Wrong dose

Prologue

"One more drop in each, and then it'll be done", murmured the man. 

"Honey are you sure you followed all the steps?", anxiously asked his wife, "You know what could happen if something goes wrong." 

"Does it look like I could make a mistake? We've worked on this project for years. There is no way all this work can go wasted." The man gestured around the lab. It was underground, guarded by the tightest security possible: video cameras, heat sensors, high-tech alarms. Only the man and woman had access to it, and only the people in their tightest circle knew of its existence.  It was littered with papers filled with complicated equations and symbols, beakers full of strange, colorful chemicals, computers full of  files and illegal correspondences. If this place was found, it would be their ruin. 

In the chaos of it all rested their most important secret. Two wriggling, crying little bundles. Twins, to be precise. The woman gave birth to them a few weeks ago. They were the key to the entire experiment. If everything went smoothly, the man and the woman would become rich and powerful. They would create two perfect children. They would be so much better than any other kids. They would be several times stronger, faster, smarter. The twins could be used as soldiers, spies, athletes. As long as they were rewarded for their creations, the couple couldn't care less. But if their operation failed, or if they were found out before they finished, they would lose everything. Gone would be their money, their jobs, their freedom. Everything they had strived to achieve would disappear in the blink of an eye if they failed. So it was crucial they succeeded.

"The dropper, please", requested the man. The woman handed it to him with a shaky hand. This was the moment they had been waiting for. The goal they had worked to achieve for years. The man adjusted his goggles and bent over two small beakers filled with a bight green liquid. His hand was shaking uncontrollably, half because of nerves, and half because of excitement. He delicately squeezed the dropper, letting one drop fall into each beaker.  One drop only, mind you, because The Chemical, if overused, would do horrible things to your brain. Things even worse than death. 

"It's done", breathed the woman, "It's finally done." Her eyes lit up and her mouth twisted into a  satisfied grin. She was furiously touching and nudging the beakers, still wearing that maniacal smile. For the first time, the man felt a flicker of fear. This behavior was unlike his wife, who had an impassive and cynical disposition. "Remember we need to let it sit for 12 hours before giving it to the subjects, dear." The woman's head snapped up at that. Her strange actions stopped, and she focused on the man once more. "Of course, I forgot", she said coolly. The man glanced at her.  It wasn't like his wife to forget something so vital. "Of course", he replied neutrally. 

                                                                                          ***

A few hours later, the door of a cabinet creaked open. A young woman carefully looked through the crack. When she was sure the coast was clear, she stepped out of the cabinet, her movements fluid despite the long hours in the same uncomfortable position. 

Her eyes were narrowed with determination.

Her fists were clenched at her sides.

Her name was Clarice, and in her pocket she carried a small vial of liquid that would change everything.