DarkWing (Final Editing in Progress)

Chapter 2 - A Beginning, An End

"No. That's not good enough. The doctor's said-" I was about to start crying again when the secretary cut me off.

"Yes, I understand sir, you need to help your mother, and under the circumstances I am doing the best I can, but my superiors refuse to provide the messiah gene to test subjects or relations of test subjects until next week."

"But please! She might not even last a week!"

Here I was, partially screaming partially crying at this poor woman that probably had to deal with cases like mine everyday. She had to get yelled at, then turn away these desperate people because all she was paid to do was to take their name and phone number, and put it on a list. I knew yelling at her would get me nowhere, and I knew that there was nothing she could do for me, but I just couldn't help myself.

A couple of tears slipped out of my eyes and landed on the smooth, golden-brown wood desk with a glossy finish. I looked down on it and tried to imagine the number of tears that have been shed onto this table. All of a sudden, I heard a deep voice from behind me.

"Sir." I spun around to see a man around 5'11", a good inch taller than me, in glasses and a labcoat holding out a clipboard with a sheet of paper on it. Behind him, then sun was rising and it shone through the glass walls reinforced with a metal frame. I was hunched over the desk, with my arms propping me up. In that position, and with the sun making it very difficult for me to look up at him, it was a very ominous situation, but I didn't have a choice.

"I'll handle this, Sharon," he said as he looked past me to the secretary. She nodded, and returned to her work. There was that typing again, I felt more relaxed. I glanced behind me to see the secretary intently staring at her computer screen, then faced this stranger. The man looked back at me. "Under the circumstances, I think we can make an exception. Also, we happen to have a shortage of volunteers today so I guess it's your lucky day. Please just follow me and fill out this form."

I looked down at the clipboard and smiled. I reached for it and found myself shaking. I grabbed the clipboard slowly, and looked up at him. He smiled back to me.

"Do you ha-" I said until my voice gave out. With all of the screaming and crying, I didn't realize how hoarse my voice had become. I cleared my throat, wiped my eyes, and started again.

"Do you have a pen...?"

"Oh of course," he said as he reached into the inside pocket of his labcoat and pulled one out. "Sorry," he said as he handed it to me.

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you so much..."

"Experiment 47B09: Test Subject 2A: Homo Sapien - Corvus Corax."

"That's quite a title," I thought to myself. "I wish I knew what it meant." I began reading the application sheet as the man led me down a series of hallways and doors. It started off pretty basic: Name, Sex, Address, Age, Height, Date of Birth. But soon it started to become a little weird.

It asked for my regular diet, history of addictions, mental illnesses, eye color, average stress levels, number of hours slept every night, how late I would usually stay up. I guess looking back, these questions weren't that strange, but then it got much worse.

It began asking questions like "How frequently do you masturbate," "How many friends do you see on a daily basis," "How often do you cut your nails," "What kind of weather do you prefer," "How often have you moved houses," "Are you afraid of commitment," "How many times have you been in a relationship that failed because of you." It was page after page of questions. After awhile I just wanted to write in big letters "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS," but then I remembered why I was there, what was on the line, and I kept going.