else gets hurt, you get to leave these painful memories behind forever, I can become the one that lives forever in fame.”

The warmth spread to his groin and thighs. He didn’t have the strength to fight this fight anymore. His head hung to his chest, he focused on his breathing and that fucking beeping.

The warmth spread to his feet and the familiar fog reached his brain. He laid his head back and breathed. She waved her hand above her head and signaled to the orderlies that she could take it from here and they exited.

“That’s it, just relax” she purred.

Patrick mumbled something. Unable to hear, Dr. Mary put her face close to his ear. 

“What did you say, dear?” she said in a soothing voice. 

“Thank you.” he breathed. Dr. Mary reached over to silence the machines at the push of a button. 

“No, my dear. Thank you.” she reached up to gently move the hair away from his face. A screech of metal rang in her ears as her wrist was captured and pulled away from Patrick’s face. Dr. Mary’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what was happening. By the time the orderlies heard her screaming, punched in the code, and opened the door, Patrick was there to greet them. 

“Hey, boys,” was all he was able to get out before the two beefy men turned and ran. Patrick clicked his tongue, “Aw. That wasn’t much fun…”

 Patrick paused in the doorway and took in the sight of the practically eternal hallway of people. With a deep breath, he silently vowed to begin again. He may not have been able to save everyone he had hurt before, but he couldn’t throw away what he had and let that monster of a woman steal others’ lives away. He reached the door labeled “Trial 198” and turned the knob.