• The air in the room held tension. Doubt and fear rose up despite the calm.
    Two men stood with their backs facing the windows of the lab, they’re gloved hands reaching for trays and vials. This was the day that their efforts were given reward. Success, with all of its attributions was near. The grey haired scientist lifted up a syringe, and began filling it with a clear liquid, its mass seeping down the side of the container like molasses. He was sealing it now.
    “ Have you stopped and thought about it yet, Henry? We’re on the verge of a new age. These past years seemed endless, but we finally got results, ” He chuckled to himself. It seemed strange not having a looming goal anymore. They, were however, not entirely sure it would work, and if it didn’t, it would be back to sleepless hours of research and testing. Months.

    “ True, but doesn’t mean we don’t have more work afterwards. The first experiment is always the worst, we’ll need to edit the effects again, Daniel.” Henry’s heart sunk. He was right. What would they do if it didn’t even work? Creating the perfect human had been difficult, after all, and it could had easily been too difficult. His doubt overrode his mind and his hand shook. The details of the superhuman abilities were nasty. The exact amount of cells used to create the fire throwers hands had been particularly excruciating. He shook his head. This would work. It had to. Daniel readied the syringe. He waved in an intern and told her to get the volunteer.


    The volunteer was strapped to the table, her hands out off the side like wings. Henry pushed the syringe’s needle into the sleeping woman’s arm pressing it in until it wouldn’t go any farther. The woman tensed than relaxed, showing no other obvious symptoms. Henry’s shoulders drooped.
    “Damn. Lets just wait and see then.” He exhaled. The two scientists left the room with the intern, waiting for later to check back on the progress of the woman.
    In the night, the woman’s hair began to shrink and shrivel. Her eyes dilated and her skin became a sickly yellow. Her back tensed and a wail passed from her chapped lips. She ripped the straps off with her wrists, lifting them upwards and then untying her ankles. She threw herself over the side of the table and landed awkwardly on the linoleum floor. She straightened herself, and began to crawl in the shadows out into the hallways.

    She found herself creeping into doors, trying to find the people who did this to her. She felt wild. Voices in crept up on her ears, swirling around like the wind. But there were no people anywhere near her. They were in her head like ghosts. She began to whisper, then. To herself, and the voices.
    On her hands and knees, she traveled until she found light coming from a doorway. Laughing at them, she jumped in, hollering and screaming like an animal off its leash.
    She narrowed her yellowed eyes, and dove at the first scientist, snapping her wrist and watched a table slide on her command to crush his body. She leaped on its surface and leaped to the second man, pushed her palm to his chest, and yelled as the gravity caved in on his body and crashed over him. He fell over in a heap. She smiled a wicked grin, full of sharp and jagged teeth. The woman once known as Samantha ran into the corridors, whooping and cheering for the deaths of those who wronged her.