Blood of Our Blood

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[Mr. Adams POV]

When I was younger, my mother was never there for me. My father raised me, and taught me everything I knew. And when I was of age, he taught me his job. This job.

I had never questioned why; I always assumed my father was right, because why wouldn't a twelve year old follow in the steps of his father? Why wouldn't a twelve year old do as they say and use what was taught by his father? When my father told me the world was in a bad place, and we were the ones who could fix it, I wanted to be a hero too. To save the bad ending of the world.

Now I didn't know what was truly happening until the age of fourteen — where after I learned of basic medical procedures, how to run a workplace, and how to do basic adult things — when I learned how we were saving the world. Turning people, kids my age, into bio-weapons for a global war to see who could make it out on top.

I suppose at a first thought, it bothered me, but why should I doubt my father? He knew what was best for me, and his lessons always led me down the right path. So he continued to teach me what he knew.

I watched as I got older, kids turning into deadly weapons. Some were sent off, and I never saw them again. I supposed they had went off to join the fight, which was the right thing to do to save us. Most continued to train and their blood and DNA was used to create other bio-weapons. Stronger and more powerful than they could've had the potential to be. And I never saw those kids again. And some others ended up as failures. They're DNA wasn't special as we previously thought, my father told me. So they were disposed of. Most at a young age, seven maybe eight.

My father would dispose of failures immediately. We couldn't afford failures. I previously never thought to question why we couldn't return them home. We had memory wipe serums, so why couldn't they go home to the small city they were taken from. Everyone in that city had had many doses of memory wipe serums in the past, so why couldn't they? I never asked though; I trusted my father was showing me the right thing to do.

He taught me everything he could until he died of a sudden heart attack. I was nineteen. Then it was my turn to take over and make sure I did the right thing.

It was rough at first without my father to guide me. I got lazy and missed deadlines, and even messed around with a nurse. Two months later she found the courage the tell me she was pregnant with my son at the time.

That was bad. Legal documents about facility owners having children had changed. If he wasn't special born I could raise him and train him to be a facility owner, but if he was of special born then they had to take him to a separate facility and he would be subjected to be used as a bio-weapon and sent off if successful. Rate of succession: 67.4%

I hoped he was normal. Just an ordinary boy. Ans one week after he was born, the test results came in. He was special born. Sky, my son, would be taken from me. I couldn't let that happen, so I did what I had to do. Before they could take him, I had another truck take him to the city, where he would be dropped off at a young woman's house, and this woman already given false memories would receive more.

However, even with records changing, my son still came back to me as a test subject. I couldn't escape that haunted memory of him, and then he was right there in front of me.

I poured myself another glass of Pinot Grigio recalling the sharp cries of my son as he was taken from my arms. Days without sleep, wine glass after wine glass. I was twelves floors down in the basement levels; below the crushed rubble on the surface that my son caused.

I have lost.. for good now. There is no chance of victory for me. I cannot control my son, and those other kids that have escaped with him.

"I truly did fail you, father," I said in a drunken voice as I took a sip of the wine. "Maybe it's time I see you again, so maybe you can teach me another lesson." I said as my finger twitched towards the loaded gun that had been sitting on the table since I locked myself in this room.