Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God

2/20/2008 7:12:02 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God In a time long past and well forgotten it all began. Men with a more deadly intent than they realized dabbled in things better left to Gods… "Hold that vial still, John." Rasmus steadied himself as he lifted a long dropper to add the secondary DNA into the trial coding. Stoppering the combination and placing the capped vial in the spinner. A readout flashed above on the right monitor and began ticking off the recumbent DNA strands as they combined. Both men watched with careful interest. Each previous trial had resulted in a decomposition of coding near the fifty eighth percentile. If they could just get past that error sector they could combine the separate strands successfully and a new breed would rise from the ashes, "Steady and holding." John looked over as Rasmus spoke in breathless tones. The monitor had just passed fifty nine and was still climbing. Had success been won finally? He almost forgot to breathe in the adrenalin rush of excitement that seemed premature. Afraid to look back as he heard the mechanical ticking that said the DNA strands were still climbing towards their goal. Aged scientists locked away by choice for tedious years of study and creation. His paling hues drifting past Rasmus as an almost insane smile began to spread his lips thin. In cages along the far wall some of their earlier attempts withered, slithered, and crawled. The soft moans of pain and admonishments from creatures damned from the beginning. Half lifes, Rasmus called them. No longer were they human, nor animal, nor even beasts in between, these genetic mutations by far worse than any freak show or circus caravan could offer. Barely recognizable as once being human, they exhibited hideous deformities. One was so cruelly misshapen he appeared almost turned inside out. Another was a headless mouth of rowed teeth in gaping monstrosity, their bodies fusing in parts or undeveloped entirely. What right had they to tamper with creation? Theological arguments had years before fallen to the wayside in lieu of 'the Greater Good' as Rasmus had called it. They had been charged with creating the 'Supreme' race. Fusing primary strands together while weeding out weak or arbitrary traits from the fused strands. The results were to be a stronger version of two separate wholes. Weeks had become months, months turning into years, still they continued the research. Funding had come from unusual sources. Once John had looked into these only to find dead ends in the guise of defunct businesses or dead heirs who'd contributed beyond what could easily be termed as generous and edged on the ridiculous side. The team was literally 'set for life' or until a successful termination of the program came. A soft chime brought his aged gaze back around. Narrowing in disbelief at what he was seeing there in pixilated clarity on the monitor. They'd found a viable code. Rasmus' soft guffaw of pleasure verified he wasn't losing his mind to senility. They'd actually done it! They'd combined two radically different strands into one that was currently holding and stable. "Give it twenty four hours and we'll start phase two." He looked up as Rasmus spoke. A calm air overcame his partner in crime. Rasmus was always the more pragmatic of the two while John bordered on maudlin. He was hard pressed not to rush haphazard to the other machines to begin testing their theory now. He issued a slight whine of frustration as he grudgingly agreed. They'd need to see if it could hold together long enough to be viable. His right hand dropped subconsciously to the front of his jacket. Tucked safely in an inside pocket was his personal journal. He'd kept one since starting this despite warnings otherwise from the severe men who'd hired him. A breakthrough of this magnitude deserved to be documented closely and recorded for all the world to learn from. Rasmus noted the gesture disinterestedly as he switched off the machines for the night. Twenty four hours later he would return here alone to continue his work and look surprised as a new assistant appeared to replace an aging John who would pass peacefully in his sleep and how unfortunate that everything he owned was incinerated along with him as an untended cigarette would light his mattress afire. He wasn't psychic. He would be reporting back to their benefactors after retiring this night. Like his assistant before John, a mistake was not handled well, nor was disobedience and the punishment was swift. Specific instructions were given and expected to be followed. John was a loose end in a business where these were frowned upon and eliminated with extreme prejudice.
