Chimera 114- Chapter 1

"There are millions hacking at the branches of evil, to one who is striking at the root."

He couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous. How long had it been, six months? Maybe more....maybe less. All that was known at this point was that for the last while after the massive HP Corporation bust, it had been nothing but sickening, perpetual jitters. The mental, yellowish fog hung over his head and matted into his hair, sticking into his skin. It would never leave. Every passing glance became a death threat. Every shady character became his demise. Every unlocked door had some gruesome surprise behind it.

Yet as Jonathon Dasilva sat in his home reading the paper, it had seemed to disperse for a second, only long enough to get his thoughts in order. Over a strong cup of coffee and a toaster strudel, he proceeded to read the article at the bottom of the second page.

“Chimera 114 Details Declassified, Animal Rights Enraged”


Well, it‘s out of the bag now.....Jesus. Took them what, 3 months to figure everything out? Ever since the raid on Pier 17 on that hellish night, the research had not stopped.

It had been about 6 months prior that they had all gotten into deep sh*t at Pier 17 near White Rock. There had been a few- a couple of Jonathon’s good friends, and of course himself. They had all stumbled upon a secret genetics lab, hosting the development of the mutagen Chimera 114- and guess who the experiments were going to be. They all got shots of the mutagen, turning them into monsters.

Jonathon didn't.
It was a fluke, but as it turned out, an escaped experiment saved his life, killing the guards and providing a way out. Jonathon took advantage of this, not weighed down by the side effects of the mutagen. He successfully managed to fight his way out, tooth and nail, and as a result they all survived. The corporation went down, the experiments were made public and all seemed right again. Except for Jonathon.

Suffering a bullet wound in the meat of his leg, he went into a medically induced coma to repair bone and seal an artery. When he woke up, he thought he was the same. But he wasn't, and over the last few weeks, the emotional damage bled through the cracks.

And now.....he's scared. Scared for everything. And there was more. He hated his friends for what they were. The INHUMANITY they indulged upon. The one who got the most concentrated dose, Michael, was the worst for Jonathon. How he went from a friend to a monster in such a short time….

lying against the concrete wall, two hands clamped over his ruined left leg, he watches as Michael tears away at throats, jaws, chests, eyes, arms, spines- impervious to the bullets grazing his(it’s???) fast moving form-

And as luck would have it, the doorbell rings, and the subject of Jonathon‘s phobia stands in the door. Mike.
Jonathon hesitated, and finally broke the silence.
"What do you want?"
Mike was startled slightly by Jonathon’s tone.
"Uh, hi. Look, I gotta talk to you, okay?"
"What?"
"It concerns everthing over these past months...I think you've got the idea?"
"Yeah. There's nothing to talk about."
“You haven’t been talking, no one’s seen you on MSN, you’re not answering your cell. Something’s wrong.”

Despite all apprehensions, Jonathon let Michael Ambrose into his house.

“So what’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Something’s up, don’t take me for an idiot, man.”
“Look, its just been a lot of late nights, a couple of nightmares, midterms, university applications. Nothing’s up.”
“We’re all doing the same, and yet you persist in being completely inward. You’re looking at us like we’re freaks.”
You ARE freaks, can’t you see that?!
“No. What I said is the truth.”
“No, it isn’t. I can tell.”

