(Page 1 of 2) Mutant Man by Benjamin Hampton
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SUMMARY: A sci-fi where a man with powers escapes from a government testing facility and the events that follow. I wake up and can see nothing, but I feel a hell of a lot.
Darkness encloses me in... well, I can't remember where. All I feel was pain; in my head, hand, and arm. It starts to come back a little, not a lot, but some. The mutant man has done this to me, and he hadn't had a problem in doing so. But I can't force myself to blame him; I would've done the same, probably worse.
He knew it was me, too. He could recognize me easily, and he showed me pity. I owe my life to him because he let me live even after all of the things that I'd done to him, all of the suffering I'd caused him. He saved my life, but he wasn't making me pleasant by any stretch of the imagination.
All of the fingers on my right hand except for my thumb are scattered throughout the long, white hallway from when he blasted them off. My left arm has a gash in it that isn't too deep, but it covers the space from my elbow to my wrist, and the blood from that is starting to fall into my palm. I wiggle my hand to let the blood fall to the ground with a drop, and as I do I realize with a start that my hand is cuffed to the desk behind me. I must have been knocked out at that point from the gun-butting, which is why my forehead is bleeding. My other hand is cuffed as well I realize, and it's now that I start to get a little bit fearful.
The alarm is ringing in my ear. It should be turned off by now; the mutant man is either on the ground right now with a bullet in his head or is so far out of our reach that we'll never catch him. And he'll go to the press, I know he will. This thing is going to fall apart right before Murkowski's eyes. The snowball effect. The domino effect. The house of cards. Whatever. It all means the same thing: people are going to get implicated and then tell and before long it'll be traced back to the President signing off on this. The good news for me is, no one cares about me so I personally wont be in the news that much, so my family will be alright, but the bad news is I'm going to prison for the rest of my life.
He said it would happen too. He warned me personally, with a delirious smile on his face, but I thought he was bluffing. He told me the exact fingers I'd lose and everything. So I zapped him. We always zapped him, like we were children holding a magnifying glass to ants on a sunny day. It was the same thing: we sickly and secretly enjoyed doing it.
Footsteps... footsteps come down the hall, echoing against the walls and floors, overpowering the damned alarm. Then, footsteps from the opposite side of the hall as well. "How in God's name did this happen?" comes a muffled voice that I instantly recognize as Jimmy. Touché.
Jimmy works under me, but he does all of the dirty work, and I get more pay. It was like the principal in a high school doesn't yell as much or do as much of the "bad stuff" as the assistant principal does, and the same situation paycheck wise.
"I... I don't know sir," comes a younger voice. I have no idea who that is.
I suddenly realize that I'm being utterly silent and yell out, "Help!" which comes out pretty weak.
Both sets of feet approach me, and the door swings open.
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