2/20/2008 7:12:44 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	Time would pass before it seemed the Gods would smile at their frivolity and allow men to see the foolishness in their ways… The small community seemed to be thriving as Rasmus walked amid the cobbled streets with a cane gripped tightly in his fist. So long had passed that John had become a memory forgotten in the annals of old age and time. The people he passed bowed to him and smiled. "Grandfather," some of the newest younglings called out in greeting as they waved to him. He was not their progenitor by blood, but by something less binding and more clinical. He enjoyed knowing he was their 'God'. He was a simple mortal man, God to those who would forever be immortalized…in more ways than one. These walks he took among them in their small community was his own weakness, giving in to vanity and narcissism as he moved among his creations. They had been given blood, skin, hair, and bone fragments as samples from surviving (kindred, chylder, kine, so many aliases) vampire as samples at first. Later they were brought the kicking, screaming, begging, entire body to experiment upon. Their task was straining out the 'Curse' that made each line of each clan different and unique from its brothers and sisters. Thirteen clans in all were represented in the tests, the rebellious Brujah, the insane Malkavians, the horrific Nosferatu, the roguish Gangrel, the political Ventrue, the assassinating Assamite, the organized Tremere, the artistic Toreador, the fleshcrafting Tzimisce, the serpentine Setite, the Machiavellian LaSombra, the outcast Ravnos, and the merchandising Giovanni all took part in the experiments, most without their having given consent. Some of the clans offered samples, but when time came to procure purer DNA through live, or a facsimile of living, test subjects most balked and refused. A few disappeared altogether from active circulation, but the test subjects came. Whoever his benefactor was, a lot of power and influence had taken part in seeing this come to fruition. Dominant traits and tributes were selected from among the clans. A specific list of what was to be removed and what would remain as the 'stronger' from among their DNA strands. Out of these a combination was to be acquired. Exact sequences were defined then molded to fit a specific plan of action. They were to create a master race among the kindred. These new beings would range from various combinations to form a new clan of genetically hybrid kindred. This master race would carry all of the strengths and none of the weaknesses of their predecessors. Human 'guinea pigs' were brought in, but the primary source for new bodies to work with came from cloning, assistants and scientists alike had submitted samples of their own upon joining the team and theirs were among those used for the new creations. Much like the DNA strands refined from the kindred, each human strand was separated and refined as well. Infirmities and faults were removed. Traits that were dominant or recessive were selected in each of these to provide different results in the final product so that no two new results were identical. Into these humans and clones alike was added the new strands, infecting some with the curse outright while others carried it as a more recessive gene. Of those that were immediately affected most suffered various forms of insanity or mutation and eventually needed to be 'put down'. A young man that was quickly ostracized around the complex handled these procedures with a kind of manic glee that often struck fear in those who were unaware of his talents. Those who carried it as a recessive gene seemed to fare far better. Long years of study followed as aging was increased within some test subjects to determine the rates of change and what took place within them. Rasmus was well past being an octogenarian three times over at this point, his benefactors gifting him with a form of immortality of his own as a gift for his loyalty in service to them. Oddly enough, should he realize it, they had made him much like the test subjects he had created. These creations had become his life, in more ways than one. Preliminary studies on them in early childhood years (Yes, they tested on cloned and human children including newborns as older ones gave birth through artificial insemination.) showed primarily human characteristics. The subjects were stronger, faster, smarter, and evidenced extended stamina and lifespans. They reacted off the charts to stress tests, high density tests, and remarkably rapid healing and regenerative qualities when injured. Oddly, they seemed to undergo a transformation at puberty. A coming of age, so to speak, that evidenced a change in basic brain wave patterns. One subject described it as 'shared memories' while another termed it more aptly as 'the time of knowing'. Whatever the change was it increased intelligence, speed, performance, body mass, strength, and healing properties to beyond the registered kindred levels. This became, in layman's terms, the first transformation. As the community grew they began to be able to assist more willingly in the studies as a group. The more mature coming forth with information that was soon documented of the second transformation, this varied from subject to subject though. It seemed to come hand in hand with their first 'feeding' or kill. The blood from another ingested through their system via elongated canines would transform the recessive kindred genes from their blood into dominant markers, much like a latent form of diabetes or any other human malady that waited patiently in the bloodstream before coming forth to make a nuisance of itself. Many stated the onset of this transformation as a 'hunger' or a deep sense of loss or emptiness within them that only one thing seemed to satiate. Unlike other kindred though, few shared their inability to tolerate light, UV rays or otherwise. Becoming unable to bear further young and requiring blood for sustenance seemed the only drawbacks to this transformation. The third and final transformation in this new breed came at 'death'. Not the temporary, clinical deaths where hearts stopped and consciousness seemed to disappear for those undergoing the second transformation became dead, or undead, as the case may be. This third transformation took place once the being reached what other kindred would've described as their 'final death'. Instead of becoming ash or dust or simply lying down on a slab, this new breed would 'transcend', their spirits becoming more as their bodies became less. Like unto a poltergeist or a very talented ghost, these beings were as functional and mobile in death as they were in life, vocal and talented, a control of 'dark arts' coming to surface as the mind took over where the body left off. They had indeed created a superior race to kindred though a heavy debate arose as to whether these new beings, while created from kindred, were actually kindred at all.