Jonathon finally decided that enough was enough.
“Doesn’t this…..get to you?”
“What?”
“What happened. The experiments. I’m just thinking, how did they get away with it all? It makes no sense that such a big operation could keep going for so long with no one knowing.”
“I’m sure they paid some people to keep it under wraps.”
“Yeah. Mike…..that’s not all.”
“Ok?”
“How do you FEEL about what they did to you? All of you?”
“Uhh, I’m not sure I follow.”
“Don’t you want yourself to go back to normal?”
“Every day. I mean, honestly I don’t know what to think. It’s a mixed bag, really. It feels like the best thing ever given to me, and the worst at the same time. I can do so much more, but I feel like every time I indulge, I lose a little more control.”
“That’s another thing.”
“What?”
"When I saw you lose your temper last time, you killed a lot of people. That's what you're capable of, that's what Ben's capable of, that's what Will and Tyson are capable of. And I don't want to be there when you exercise your capabilities. It was bad enough last time....at least they were guilty people. But now....."
"What, so you're scared of us?"
"Yeah. That sums it up."
"Well to put it into perspective, I think you're just as capable of killing people as I am or the others are. That's what you did to get us out, right? You had to kill. And you have to be batshit CRAZY to think that I‘d try to kill you."
"It wasn't personal, I did what I had to do to live. You were.....enraged. You wanted every one to die, very very much. I could see it in your eyes and I saw it every time in you after. I can see it in you right now….and I just don’t want to be reminded anymore.”
"You can't just sweep your friends under the rug, you know that."
"Yeah, but it'll certainly help."
"Jonathon, you can't just leave like this. We all have to go through it too. And to leave now would be a slap in the face. Do you know that?"
"You're a good guy, I'll give you that. All of you. But I don't want this anymore and I want you all to leave me alone. Just do it."
"I can't believe I'm getting this from you. I can't believe it! You goddamned traitor!"
"I'm no traitor....I'm the only human left out of all of us. And this human wants to let it go. Just let me do that."
Michael was pale, and all he could do from there was shake his head.
"Just get out of my house, now."
"How can you do this?!"
"Leave."
"You think you're the only one here with this fear? All the rest of us have to live with the knowledge that we don‘t even biologically confirm as humans anymore!
"Look. I saved your life last time, goddammit. I took a bullet for you and your friends, and all I ask in return is that you just leave me alone. You can't do that?"
"No."
"Well then, you really aren't human, are you?"
Mike stepped out the door.
"Jonathon, I'm not sure what to say, other than I don't think I'm gonna forgive you for this. I speak for everyone. Go to hell."
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3 Weeks Later
Location: Starbucks Coffee Shop, west White Rock

Of all the places to wake up....I had come to in a coffee shop? Jesus....must've been the late night rounds earlier this morning. I'm beat. Even the espresso couldn't keep me conscious. The coffee shop was mostly empty, save for 2 people in the corner, looked like a couple. I checked my watch.
12:47pm
Hey, that means I have 13 more minutes to get back to HQ...that's a plus. I don't wanna fall asleep over my break and not make it back on time.

At that moment of thinking, another officer walked in. I immediately recognized him as Const. Frank Beaumont. The guy was celebrating his third year on the force, while I was celebrating my third day.
"Hey Alex! You look like shit, rookie. Let's see what you got here......"
He perused over my purchases. And noticing the red crease across my forehead from the edge of the table, he assumed I was asleep prior.

"You dozed off over a double espresso and an apple fritter?! Whoa, now I HAVE seen everything."
"Yeah yeah, Frank. There a reason you're here?"
"Just right place, right time, Alex."
"Bene- er, I mean good. I gotta head back, my break is over in 10."
"Shitty. Well, good luck, rookie. See ya 'round, eh?"
"Si. Have a good one, Frank."

As I walked back to my cruiser, I perused over my ID card- a simple habit I got into to prove who I was to myself at times. Fatigue has a funny habit of giving me temporary amnesia, sometimes.

Name: Alexandro Pazzi
Rank: Const.
Date of Join: 11 May 2013

Alexandro Pazzi....most call me Alex now. Direct import from Naples- after the war ravaged the mainland of Europe. I was 17.
Four and a half years later, I joined up here after finishing an education and making the decision to go into law. Today was now the 14th, and I don't feel much toward the job.....I just gotta wait, I guess.

The excitement will come.
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As it turned out, I only had to wait another 12 hours. I went home and proceeded to get some much needed sleep when I was called in again. This time to a domestic disturbance call, at 24 Evergreen Terrace.

I got to work, cranked up and got in the cruiser. David Lennox, one of the more experienced officers got in and drove. He was to oversee me this time around.
"So, Alex. What do you expect from this?"
That was David’s token question. He always wanted to know your anticipations for the upcoming situation.
"Drunken and Disorderly Conduct....neighborhood rivalry, gang fight, drug deal, animal in yard?"
"That's good. That's what I'm thinking. But that's gonna be messy."
"Maybe just two neighbours over a property dispute?"
"At 12am? Fat chance. But, I suppose it's happened before."
"Yeah. Here's the turnoff, Sir."
"Right."
The cruiser turned smoothly onto the street, flanked by houses, condos and trees. Lots of trees, pure natural green space. Maybe it was just an animal after all.

