The Emergence

Light flickered into Kan’s awareness. His head pounded. His muscles ached. The pulse of his heart could be felt in his neck all the way to his knees. He pressed his eyelids together then peeled them open.

The brightness of the room pervaded, crawling into the back of his eye sockets like a worm into an apple. He closed his eyelids then took a deep breath. The air that entered his lungs rattled in an unnatural way, telling him that something changed.

Kan swallowed a swell of panic as he tried to recall where he was. His mind was a jumbled mess. Thoughts drifted past him as if a raging stream. He tried to latch onto one but it faded into a cloud of emotions. A sob caught in his throat, his chest pounding as he struggled to exhale at a measured pace.

He needed to think, to be reasonable. Last he could recall he was in the lab. He came in for his check-in and then…

A tremor ran through his nerves as a curtain of dread closed the window to his thoughts. His eyes snapped open and he squinted.

The white color of the room aided the intensity of the lights but from where he lay—prone on a bed—Kan could tell that he was still within the lab. The ceiling was the same as before, so were the walls. His eyes gravitated to the bank of windows where human men and women in lab coats stood with Partwo and watched him.

The glint in their gazes disturbed him, as did the feeling that he missed something important. He lifted an arm to shade his eyes—or rather he tried to lift an arm. A thick band secured his wrist to the frame. There was one about his right and one on his left. They felt tight—almost constricting. Straps were also fastened about his ankles, biceps, and torso.

His breath hitched. Unease swelled in his gut.

Kan looked away from the observers and squirmed, but the leather did not give. He peered down his nose. The tip of it was darker and longer than he remembered. He flexed his fingers and could hear the bones crack as if he stayed in the cold too long. A sick feeling churned the depth of his stomach.

It can’t be.

He jostled the bed, twisting from side to side. But the bands did not break. Nor did those beyond the window seem startled by his response. A roar rumbled in his throat before it left his mouth. It was deep and melodious like a caged animal showing disapproval.

Kan’s eyes went wide. He tipped his head to the side trying to see down his arm to his hand—anything that could assure him the worst had not occurred. The vision of his limb, however, stole his breath.

The clothes he wore upon entering the lab were gone. In their place was a hospital gown. The short sleeves ended just beyond his shoulder and exposed the truth. Kan gulped.

Not only was the size and sculpting of his arm different, but the color and texture of his skin. It was not as thick or muscular as what most Partwo possessed, but neither was it as deep a purple. The tint was lighter, the cracks across his skin less pronounced. Clearly he had begun to change, but either the human part of him prevailed in some way or the process was not complete.

No, no, no.

Kan swallowed against the knot in his throat. Partwo DNA was too strong to be swayed by his weak humanity. It was too domineering to be stopped and would soon overwrite….

No!

Kan blinked at his arm in a whirl of panic. The worst had happened—was happening. He was turning into one of them. He would become one of them. No longer would he be himself but a vile representation of something different—something spliced from two species that were never meant to coexist.

Dread took hold of him with sharp teeth and Kan shook. Tears welled in his eyes. Like a scared rabbit, the speed of his heart increased and thumped its way from his chest into his skull.

I’m no longer human. I’m no longer human. I’m no longer…

He wanted to scream. He wanted to break free and start throwing things. There they all stood watching him from afar, taking notes, and making judgments. Not a single one of them was in here with him and not one of them would ever be in his place.

Kan pulled against the restraints, growling as he twisted in vain. He could feel the muscles in his arms and legs tighten but they were too new and still developing. They pulsed with a mixture of strength and weakness, their increased size uncoordinated within his control.

Kan arched his back against the strap on his chest. Fear made him gasp. He was going to be sick. He was going to hurl from knowing what they did to him.

I never even had a choice.

His gaze moved to those observing. Hatred roiled his gut before a wave of pain gripped his stomach. He groaned through clenched teeth, swallowing bile as his insides mutated.

Within his abdomen, Kan could feel things shift then resettle. He panted through the change of pressure, the reordering of his internal organs. He hurt—all of him—every single muscle and joint screamed in protest.

Then the pain dissipated and he went limp. His head lulled. His body pulsed with his polluted blood.

Across the room the door opened. Two men with tasers stepped inside then remained by the door as O crossed the room. Kan bit his lip. It was thicker than before. Even his tongue felt too large within his mouth. He rotated his head to other side of the bed as the Partwo stopped next to him.