2/20/2008 7:13:47 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	In success we find defeat… A single subject had been watched for some time. Her growth was not tampered with, using her as a pure test to compare against those that had been chronologically increased or altered through age cloning processes. She was a vibrant child, full of life and buoyant as balloon on a summer breeze. She'd been born through the Chrarteaur line, the first child not inseminated into its mother's womb. Her lineage was the cross pollination of Nosferatu and Malkavian, obsessively intellectual beings that preferred an absence of emotional reaction. She was the apple of the collective eye though with her bold disregard for controlled intellect. She was chaos in a sundress and her laughter was infectious even among the sterner adults of her 'family'. She would follow Rasmus about tugging at his coat tails and teasing him with a grin and an outstretched palm for sweets. She would later be the downfall of the entire project, but that was in the future and far from her initial days of happy laughter and freedom. The community followed old traditions, arranged marriages and clannish tendencies towards one man ruling each familial group. The combined strands seemed to call like to like, as the clans had separated, so did this new race break off into segregated groups. The girl had been promised to a youth a few years her elder. As she began to develop into her teenage years, this young man already once transformed took it upon himself to begin urging her to experiment with premature sexuality. Unprepared for his advances, which became more forceful and violent with continued denial, she began to become unpredictable. Withdrawing from all male contact was the first noticeable sign of a growing problem between the two. Then one day the boy simply was no more. Outside influences had begun to seep in and problems were arising for the benefactors. Keeping a large community completely isolated was primary among these. As search teams were being readied to allocate the missing boy an alarm began to sound. All families knew this alert, as did Rasmus. A holding facility called the 'Homsphere' was opened and single file all the created beings were led. Cryogenic holding cells lined walls ten stories high. Machines lifted filled pods into place as computers tracked and monitored each being in placement and estimated awakening time. To maintain a controlled program and minimize bad publicity the test was being shut down temporarily to be resumed once things had cooled off for the benefactors. Even Rasmus would be isolated into a pod. The girl had slipped off during the summoning to finish hiding the evidence of her crime against the young man. Crimson stains on her dress were rubbed with mud to disguise the darker intent behind them. She fell in line behind another family and gave a name she'd heard only in passing as her own, a fatal flaw that would later cost many their lives as she stepped into place and was frozen along with the rest of the new breed.
2/20/2008 7:14:03 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	Nearly a century would pass and a program from history was reactivated from 'dead' files… The team that was lowering pods and reopening them began with those marked as the mature heads of the families. The contents of the pods were unknown to them until each pod was actually opened and the newly awakened leader could verbally verify his or her status and records. Through linking within the pods, memories and updated information recorded in advance could be uploaded in a manner back into the roused brains of each being. Through faulty records from a name that was not her own, the teenager was awakened among the first lot. No advance recording uploaded, only white noise went in, leaving her mind wiped virtually clean as if from amnesia. The defensive insanity of the Malkavian blood and the intellectual outmaneuvering of the Nosferatu made her an unexpected surprise when the pod was opened. Bursting with feral intent from the opened pod, she slammed fingertips into the chest of the waiting attending and ripped wide her ribcage. Wires and gauges were stripped in yanking protest from her body even as she leapt into the chest of another attendant rushing to aid the first. Her sleight weight carried both back to the hard floor. Interlocking her fingers into the hair just above each ear, she held tight as she raised and lowered the head, bashing the skull into the solidity of the floor until rewarded with a sickening crunch and the body beneath her went still. In retrospect the benefactors would readily agree that they should have kept the elders present to assist the newly awakened, but they had not. Even as pleas from attendants tried to calm her, she rushed past them blindly. Searching sterile hallways until she found an exit that led her back out into fresh air, sunshine, and more importantly, escape. The entire project was put on red alert, the alarms behind her frightening her into bolting. The few elders already awake were left so in the hopes she may be brought back in one day, but after many months of searching with specially trained teams, she seemed lost and the rest of the project stayed in cryopods until she could eventually be located and returned. She lived like a street urchin, begging food and stealing when she was able. She had yet to undergo the first transformation, thus the second remained out of reach as well, forcing her to live out of garbage cans on the discards of humans when such a ready supply of sustenance was right within reach. A man found her this way, rummaging through a trash dumpster nearly twice her size, her legs dangling spindle-like over the edge. One bare foot was grasped in a grip fairly admirable for one of his advanced age. Like a startled rat, she began to squeal and turned to fold double upon herself as if to come for him. Something about him triggered a hint of a memory beyond the white noise though. Was it the white hair or the way he smiled or maybe the gnarled look of his knuckles as his fingers curled around her ankle? Whatever it was, as he introduced himself as Rasa and released her ankle to offer his hand to her, she smiled and thrust a palm out at him. The childhood gesture of begging for sweets was not unfamiliar to him either and she was rewarded with a single piece of toffee. While her people remained in stasis save the few released before her, she moved on and gained a new family. Her life previously remained a blur of static that only opened up in hints garnered from her dreams, while awake though she became a fixture at the side of the old man's son. She quickly earned the family's trust with her unshakeable loyalty and ever vigilant nature. They could tell she was different for they themselves were different too. Sebias, Rasa to his oldest friends, decided to keep her as one of his own and later as she grew, sent her to join his son, Thomas, in an old man's attempt to teach one humility and patience and the other manners and politics. Oddly, she grew to be like a kid sister to him, at least in her eyes, as she followed him about and tried to become like him so she could make Sebias proud of her while watching over him to make sure his temper didn't get him hurt. A grudging friendship soon began to unfold as the two realized they had more in common than either had first been willing to admit. An undernourished amnesiac and a gruff barbarian of a man made an unlikely pair as they set off together to parts unknown. From here, the rest is history in the annals of Historic Archives. While no narrator can put 'the end' here, although many may secretly wish this were the last of the two who journeyed forth together, there is no end. This is... ...only the beginning.
