///On Hiatus\\\ [Stories That Never Took Off]

Codex

hello! this is a work in progress [WIP]

do you like sci-fi? mutations like Maximum Ride? Don't worry, there are two guys in this story, so it's not completely devoid of love.

There's Jase for all you laconic, stoic, cool, guy lovers. And then there's Xander for the energetic, funny, sweet guy lovers.

Then there's Halia: the kick ass girl who knows how to fight.

how about it? read on please!

*do you like it? or think it's average? how about amazing?

please tell me!

read, fan, comment, vote!

HEY!

THE COVER IS AWESOME RIGHT?

MADE BY MY LOVER; PANDORE!!

<33 love you forever!! moulin rouge !!

thanks so much(:

~~~

Everything was white. So blindingly pale and lifeless, it felt like the walls were closing in on me. Like a straight jacket, the unbearable sterile scent pressed against every sense, rendering me as useless as I felt.

"Experiment 3017." The voice above me commanded my attention, but I didn't move. I didn't give a hint that I had registered the use of my Code. Hands gripped my shoulders, the grimy fingernails digging into my exposed skin. I held back a whimper, and fixed my eyes on a nonexistent speck on the white wall.

"3017!" the hand whipped across my face, and my patience snapped. I could hear the other scientists scurrying to hold back the one that had tried to attack me. The stupid interns were always overstepping the fine line between the respectful anger directed to both sides; us versus them. For the first time in what felt like eons, I felt a smile grace my pale face. My head swiveled to the side to gaze into the depths of all the eyes staring at me. Their minds were unprepared, their barriers falling in their effort to contain me. But it was too late. It was all to late.

I could feel the haze clouding my mind, the raw power flooding through my system. I sought for the right Rune. I scoured my brain, hating the fact that I'd only mastered so many Runes, with all the time I've been stuck in this hell hole.

There were only two of my kind in existence. I'm not even sure if we have a scientific name yet, the white coated morons at this place are too scared to deal with us most of the time. Our powers were out of their control. Or rather, out of their control. Unlike the other mutation experiments, we didn't have wings to clip or fangs to sand down. Our power resided in the mind, the Runes. Mastery of words and thoughts lent to our extreme nature. We were the new mental weapons, created as recon soldiers, experts in torture and under cover operations. Too bad they couldn't control us.

There were certain words in any language that held deep magic in them, the power of my kind was to find these words and unlock their inner potential. The power stemmed from Ancient Latin, the words Gods used to communicate. Over time, the pure Runes had been evolving, reduced to modern day speech. A waste of talent. Until... us.

That's what we could be called: the Translators. Ooh, scary. I felt the word forming in my mind, my lips molding to whisper the word. Eyes flashing open, they glowed a bright carmine, "Thurisaz."

Laughter rang out through the room. Maniacal fits of glee bursting through my thin lips. I watched in horrifying happiness how they collapsed to the floor, their limbs contorted in unnatural shapes. I fixated my gaze on one young scientist, his arms were being bent back at an odd angle, his voice shrieking.