“How do you feel?” O’s voice remained even and unchanged as always.

Kan scoffed. This was all routine to them—all of it science and experiments. Casualties were expected so his personal feelings were not what mattered. They just wanted to document side effects, his mental health, and whether or not he would be cooperative.

“Kan.”

“Kan.”

The second time Kan heard his name it was softer and more robust. It retained a fullness that echoed in his head rather than his ears. Kan narrowed his eyes as he pressed his lips together.

“I know you can hear me,” the voice continued.

Kan sealed his lips, fighting the urge to look back at one of those responsible for his situation.

“How do you feel?”

The words were spoken again and Kan rolled his head so he could gaze up at O.

The Partwo stood with his arms folded across his broad chest. He wore the same clothes as before but his dark hair now hung loose about his face. His drab expression was ever-present and unreadable.

Kan felt his brow scrunch as he glanced past O to those taking notes.

“What do you want me to say?” He licked his lower lip. The words were familiar and accurate to what he intended but they felt wrong. They sounded wrong. The tone of his voice was deeper than before and held a husky edge. He sounded like his grandfather—or what he imagined his grandfather would sound like if he actually had one.

Kan coughed to clear his throat but there was nothing to clear. His voice changed and would no longer have that youthful edge that sounded like what he considered was his voice—that sounded human. He gagged on the thought, the reality of his position ratcheting his anxiety. He began to shake.

O glanced over his shoulder at their audience then turned back. He blinked his solid black eyes.

“Breathe.”

Kan tried to follow O’s advice but it felt as if his whole world folded into a narrow tunnel instead of expanding into a new universe. He didn’t want this—any of it. He just wanted to be who he was, as he was before, not this new version of him.

“Breathe.”

Kan forced an exhale then cringed. Tremors raced along his arms and legs. More change was on the way, more pain, and the loss of who he was as a person—as a human being.

I don’t want this. I never wanted this.

He cringed through the pain that ventured from the back of his calves into his heels. It caused each foot to cramp and his toes to curl. His muscles seized.

Kan pinched his eyes shut. He did not have the stamina or desire to endure more of this. He didn’t want to think about what this would mean for him—for his future. Kan choked on the thought. What future? What future could there possibly be for me now?

Exhaustion pulled at him even as the physical alterations continued in his system. With renewed vigor it drew everything from him, all his focus and fight. His groan turned to a gasp then a gag.

He rolled his head back so he could stare at the ceiling. Spots darkened his vision. Then O stepped closer to the bed, his dark gaze roving the restraints.

Kan’s brow furrowed. How did he know that O gauged the restraints? There was nothing in those black orbs that showed where the Partwo looked. There was no iris or pupil to follow, so how did he know? And what did his eyes look like now? Were they the same deep pools of darkness or some horrific mix that displayed the terror he felt?

He shivered as the realization of what took place in him returned. A sob eked its way past his teeth. His fists clenched and in the center of either palm and he could feel the nails that were turning to claws.

A tear slipped free. Then another. Kan pressed his eyes closed as pain gripped his back and sides. He wanted to die. He wanted to die a half-human mutant than completely lose all trace of his humanity and become something else—a monster, a freak, a mockery of who he was before and never would be again.

He blinked at O through bleary eyes.

“I am sorry.”

Kan spewed a bitter laugh.

“You must hang on. You must survive.”

The words echoed through Kan’s awareness. If only he possessed the ability to control such things. If only he could choose to be who he wanted instead of being forced to become something else.

Unable to swipe the tears away, Kan ignored the tracks they made down his cheeks. His current state seemed to matter little to the Partwo so why should he care that he was a mess? His whole body was an evolving mess.

Pain shot up his spine and he wheezed through it. It was followed by a second and third bout that left him twitching. Kan sputtered before going rigid. His groan lengthened until the pinch in the bottom of his skull ate away his strength.

He sagged into the sheets. Sweat and body odor scented the air. His head throbbed from whatever poison pulsed through him.

O leaned over him. “Hold on.”

Yet Kan was too far beyond those words for their meaning to make any sense. He did not want to live anymore, to be this new person that was being formed, this new version of Kan.

He sniffed. That name no longer meant anything to him because it was not him. That Kan died and right now—whoever he was becoming—wanted nothing more than to follow that ghost into the depth and never return.