2/20/2008 7:14:36 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	And unto them a child was born... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "The documents grow vague at this point. Can you explain the cause of this?" The young technician slid a rather large file across the metal table towards Rasmus. Frowning at the old man as he sought to direct his attention to the tip of his finger against rows of typing and scrawled subnotes in tiny, precise blocks along the edges. A careful review had been ordered to attempt to locate the missing childre and force her return to the project. To find her, first they must know her, and within these files was their only link to the missing girl. "You'll see there was much to document at that time. The first live, un-inseminated birth from the breeding of two living subjects required most of my attention. By the time I got back to the labs, most of it was no longer fresh in my mind. There are accompanying recordings taken and submitted with the records for further documentation of those events. It should all be there." The old man had been well preserved from his own 'experimental' additions. He had often wondered if he had his own case files or was simply a part of the ongoing project. Access to old files had long been denied him now so he could only guess at this as he looked to the younger man who was part of the replacement team. Advances in technology had made old ways almost obsolete. Trying to wade through thick files and addendums was a painstaking process. The young man rubbed briefly at the bridge of his nose with thumb and index fingers then slid the hand flat to brush up across a military style bristling of short hairs across the crown of his head. He was the new crop. Rasmus sized him up visually from across the table. Strong, smart, well trained, possibly even officer material, but he would never find the girl. Rasmus almost smiled at this, knowing their clinical militia training was useless in this case. They needed him and hated it. He tried to look sympathetic as the man slid a tape recorder closer and pushed the button to start playback. His memories replaying the event inside his head. At the first screams of childbirth contractions, his eyes glazed and the young man left him to listen as he relived the past. Hoping some clue might come from the old man yet. She bucked back so hard the table rocked unsteadily. Panting and flushed as she looked over to the man at her side. Sweat glistened on her skin as her hair matted flatly to her features. Dark and exotic, she was one of the more beautiful women in the community, her mate an almost moorish man of distinguishing characteristics. He took her hand, olive skin to dark mocha, and brought it tenderly to his lips. The shared genetic traits of both visible in the calm way their eyes met as he lifted his head. They were Chrarteaur. A frightening combination of intellect, beaty, and insanity. Rasmus watched them from between outspread thighs, curtained from their shared moment by a cloth draped over upraised knees. He'd been integral in their creation, but he often wondered at the exact lines he'd been hired to create. The genetic traits combined had been deadly and effective. Ventrue/Assamites, Gangrel/Ravnos, Tremere/Tzimisce, and the like, political assassins, rogue outcasts, plotting fleshcrafters, but the worst yet was the blend that lay here giving birth right now. Continuing a line created to reign supreme over the rest of the genetic anomalies he had given life to, Malkavian/Nosferatu. Had he higher morals he may have felt guilt or remorse for what he had knowingly unleashed upon the world. He was hired not for his morality though, but rather his lack thereof. The head was crowning as she strained up to push once more. Her cries a herald to the growing community of their assured growth and life and outside a cheer of raised voices encouraged the woman and helped her through this very humbling process. Rasmus slid his fingers under the veined skull wet with blood and matter, holding it tenderly as it made its first fateful journey out into the waking world. Shoulders following through the tight canal of the T1 female. He had defined a code to mark the transformation processes within the lines. T and T1s were the only ones capable of reproduction at this point. Strausdeaur, a T2 in this line, leaned across as the child slid finally free to assist in cutting the cord and clearing its breathing passages. The child was turned over and a resounding slap to the tiny buttocks produced a healthy squall of sound that warbled up from its lungs only to become almost immediately drowned in the wave of cheers and whistles that rose in decibels outside the small room. "It's a girl." Rasmus announced to the young couple. Lifting the still coated babe high enough to be seen. A shared glance of knowing passed between the parents before they looked to their newborn. Rasmus had only a moment to wonder if perhaps an undocumented trait had surfaced when the father's voice distracted him. "Teaurtei." The name spoken in the thick tones of the moorish man. Naming the child even as he stepped over to take him from the hands of their progenitor. "The first." They had come to naming themselves, as if from some forgotten tongue, and Rasmus had allowed this small boon finding it interesting, but harmless. In later years he would come to regret not researching this choice further, but in this time of celebration and discovery it had seemed small and harmless. A tape recorder ran in the corner for posterity as the child was taken and tested. She rated well on the APGAR and was soon cleaned and returned to her mother's arms for her first feeding. Clinical stats spoken in soft tones as the mother and child began to bond. The playback was cut off with a soft click and the young man waited for the haze to clear from the older man's eyes before continuing. "Well..." "She wasn't the first." Rasmus paused to bring a kerchief up to wipe at his eyes. Blowing his nose into it before explaining. "She was the only one."
