Of Monsters and Humanity: The Genesis

Chapter 44 - Terra

Twenty-three days before....

"It has taken a lot out of us," Damian said. "I can feel it, too, and I'm working with my uncle of all people."

I nodded back and bit my lip, wanting to tell him about how much I hated the twisted Dr. Balcom, but I couldn't complain to him about his own family.

Finally, we had come to an impasse. I had expressed my feelings about him and the entirety of our situation as best as I could, and he listened to all of it. And, to my surprise, he felt the same way.

We agreed to let it pass and work together as colleagues again, as we needed to anyway for school and work. There would obviously be no secret cadaver lab time while Xander was staying, but that was fine enough for us. We both agreed that things were getting really intense with Project X, and it just might have been taking its toll on us.

"I had to quit soccer," Damian murmured, shaking his head as he stared at the countertop. "My favorite thing to do and I had to quit it."

My jaw dropped. "What?"

His cool blue eyes meet mine. I could see genuine pain. "Work and school are becoming way too much...." he explained, then leaned in close, looking as though he were guilty of murder. "I didn't want to bring this up with my uncle, but I'm starting to feel really guilty about working with him."

My eyes widened. "So it's not just me," I whispered.

His eyes mirrored mine.

My gaze dodges from all sides of the room, looking at each one of the military operatives briefly in the face before I lowered my head and leaned in close to him. "I feel like something is going on, Damian, and I'm scared. I think Xander feels it, too."

"He does?" he asks in a hushed tone.

"I think so. And if we all feel this way...we might be right. And that's what I'm worried about."

His eyes look down, as if he's searching for something that dropped on the ground.

"What do you think it is?" I asked.

"I don't know...." Damian whispered. "Maybe new experiments. My uncle always has new ones he wants to try out, and there's so much more to learn."

I nodded.

"Or what if he's been through several stages of experiments and now he's moving on to the next one? There's new rooms and sections of the Project X facility being built, I know that. I looked through some of my uncle's papers and a lot of them say that they're being used for more research. Though, when I compared them to the papers associated with the current facility, I noticed that there are more orders for shipments of elements and metals. Sedatives and diseases. There were requests for more shipments before, but not to this degree."

My brows furrowed. "Why would they do that?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. I can dig deeper if you want."

"Yes, please. Don't get yourself in trouble, though," I instructed quietly.

A white smile spread across his face. "I won't," he promised, then reached across the counter and grabbed his car keys.

I frowned. "You're leaving already?" I asked. Our conversation put me in such a good mood, and I had really needed to talk to him within the few prior days. With all of the confusion and inconsistency and stress and fear, I needed a recharge. That was given to me by hanging out with Damian. I realized that I cherish his friendship more than I do a possibility of a relationship because he's too good of a person to lose. And in such dire times, I needed to hold as many good people to me as humanly possible.

"I've gotta get started," he jested, smiling and raising his brows as he started talking to the door leading to the garage.

"Right now?" I asked, looking outside. "It's getting dark. There's no way he will be there to let you in at this hour."

With a smile resembling a child who finger painted a wall, Damian slings his keys around and holds up a long golden key attached to the key ring. "Let's hope he's not there. Being the director's nephew pays off," he mused, like he did weeks ago with Mr. Page's classroom key, before he laughed and ducked out of the door, leaving my house.

I laughed, too, even though I felt apprehensive about letting him leave. I really hoped the military operatives didn't have anything to say about it. Or, better yet, doctors walking around the halls of the facility. Hopefully they wouldn't tell Dr. Balcom, and even if they did, I had a feeling Damian could sweet talk his way out of it.

He had a certain knack for sweet talking.

Once I saw Damian's car drive from the driveway from the windows of the parlor, I slowly started to walk to Xander's room. I really needed to talk to him about this. Damian was on top of it, and I wanted to be, also. I needed as much information as possible to move forward and find out more for the person about to be most affected by it.

"Excuse me," I whisper as a large SWAT officer stands in the doorway, blocking my entry.

"Sorry, Miss Egan," he answered, his voice louder than mine was.

I thanked him as he stood off to the side. As I entered, I quickly rushed out, "Hey, Xander, I need to talk to--"

But I stopped in my tracks.

Xander didn't hear me, as he was completely passed out on the bed. Both of the earphones were in, and he was lying horizontally. One of his legs was completely off the mattress, and one of his arms was hanging off the side of the bed. It really was too small for him. I at first thought that it might be a possibility of being too inadequate, but now that I see it in person, I realized that it looked like he was sleeping in a children's bed.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched him sleep peacefully. For the first time, he was wearing different clothes. The bed wasn't broken into yet, as the pillows and sheets were all the same as how I made them up before he arrived.

I looked at his now visible markings, and how they seemed to touch every part of his skin outside of his face. They crawled up his neck and down his chest and around his arms and down his fingers. As I stared at his open palm, I realized that they were marked too. Designs and words and pictures all rendered in the same style covered his body.

And as my eyes traveled up his long, pale, tattooed arms, I realized that his eyes were open and staring right at me.