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Callum

Finally. All these years I've been searching for her and here she sits, mere feet away from me in all her faded glory. On any normal day when in the presence of Bexley Brooks, I could find myself admiring all of her beauty. Long, auburn hair cascading over her shoulders. Smooth pale skin with a hint of pink in all the right places; a reminder of the beating heart inside her. The blend of colors in her hazel eyes were mesmerizing, bewitching; they were my weakness. But with walls between us, safely hidden behind two-way glass, I can only manage to notice the flaws that sixteen years worth of aging have painted onto her canvas; and I am the bearer of the brush.

A thrill rolled through me at that thought and I tightened my arms across my chest, pressing my lips together firmly. It would be a lie to say that I didn't enjoy having that power. But that didn't mean my heart hadn't broken into a million pieces when I chose to take hers away. If only she could see things my way. We could have saved so many together. We could have ruled; god and goddess. But instead she chose him.

A warm trickle of liquid down my arm broke me out of my fanciful thoughts and I looked down. Dark red blood oozed up and out from under my fingertips, which were pressed deep into my bicep. Jaw set, I uncrossed my arms and watched as new flesh weaved it's way over the deep circular holes, translucent at first but slowly growing thicker until it was as if they were never there.

When Dr. Martin Brooks had taken me on as his sole research assistant, we'd started with simple regeneration of cells. The intricacy of something so simple had always fascinated me. Dr. Brooks's work in the field was unmatched and to say it surprised me that I was the one he chose to be by his side throughout his amazing discoveries would be a grand understatement. Several years into the project, and several months into my tryst with his only daughter, we achieved the breakthrough we had needed.

Bexley had run into the lab cradling her beloved dog, Hugo, who had just been struck by a security vehicle. She plowed past us both, and stepped directly into the sphere of the machine. Distraught, tears pouring down her blotchy red cheeks, she begged her father to use it to heal the poor animal, whose long legs dangled limply over her arms. Martin argued that it wasn't ready for live trial yet, but she was relentless. She lay the prone animal down gingerly on the floor of the machine and rushed to the controls, flipping the switch.

The machine surged on, its power fizzled and popped in the air. We all stared as the mass of electric current ran through Hugo and then stopped, motor whirring as it slowed and switched off. Bexley stepped forward slowly and knelt next to Hugo inside the sphere. His wounds had slowly started to close, but he remained motionless. Seemingly defeated, she fell back into a sit, pulling the animal into her lap, her shoulders shaking.

There was something about that moment; seeing Bexley's raw emotion, seeing the look of utter helplessness in her father's eyes, and the blank stare in the eyes of Hugo. Before I had known what I was doing, I was at the control panel, clicking the dial to its highest setting. And then I flipped the switch.

The discharge of energy pulsed through the room like a shockwave, sending papers flying through the air as the blinding flash of blue lightning coursed through both their bodies, shooting out the ends of Bexley's fingers and the tips of her hair.

Martin shoved me out of the way, slowly lowering the power level and switching off the machine, and I watched, transfixed, as the Great Dane stirred and slowly stood up, nudging Bexley with his massive head. Her glassy eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine as I stepped forward and held out my hand. Her fingers slid across my palm, sending a tingle of electric current into my skin and up through my arm.

That was the day I made her. The day that started it all. After months of brutal testing, it was determined that we had achieved the impossible. Living beings no longer needed to be fragile. No more disease. No more death. Just life. Martin had graciously allowed me to be the next. We were on a good path. Then he made him. And everything changed.

An intercom inside the wall next to me buzzed to life, snapping me out of my head and back to the present.

"Sir, we've apprehended Captain Donovan. He's in a holding cell in the sick bay."

I pressed hard on the faded yellow button to respond. "Do not open that cell for any reason without my authority. That's an order."

"Yes, sir." The com clicked off and I turned my attention back to Bexley, who was now looking straight at me, as though she could see me through the two-way glass. A smile quirked the corner of my mouth. Smart girl, she knew me well. Well enough to know my next move.

********************

A/N:

It's been a while! Feels good to be back. :)

I hope you all liked a taste of Callum!

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I hope you all liked a taste of Callum!

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 18, 2018 ⏰

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