2/20/2008 7:15:15 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	Days of sunshine... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The young man's chair slid along the tiled floor with a distinctive scraping sound. The type of sound that jangles the nerves and sets your teeth on edge, rather like nails drawn down a chalkboard. Rasmus' features wrinkled in a wince though he tried hard to keep from reacting to it. The young man was restless. A notable trait in those still trying to make a name for themselves, impatient to find clues that they prayed others had missed. Believing their eyes alone to be fresh to the subject, they often thought those that had passed before foolish and that a solution could be found by simple deductive process, not hard work. Rasmus stereotyped his interrogator and actually found himself feeling sorry for him. "There were no others. No further free borns. Just her." Rasmus continued his explanation of the cryptic sentence prior that had earned him a look of disgusted impotence and the scraping of the chair. Leaning forward in his own, he let his elbows rest upon the metal table. His hands clasped loosely together on the cool surface as he stroked the pad of one thumb over the knuckles of the other. Musing now as his mind grasped at the traces of memories floating around in its age-muddled depths. "And she was indescribable." Looking down at his own hands he smiled. A peaceful smile of remembering as his gaze grew hazy once more. The young man leaned down to look into the old man's features as they fell lax in reminiscing and as he rose gave an exasperated gesture into a two way mirror. The day was warm as Rasmus walked through his memories. Leaves falling in the warmth of early autumn when he'd felt the first tug at his coattails. Thinking it just the ill fit of his suit he lifted his cane to hook over his forearm, straightened his lapels, and then took the cane back in hand to continue on. Another tug halting his step. Turning slowly to look behind him he was surprised when none seemed apparent in his shadow at first until by slowly lowering his gaze he located a grinning culprit with eyes shining and cheeks flushed and dimpled with hands tucked innocently into the folds of a little prim dress. "I remember you." He teased as he used his cane for support and slowly lowered himself closer to the wee bit of a girl. He pulled a piece of candy from his pocket and offering it out to her he began a ritual between them that would follow into her teenage years, in fact until the very last time he'd see her. In the years that would follow that dimpled smile charmed him out of bits of candy, gifts, and more hugs than any man could rightly lay claim to. The child was beloved in a way none other had ever been. She was such an enigma of chaos and quick wit that she'd soon charmed even the most hard core pessimists among the community. By the age of five her family had been approached by many other heads of lines with lucrative offers of arranged marriage, seeing her as a valuable asset from the beginning. There was an easiness about her that gave a sense of lulling to those within the range of her charm. Biased by his own ego, Rasmus missed this as a potential trait of her bloodline. Missing too the pleased exchange of secretive glances her parents would share when none others were looking. They were cultivating the child's natural abilities in private, trusting none for fear their child would be taken and spirited away into the laboratories where so many others had gone and never returned from. It was not that they doubted Rasmus' feelings for the child, they simply knew his level of commitment to the project and did not underestimate the lengths he would go to to preserve its integrity. Sunshine was kind to their olive skinned wonder and she grew in leaps and bounds, bringing a new unity to the community that had been absent before...hope. They were no longer simply an experiment to be dissected or examined at will. The human spirit began to thrive and with it came the unforeseen. Nothing is ever perfect nor can life be controlled and soon crime became a part of their lives. Brought about by the hands of a child. Rasmus drew himself back from happier memories. His gaze clearing as he looked to the impatient young man leaning into the two way looking glass. "She was engaged by ritual to one Salamir Vendreaur of the third branch of the Voreadeaur line. The boy's remains were unearthed two years after the awakening. I believe you have them in a vault still." Rasmus knew they had condemned the girl to death should they find her. The boy's bones, the dead lab techs, the cost of the search, compromising the project, it had all condemned her and as they kept him prisoner and took his life's work from him, he found himself clinging more and more to her as the last hope the way the community once had and in doing so he too began to keep secrets from this replacement crew of military throwbacks who sought to locate her only to destroy the bright spirit he'd seen within her to further their studies. "It wasn't her fault."
