The Lab (Septiplier)

Chapter 1; Seán

July 15th, 2007
When you're sixteen and naïve, you have an entire world in front of you. You never expect that you might get tossed into a nightmarish scenario. I had even trained to deal with similar emergencies; I had to expect anything and everything when I lived in a family of Shifters. Once one of the last in Ireland, in fact.
It was only a few days before my parents' anniversary and I had holed myself up in my room as per usual. Any siblings that still lived at home were with our parents in the living room. We were a quiet family, we almost never fought. Most of my siblings were in college, but I was finishing up high school courses from our cabin. Only two were at home at the time, but I later heard over the news that they had been dealt similar fates as my parents.
He came in through the open kitchen window, no one could have seen it coming. No one expected that a drunk assassin would be the end of the McLoughlin's. The bastard shot most of my innocent family, not even giving them the mercy of a quick death. He was shooting wildly, his hands shaking with intoxication until the remaining few were mere slabs of meat.
When the first shot went off, I came out of my room and slunk around the corner to see what the noise was. The sight of blood sent me scrambling back to my room to call the police, hoping that they would care enough to send someone out. I received the default message, telling me someone would be there soon and that I shouldn't worry, but I was barely listening. I was already crawling out the window. There was no way to save my family. Not with the damage already done, and not without getting myself killed as well. There was silence in the house, only bare whisperings of footsteps. I needed to run, to disappear. My father would always say, "If it comes down to family or the survival of our race, you choose our race, and you regroup." Everything felt numb as I ran, the sound of crunching leaves and my own heavy breathing echoing like a distorted ambiance. I had reached the edge of the woods, and when sound caught up to me I heard the click and creaky swing of the backdoor. Panicked, I ran faster than I previously thought possible. I sprinted deep into the woods and didn't look back. Nothing deterred me, not even the police cars screeching to a halt in my driveway.
When I came back to the house several weeks later, the police had already taken the bodies away. The walls, which once had my family's love and bond etched into the wood, were now tarnished with bloodstains and the odor of death. I forced myself to recognize that this empty house was no longer my home. The realization was sharp, a dagger of ice straight through my soul. A violent tremor ran throughout my body and my legs threatened to collapse. I steeled myself. I still needed to get the mementos and supplies left here. Logic, no emotions; I repeated it to myself like a mantra. Deciding to start with my room, I hopscotched around the mess, and silently ascended the old staircase.
There wasn't much of use left in my room. I snagged the pictures of my friends and family, and grabbed some of the survival bracelets I used to collect. The neon pink one amused me, if only for a moment. I grabbed some other random survival gear as well; waterproof matches, clothes, a heavy-duty camouflage blanket and more. Then reality finally caught up with me. I'm a Shifter. Planning to hang out in the woods until the situation cooled down won't be nearly enough. A large part of the police are part of the an anti-shifter group known as Societas Sanguinem Mundi, or the Society of the Clean Blood. Most know them as the SSM. I wouldn't survive a day with them if I got caught. I grabbed more clothes, added a few extra stops to my list and moved on. I went quickly through the house, trying to get what I needed before anyone showed up. Some food from the kitchen, towels, and other necessities were all stuffed unceremoniously into a backpacking bag. Going over a list in my head, I realize that I will need to pass as human and hiding my ears and tail for more than a few hours can put excessive strain my body. I grope blindly around under one of the books on the bookshelf until my fingers come across the small button, and the bookshelf swings inward to reveal a set of stairs spiraling into shadow.
I step gingerly down the stairs, cringing at the occasional creak of the old wood. Once I find the cold floor of the basement I reach up for the chain to turn on the light. It clicks on after a few flickers. Glancing around, I'm thankful that the room is merely dusty. Nothing important seems to be missing among the piles of boxes and forgotten memories. I take as many books and potion supplies as I can and stuff them into a second, much smaller bag. I set down the bags, careful not to break any. I rummage around in the junk until I come upon a small locked box, and insert the matching key. Resting on the old wood as if asleep lays an old necklace my grandfather gave me, a simple chain, and some hurriedly scribbled notes for spells and potions I came up with. The metal is cold around my neck, but still feels familiar and comforting. I tuck the papers into a folder before putting them into the smaller bag as well.
***
August 5, 2009
It's been two years since I left that house. After roaming around the woods for a while, I started walking until I had passed two towns and had just come upon a third. At this point I had dubbed myself a runaway, set myself to a life of living off the streets until I eventually found a job and an apartment. After a few days I managed to find an opening at some shitty fast food place. It's not the best, but it pays the bills.
I snap out of my thoughts, blearily looking around the small grocery store. As usual, the cashier is listening to the news. The hood of my raincoat casts shadows over my face, and drips water onto my nose every few steps as I walk about the store looking for cheap items to eat this week. I faintly register the soft murmur of the TV police report echoing through the store.
"After a two-year investigation on the murder at the McLoughlin household, the police have discovered a suspect. A recent reevaluation of the house has uncovered fingerprints of an elusive Seán McLoughlin," My ears prick up. Local news is often listened to, but I never would have expected to hear about my family's case again. A man with a husky voice comes on next; "We are led to believe that the missing child Seán McLoughlin was the murderer. Because of the severity of the case, the SSM is helping fund the search," I grind my teeth and force myself to tune out the television.
Of course the SSM is on my case, I think, pulling my hood down to cover my face, I am so screwed. Moving briskly, I grab some road food, pay, and hightail it. I am so lucky I decided to try a new store today. Rushing back to my tiny apartment, I start to shove everything in my packs. I grab clothes, food, water, and send a quick email to my boss to say that I am quitting immediately. I layer on a few more jackets, change shoes, and snag my hidden stash of cash before heading out the door. My technological devices, the spare key, and anything else they could track me with stay in the room. I take long strides out the front door of the complex, calling out a quick goodbye to the person at the front desk.
I know there's a trail only a few blocks from here that leads straight into the woods, and have hiked it many times since coming here. So, deciding to play it safe, I take side roads and back alleyways, trying not to go anywhere too shady. I make it to the trail without a hitch and start hiking. No one asks questions, I don't hear whispering. They must think I'm a backpacker. Up ahead I see a fork in the road so I head left onto the less traveled path, until it finally turns into unforgiving forest. I keep on until it's dark, trying my best to stray from the path so that I don't happen upon someone who might recognize me. Exhausted from the endless walking and earlier panic, I find a good place to set up camp and collapse as soon as I have the bedroll down.
For a long while I just stare up at the forest canopy and think. I know I am going to need a proper plan. Ireland is very small; the police will be able to find me without a doubt. The EU might be alerted if they can't find me when they sweep Ireland. I could always fly somewhere, but I don't really know where I could go. I should have enough money for one flight, but I can make it count. It's likely I have a week before they get to the edges of Ireland. Big cities are not an option, so I could travel to the Galway Airport. The actual airport is on the outskirts of the city and considering I'm still a technical suspect, not accused of anything, I could get through on a flight somewhere. Perhaps America, they won't look twice there. Especially if I change my name. Ma always called me Jack, so that'll be a good first name, but what last name? Brown? Evans? Maybe something classic, like Williams. Perfect.
To get to the airport, I will need to hike or hitchhike. Hiking seems like the safer option. I know that Galway is East of here, so I will head out in the morning and book the earliest flight when I get there. My stuff is stored high in a tree and I am hidden under my warm camouflage survival blanket. It's heavy, but well worth the effort. I fall asleep, tired from the long trek, but prepared for what tomorrow might bring.