As we neared the target, we noticed the crowd of spectators around the area. Something big woke them up, and by the looks on their faces, it was a lot louder than a racoon or a bear.
"Shit....Alex, focus on crowd control until further notice. I'll check the place out. Get some witness reports while you do it, okay?"
"Yes sir."

We got out of the car. Lennox immediately shone a light at the door to the house. I cut off the crowd and began speaking.
"People! People, please! You have to stand back and let us do our jobs. Get back, now!"
"What the hell was that?! It sounded like a gunshot."
"What?!"
"It woke all of us up. A whole lot of really loud, sharp noises. Boom, boom, boom, boom. Everybody was awake after we heard it."
The speaker, a skinny, pale man in the front, motioned toward the house.
"They got a kid, I think he's around 17 years old. Don't know his name. Got messed in some weird stuff earlier, I heard."
"Ok sir, come here a minute. Do you know what happened here?"
"No, like I said- I heard really loud BOOM noises and came out. Nothing really happened that I could see. I figured it was coming from that house there because they were the only ones on the block not awake."
"Did you make the phone call?"
"Yes sir."
"OK, I need you to make a statement, sir. If you could just come-"

A gurgling yell was heard inside the house. Lennox’s booming voice was heard after it.
"Alex! Call for backup and meet me here. Go!!"
Stomach dropping, I fumbled for the radio on my shoulder and radioed in. Backup was coming. I ran to Lennox’s position.
"Look at this."
The back window had been completely shattered.
"Go break the door down."
I went to the front and told the crowd to get back. I kicked the door in with a sharp *crack*.

The door flew inward, and in a flash Lennox had a torch on. I did the same, holding the torch in one shaky hand.
We moved in.
"Hello? Anyone here? Can anyone hear us?"

I shone my light into the kitchen. Nothing. All other windows were intact. We immediately headed to the upstairs bedrooms. That was the worst part.

Room 1 contained nothing irregular. But as I eased open the door to the second room, my stomach dropped further.

On the bed was a teenage male, approximately 17 years of age. He was gasping for air, propped up against the wall next to the bed, the wall painted with blood. His blood. "Son!! It's okay, we're gonna get you out of here, just calm down. Jesus...where's the goddamned backup, Alex!?"
"I called for them! They should be here!!"
"Fuck, I can't stop the goddamned bleeding!!"
The victim began thrashing and gasping more. Blood flew out of his mouth and spurted from his chest every time he attempted to breathe. His chest was pockmarked with 3 bullet holes.

Finally, the teenager went limp. His pulse went out. Lennox began administering CPR.
"ALEX! CHECK THE OTHER ROOMS!! THERE COULD BE MORE!"

I ran out, opened all the doors. In the last bedroom to the left, there were two people on the bed, the walls painted with their blood too. The wounds for them were fatal, the walls sporting a new décor of blood and unspeakable solids.
"HQ, HQ. We got a triple homicide at 24 Evergreen Terrace. Need Crime Scene Investigators, Paramedics and extra units immediately. Repeat: extra units, CSIs and paramedics ASAP. Over."
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The coronary report was as follows: three people, all of the DaSilva family, murdered in their own home at approximately 11pm, with the exception of the teenager, who's TOD was recorded at 12:14am. Held out for an hour with three bullets in his chest. My God. The victim's names were Lily, Mason, and Jonathon. The house was swept clean of any evidence, the shell casings picked up. No prints were lifted from any of the door handles, or windows. A professional job....as it would seem.

I sat in the break room with a styrofoam cup of coffee in my hands. The teen's blood still stuck on my hands, impervious to soap. Three days on the job....and THIS?! How? Why? It was senseless, there was nothing on any of their reports, no grudges, nothing at all. And yet they were still slaughtered like animals in their own homes. It made no sense at all. Finally, my supervising officer let me go.


And as morning eventually came, I slept maybe 2 or 3 hours. The rest of the time was spent in bed, contemplating how and why this would happen to such a group of people who deserved so much better.