2/20/2008 7:39:05 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	Listening to his heart... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "We found the weapon she used still embedded in his chest. His gdamd skull had been cracked open like an over ripe melon! His blood was on her clothes!" The young man grew agitated as the tone of his voice rose. Stepping over to the table to slap his palms down on its surface so hard it moved the table back into Rasmus enough to make him sit more fully upright. "She literally gutted the boy at the age of fifteen and from the looks of it, not only was it premeditated, but she also hid the evidence which tells us she knew she'd committed a crime when she did it and you're trying to tell me it wasn't her fault?!?" Indignation colored Rasmus' cheeks, but he couldn't respond. He refused to let the young man badger him into believing the child was possibly evil. "What about those lab techs? I suppose next you'll be telling me it wasn't her f**king fault she shoved her fist into one or bashed in the brains of the other! Well?!?" Rasmus lowered his eyes from the man's anger. His cheeks darkening as he studied his hands now clasped in his lap. Wisely taking a few moments to find his composure before lifting his gaze back calmly to the young man. "Refraining from profanity and blasphemy is most appreciated, if you would." His eyes locked with the younger male's and for a moment it seemed that the young man would dive across the table to throttle him. Mottling appearing on his cheeks as his blood pressure rose visibly. A light tapping at the glass seemed to be Rasmus' saving grace and both men turned their heads towards the mirror. A tinny voice of a woman came through a speaker high on the wall. "The CEO requires your presence in his office." The young man hesitated then glared at Rasmus while walking over to the door. As he stepped out, an older, well dressed woman stepped in. Rasmus watched the changing of shifts with little change in his ex-pression. She crossed over and sat down across from him at the table. Rasmus was amply appreciative of the distinguished manner she carried herself, even the way her legs crossed just so. Leaning slightly to see her ankle delicately over the other with her foot curled back as a rightful lady would. He sat back up and relaxed almost visibly. Her voice was well modulated as she took over his interrogation. "According to our records you had more than ample contact with the child during her engagement to Salamir Vendreaur. Since you've remained persistent in defending the child's innocence in his resulting murder, perhaps you would care to elucidate further on the matter." An intense gaze riveted him as she slid her tongue over painted lips of perfection. Were he younger, Rasmus may have found her compelling, but now he simply took note of the controlled patience she exhibited much in the way the young man had let his reactions flow into unconscious action. "Yes, I would." He leaned casually forward. Looking directly into those mesmerizing eyes as he gathered his thoughts. Salamir had been nineteen when the ceremony joining the two in engagement had taken place. In six years he would be able to claim his bride in a second ceremony. The paragon of virtue in the eyes of most within the community and the girl had looked up to him adoringly, as only young girls with innocent crushes are capable of. They seemed full of promise and happiness and the boy soon became a frequent visitor at her home. Asking permission to take her out on walks or bringing her gifts and sitting to visit for long hours simply to be near her. Slowly earning the grudging trust of her parents and other watchful adults. Rasmus had been present often to see the two together, but he was more worried by the fact that no other pregnancies had followed this first. With the girl's parents finally moving into T2 status, they could no longer reproduce either. Whispered rumors began to abound among the community that she was more curse than blessing, but Rasmus continued tests and had yet to find a rational explanation for the failure to breed in this new species. Women inseminated in the clinical coldness of the laboratory began to miscarry within the first weeks of their second trimester. No fetus evolving far enough now for natural birthing. However with every loss, the girl would be there with baskets and flowers to comfort the women and bring hope back to the men. The women sometimes reported strange dreams prior to their miscarriages, a few disturbingly similar to others, but no connection was ever made between the child and the deaths of those fetuses, only rumors of superstitious curses that Rasmus spent long hours talking the community out of.
