Unstoppable: Revitalized

-11-

Lab experiment. Lab experiment... No, it doesn't make sense... I never noticed anything suspicious

I laid sprawled out over a sofa, no lights, with the TV blaring away, letting the blue wash over me. Somehow, I'd ended up on the news channel, watching a live reporter battle the elements as the wind ravaged their entire body. Trees whipped and smashed into the ground around her, debris narrowly missed her, before a car came out of nowhere. The last thing I heard before the channel cut was a high pitched, terrifying scream of pure fear, before flashing white text took over,

'Technical difficulties? What's technical about that? Someone died. Someone died, and I couldn't care less. Maybe there is something wrong with me after all. Maybe this whole 'being immortal' thing weighs on me more than I thought.

Pushing it back, I flicked the channel over, and felt a wave of sleep crash over me as my eyelids immediately dropped. One hand barely clung onto the remote as I blindly tapped a button, watching an advert on facial products being the last thing I remember.

"Adam! We've got to go! Now!"

My eyes snapped open as I rolled off the sofa and sprung up, my fathers voice still ringing in my ears.

What? How- what on earth...

"Adam! Where are you?"

There it is again...

It sounded as if it came from the kitchen. The sensation came back, the joy of being home, as I ran for the kitchen, not caring for anything else. Turning the corner, I found the place empty. The dishes packed away, the same towel Callum used sitting on the side, everything was how it was. Just without my father.

"We- we can't do this anymore. Not anymore."

More voices, one sounding like my mother, suddenly appeared from the stairs. As I crept up, the noise seemed to emanate from my parent's bedroom. I sat by it, deciding to lure myself in with false promises. My parents were here, I just couldn't see them. I had to listen.

"Not with our boy involved, please. You can't..."

"We can't stop now, can we?" A voice, completely monotone, replied, not a hint of sympathy heard. "You must understand, we've put a lot of time and money into perfecting this to his genome. Your son could change the world, you do realise that?"

"I know! But what if it doesn't? What if I never get to see my son take his first steps? Or walk to school? Or graduate? The chances are so low."

"You knew the risks."

"Please..." My father said a name, but it seemed to fade into obscurity, the conversation focused in milliseconds later. "Let me see my son grow."

"I can offer something else instead: A higher payment. Every month, a lump sum of tax-free cash will be sent to whatever account you are both connected to. It should let you both live comfortably and take care of you, should the worst happen to your son. We have ran every test possible, over and over. Nothing bad will happen, I can assure you. Now, if you would excuse me..." I heard the voice move towards the door, and darted out the corner, shutting the bathroom door behind me. I was in the dark, but it also meant nothing else could see me. A shadow, bland and unrecognisable, seemed to stop just outside the door, before moving on again, heavy footsteps creaking the stairs. I ran to my parents door and practically threw it off it's hinges, only to be greeted with the sound of painful, numbing silence.

Then the alarm went off.

Audibly groaning, I blindly reached around for my phone, knocking the off button, before stretching and standing. Looking at my screen, it said 02:33 in black letters.

Every Sunday I fall asleep on the sofa. I swear.

Dragging myself to bed, I got a few extra hours cozied up before the alarm kicked in, causing me to slam my phone screen for silence before accepting my fate: I was going in today. A shower, shave, and a coffee later, I felt slightly happier about the day ahead. Breakfast was something I could quickly eat and forget, as usual. Climbing into my uniform and checking I had my keys for the thirtieth time, I headed out the front door, backpack wrapped around my spine. Locking the door and throwing the keys into my pocket, I headed down the dirt path leading to the gate. Just as my hand caressed the worn oak, I made the mistake of turning back.

"See you soon, Adam!" I heard my mother coo from the doorway. Blinking hard and shaking my head, I took another look, but the house remained the same: As empty as ever. I froze hard, trying to work out if this was a dream or not.

This isn't happening. What... What's happening to me?

The school gates loomed over me, the metal still just as shiny as last week, except at the top of the spires, small flecks of paint began to peel off. Honestly, I only noticed because I looked for it, anyone else would've simply walked past it. I couldn't help but waste time, even if it was just outside. I hate the place. I hate it beyond belief. Looking just behind, the grass seemed freshly cut, blades of grass littering the walkways and sticking to shoes, unwelcome visitors in a concrete jungle. Finally, I glanced at the flowers the Caretaker worked on, noticing how symmetrical they were. Not a petal fell, nor did a bug bite it. They were untouched, yet still stood out when noticed.

Just like The Boss.

Pushing past my resolve, I took a few steps through the gate, sidewinding through groups and sliding past people to get to my locker, fumbling around with the lock. The code I'd been using for weeks suddenly didn't work. As I stood over it, pondering, I heard a sickeningly familiar voice call out to me mockingly, sending shivers over my body.

"Aaaaaddaaammmm..." Liam catcalled to me as he shoved past students and teachers alike, stopping only a few centimetres away from me.

Run, Adam. As far and as fast as you can. You can't fight him.

And yet, some strange, animal part of my brain fought against me. My fists tightened as he got closer, as if steeling myself for a true fight to put someone in their place. I'd had enough: Something in me in that moment seemed to snap as he stopped a few paces away, that same ugly smile I was used to already plastered over his face.

No. I'm done with running. If he's gonna beat me, I'm at least going to take it like a man.