[Soul Confirmed]
[Begin Soul Reallocation…]
[Soul Reallocated]
[Lazarus Protocol Completed]
[Initializing data...]
[Initialization complete]
"Son of a bitch." Irwin Bellios opened his blue eyes to a splutter of blood and saliva, his irises pulsing with blue light as blue windows displayed messages in the air.
He no sooner huffed a big breath of air than another stir lightened up his eyes as a slew of windowed messages bombarded him with warnings.
[Warning! Vital Signs Depleting]
[Warning! Extreme Blood Loss]
[Warning! Hypovolemic Shock In Progress]
[Warning! Death Imminent]
[Activating Genesis Protocol]
Cerulean light washed over him over and over again, each wave prickling his muscles and flesh. His pain receptors received much information that, even for a second of relief, it blocked its stimulus to numb his very senses. With bleary eyes and a heavy head, he tilted down and saw the state of his body. His guts spilled over to his side as multiple claw marks tore his torso to shreds; profuse blood spurted sporadically from the numerous holes in his body. He brought his trembling right hand near his chest, gingerly touching his right pectoral muscles before tracing it towards the left. He could taste the blood in the air as he felt a sudden drop in his chest. His index finger brushing against a wet elastic tube-like organelle. A shaky breath came out of him, for dread and panic had just set in. He was, after all, missing his fucking heart.
Irwin tried to move about but a sudden exhaustion hit him, in keeping with the blood loss and missing heart, forcing him to close his eyes momentarily. Memories raced through his mind as he stared at the inky blackness within his head. Tears threatening to rain down on his face, but an irrevocable urge, exuding from within his very essence, willed it back.
[Genesis Protocol Activated]
[Commencing Phase I: Teragenesis]
Another window carrying message appeared in his sight, even when closed. Following the appearance of the message was the sudden, yet impactful surge of pain that assaulted his whole body, but that too was soon gone when a firm elastic material bound his body. Completely enveloping his torso, squeezing the ever living shit out of his wounds. Yet, for some unknown reason, no pain nor buzzed numbness came upon him.
Cautiously opening his eyes to see his whole body wrapped up in thin light-blue fabric, light and elastic yet durable enough to restrain his limbs, keeping them from moving too strenuously. Although his sight could not reach his torso, the ever-increasing euphoria was evident of the miracle he was boring witness to. The pleasure, he thought, in the wake of pain and suffering he had experienced, was a god-send.
Less than a minute had passed when Irwin felt a beat. Its vibration awakening him from the near orgasmic pleasure. Although saddened by the removal of such intoxication, it was overridden by the relief of a beating heart and the loss of the unimaginable pain that had once wrecked his whole body.
With a cautious tone, he once again grazed his finger against the mold of his chest, feeling the flawless unwounded skin and, to his utter relief, the new moldy flesh atop his beating heart.
[Teragenesis Completed]
He opened his eyes to catch the cerulean filament wrapped around his body vanish and replaced by the sight of a globule of strange shiny red liquid aloft inches above him. Its surface quivering, thrilled for the chance of completing its designated mission. The liquid then burst into multiple drops that hurriedly shot through every orifice in Irwin's body.
[Commencing Phase II: Potentiality Enhancement]
"Auurghh!"
With a pained scream, he felt the liquid enter his mouth, ears, nose, eyes, and sphincter with such audacity that he wouldn't be surprised if the liquid was somehow related to Bill Cosby.
But contrary to his expectation, the liquid did not outright kill him. He felt every strand and sinew of muscle in his body began to taut and quiver until snapping like a stretched out rubber band before tying itself into a stronger and better strand. Every flesh, bone and organ rearranging itself, moving about his body as they too hardened and grew more efficient in their various purposes.
He looked towards his torso, seeing the moving muscles and pecks becoming less visible yet more compact, and ripped. Gaining more for less, a sight he would have been originally happy for, with it not being so painful.
It was not just his body which flourished, so too did his senses with his ears and eyes being better than it once was.