2/20/2008 7:39:36 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	It was early in the girl's fourteenth year when Salamir appeared with bruising about one side of his face. The rapid healing of these beings soon removed it, but not before Rasmus had noticed the markings. The young man explained an accident while swimming. Diving in headfirst into cloudy waters and the marks had faded before Rasmus could fully document them with pictures so the incident was passed off without being recorded as more than a footnote. The girl had exhibited no signs of distress at that time so there had been no reason to believe she had been involved. A few weeks later Salamir had cuts and scratches around his throat and face which had caused a bit of worry in Rasmus that the male was either too clumsy for his own good, or had been in a fight with something that had gotten the better of him. The boy had a reasonable explanation though of rough housing with another boy and it getting out of hand. Still the girl seemed unvexed and ignorant of anything to do with it and Rasmus once more noted the incident only in passing. It was hard to verify further accounts as healing often covered the marks nearly as soon as they'd appear. More so in the girl than in others in the community. A flash of a thigh marked with red or purple would be clear and unblemished by the time anyone would call her over to inspect it. A glimpse of welting on a cheek hidden beneath her dark hair would be pure and smooth by the time a finger could lift those silken strands away. When asked about it, she would smile enigmatically and give a warm hug then slip away to play as cheerfully as always. For over a year Rasmus watched as a slow understanding of what was transpiring between the two engaged young ones became more and more evident. Finally his suspicions finding proof as he kept a quiet vigil hidden from view to try to catch them in the act. From his hiding place he could see with the aid of a pair of opera glasses the young girl knelt down by the side of the swimming hole. She was small for fifteen and almost coltish. He smiled as he realized she was collecting small stones for the tiny sculptures she made. He'd often admired her artistic works and wondered that she exhibited such a knack for creation. He'd begun to relax, thinking he'd been mistaken in his assumptions when a large boot struck the center of her back. He didn't even have to pan the glasses as the attacker stepped further forward. Large hands closing quickly around the back of her neck before she could even push back up out of the shallow water. Salamir moving forward, his weight coming down heavily on the girl's back as his hands pushed her head down to keep her face under water. Sickly hypnotized, Rasmus stared through the small lens in mute horror. Salamir dunked her under until she grew submissive. The splashing and flailing beneath his heavier weight calming finally. He was a healthy subject, twenty one now and easily over six foot tall with well defined musculature. Rasmus would later chide himself for taking a clinical stance instead of raising a call to assist the girl that was less than half the male's size. His guilt would slowly change his outlook on what took place later on as well. His ego refusing to let him voice that he had failed his employers, himself, Salamir, and especially the girl. He watched as large hands turned the half drowned girl over in the water and began their brutal explorations. He watched as a knee kept a thin throat squelched from crying out. Strong arms fending off the small hands that still fought even though pinned back into waters that splashed up to choke across her airways in small waves. A distant voice halted this macabre dance and Salamir looked up in startled repose. Strausdeaur's heavy tones carrying even up to where Rasmus hid in horrified silence calling the girl in for the night. Whatever Salamir whispered to the girl as he let her up from the water, Rasmus could get nothing from her later. Not even her once warm hugs were offered as she feigned her normal cheerfulness. Rasmus began watching closely, but soon after the girl began avoiding the water and not long after that she took careful avoidance of men altogether. He had almost pulled her from the community then, reasoning that in the labs she would at least be safe from further assaults, but he had hesitated in his own guilt at not taking action before and whatever took place in the next six months between Salamir and the girl had become secondary as incoming reports from his benefactors became more and more urgent that the subjects be moved into stasis. When Salamir disappeared, Rasmus had an idea what had become of him, but by then there was no time left as alarms called them all to the Homsphere. He was among the last to go in, but he didn't see her again after the alarms began. Strausdeaur finally assured him he'd seen her go in among the first so Rasmus would leave off his vigil and go inside with the others. Rasmus spoke in precise, clipped tones to the woman sitting across from him. Leaving out his own guilt in watching what had taken place at the water's edge, leaving out the knowledge that the girl was pushed to the extremes by one she'd be forced to spend the rest of her natural and unnatural life with, leaving out Salamir's forced affections on what could only be called a child, leaving out everything that may have condemned the child by saying only, "She could not have killed Salamir because she was with me the entirety of the day of his disappearance. She was undergoing basic testing that whole day. The lab technicians were unfortunate accidents caused by the uploading of white noise instead of memories. She reacted by instinct only when confronted by an insurmountable situation and excelled. Isn't that what we created her for?" The once faithfully dedicated scientist looked calmly into the woman's face, and without altering his ex-pression one iota, listened to his heart for once instead of his head...and lied.
2/20/2008 7:40:09 AM	Archive 'Dead' File 38.205GD - Case Name: Project God
teaurtei Payne, OH age: 40	Careful creases and careless containments... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Had he even flinched perhaps the interrogation would've ended there, instead the woman seemed to study his wrinkled countenance as if searching for something in his face that they both knew wasn't there. Finally she looked aside long enough to place manicured digits on a thin file laying atop a stack of thicker ones. The heavy paper still looked relatively new to his eyes as they slid over to see what they would offer up next. The creases still fresh, no wear along the edges. New information on the girl. He felt his old heart skip a beat and restrained himself from reaching across the table to snatch at the file. As it turned out, she pushed it to him with one lacquered finger on its cover. Watching him coldly as he pulled it closer. His hands slid over the cool cover almost reverently. Half afraid of what lay within its thin confines. Rasmus inhaled deeply then opened the file. What greeted him first was a scene out of a bad horror flick and he was helpless to stop the hissed breath that was expelled from his lungs in initial shock. Whatever the mangled mass barely distinguishable on the hotel bed was in the photo, he hoped it had not been human. Blood and gore seemed almost painted on the walls and furnishings. Small handprints visible. "She..." He stopped to swallow back a painful lump that threatening to choke him. His voice softening with empathy and pain for whatever had driven her to this destructiveness. Trying hard to keep the dimpled smile of her youth fresh in his mind. "she did this?" Tears pooled along his lashes as he looked up to the woman across from him for verification. One spilling over to catch along a wrinkle, following its path along his aged cheek only to be quickly wiped away. The woman simply nodded as she crossed her arms over her chest. "There's more. That was one of our bounty hunters. He found her living on the streets and had contained her for collection. This was what we found when we got there. His final report separates the two documented events. The second had contained her for almost three days before contacting us. She was a bit more thorough with him." Rasmus stared at her as she spoke dispassionately about the deaths of two men at the hands of a child. Lowering his eyes back to the folder, he turned over the first picture to continue. Ten photographs in all from varying angles of the hotel room she'd been kept in. The restraints that must have held her torn to shreds, barely recognizable as the same heavy restraints he used to control test subjects in the laboratories. What confused him were small items just noticeable in the pictures. A taser just under the edge of the bed. A pair of men's pants discarded too far from the body to have been pulled off at death. A flat wooden handle protruding from beneath the man's twisted remains. As tears tracked more freely down his cheeks he turned photo after photo over, feeling more clearly the pain and terror the girl must have undergone at the hands of a paid mercenary likely under orders to use extreme prejudice. He could imagine the man's lack of morality at finding out the young girl with such angelic features was marked for death anyway. It was like handing a psychopath a loaded gun and turning him loose in the subway. The report that followed was a hand written ledger of almost two full pages dictating her movements from place to place. He had been very detailed in his notes, including addresses, times, any possible contacts, etc. It was only slightly encouraging to know she was still alive and well. He almost cried out to read that she found food by digging through garbage cans and begging at back doors of restaurants. More shocking yet was to find that her once healthy appearance was now described as 'emaciated. Possible malnutrition.' He finished reading the second page, snorting softly at the man's penned words of 'threat assessment level - minimal'. He had fatally underestimated the child. Rasmus tried, but could find no sympathy in him for this man. He had thought the woman being simply snide when she'd mentioned the next one, but he actually had to look away as the first photo was uncovered. "She is very talented, isn't she?" He looked up suddenly, pained to hear the traces of humor in her voice. He swallowed back the rise of a sob and the bilious bitterness of stomach acids that followed it. Looking back down to the file photos, he felt his heart ache physically for the young girl. The man who had been so bold as to keep her caged three days in an area that looked like the interior of a pay storage shed had been brutally mutilated. His body dismembered and parts hung from any available area with enough of an edge to support it. A small box in the center of the photographed area had small holes drilled in its side approximately an inch in diameter each. A heavy padlock still in evidence from the shattered remains of what must have been the lid. A piece of this lid supported a head without eyes or ears and very little of his face, only recognizable by shape and gaping cavities. A small knife pinned a lumpish piece of thick flesh to the side of the box. It was his... "I'd like to return to my quarters now. Please." Rasmus looked up at the woman. Tears blurred his vision and his chest was seizing painfully as the full implications of what the child had had to endure because of his failure to act when he could have saved her. He slid his chair back, only vaguely noticing the ways his hands were shaking as he rose. Taking a step sideways from his chair, he felt the room shift in his vision. Reaching out to steady himself, his hand fell flatly against the thin file he'd been looking through. Pain seared out from his chest, he couldn't breath, his head pounded, vision dimmed. The woman watched him emotionlessly as his knees unlocked. His head bounced once off the metal table toppling him backwards onto the floor. A sickening thump as it hit the smooth tiles. The file sliding off the table, photographs of instruments of torture turned upon their user covering his already dead body. A heart so seldom used is often too weak when it is finally discovered and his fell short far too soon. "A change of heart can be dangerous this late in the game. Thought you would have known that, old man." She rose from her chair without looking back at him and walked out of the interrogation room. The girl would be found again. It was only a matter of time. If there wasn't such an pressing need for whatever secrets lay dormant still within her DNA the woman would've already issued the order to have her killed on sight, but they needed living tissue samples from the girl from each transformation stage and arrangements had already been made to cycle her through these once she'd been brought in. The current order was to subdue by any means necessary, excessive force preferred, contain subject for collection. She could care less what the hunters did with her while they had her so long as she was still breathing when they brought her in. "Get him out of there." She hissed at the young man waiting on the other side of the door for her.

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