[Potentiality Enhancement Completed]
The pain suddenly died out the moment another windowed message appeared in his superior vision. Soothed by the removal of his pain, Irwin began laughing. His body felt healthier and stronger than ever, even breathing felt euphoric. But a sudden surge of heat startled him.
"Oh, come the fuck on!"
Like a fish in a dessert, Irwin flopped around as he felt every liquid in his body vaporized by the invisible flames.
[Commencing Last Phase: Blood Purging]
Irwin turned his body around on all fours, heaving through the intense heat. Sweat, tears, and blood rained down upon the hardwood floor as his new body made the pain worse than it ever was.
"Oh, fuck you! When I die from this, I will strangle your dick-aurgh!"
The pain forced him to his knees, torse bent backwards as a sudden urge to howl succumbed him. He saw his contorting figure from the ceiling mirror, his eyes glowing beet red. His finger nails morphing longer, sharper into a curved fine edge. His once flawless body growing hirsute, especially on his face, with his nose curving into a large snout.
"AWOOOO!"
Boom!
Howling into the moonless night accompanied by the thunderous roars of the worsening storm, Irwin felt his death was not too soon but before he could mourn his soul, a change soon occurred. The claws melted like a candle wax, hair burned by invisible flames, eyes reverting to its normal blue.
[Blood Purge Completed]
As soon as the pain subsided, Irwin became proud of himself for not relieving himself during the bouts of pain he had experienced. Catching his breath, anticipating another bout of pain, yet none came.
"Oh, fuck yes." Irwin chuckled as he grabbed the bedpost near him before another windowed message appeared at his sight.
[Congratulations on surviving that ordeal. Now, while I do admit that the soul swapping technology leaves much to be desired, you gotta hand it to me for inventing it, can't you?
I am an entity beyond your human comprehension and I, through the use of of my omnipotent powers, revived you whence you came. Intent on placing you across this vicious landscape for but one and only reason: enjoyment. Yours, mind you, for what greater gift could I have given to a fan such as you? To be amongst your own kin yet be apart from them for you, my tiny little stupid soul, are special.
I am sure you have multitudes of questions regarding your current situation, but I assure you, I will not answer any of them. Yes, I am an asshole. Deal with it.
What I do have for you is a brand-spanking new neural system, complete with integrated transmaterial transaction via a stable miniature wormhole technology; an automated mission counter via a psychic link connected to a universal matrix dedicated to materializing most components available to this universe; and, my magnum opus, a numerical approximation of the human anatomy and its physical, mental, and metaphysical condition linked to a real-time micro-monitoring system connected to the other two overall system abilities, thus, giving you the capacity to go above and beyond what a normal human being will be able to do.
Exciting, isn't it? C'mon, you can praise me.
Thank you!
Now, a few notes for this baby. I'm sure you can barely understand all these mechanics, but I can. Totally. Although this is just the third iteration of the system and there may be a few kinks and loose screws in there, it will not kill you. Hurt you? Yes, but not kill you.
Last agenda for this message is my apologies for the rough transition from body to body. Also that there will be no tutorial so your kind of on you're own for a while. Henceforth, I will provide you with three gifts, rewards, or whatever you wanna call it.
And that's it. You're on your own, bud. You can live, fuck, kill, die, or whatever it is you wanna do best to do it with your feet one step forward. Because this is it, once you die again, no one will save you. Good luck and may we never see each other again!
- Entity Beyond Human Comprehension]
[Please Confirm For System Activation]
"Oh, fuck you!"
Boom!
The rapid transition from pain to relief to pain to relief had taken a toll on Irwin's psyche. But he trudged through it and stood up, using the nearby bedpost to steady himself. Growing accustomed to his better sight, Irwin scrutinized his new surroundings.
To his utter surprise and horror, a naked female body lie mangled atop the bed, her blood dampening the silk sheets. Nearby closet and table burst asunder, records of the previous battle that took place in this very room. Blood trailed across the bed towards him, accompanied by small claw marks scraped that the floorboards.
Irwin then looked at his outfit. His suit, torn to pieces, bloodied and wet from the liquid that gushed out of him mere moments ago.
Bang! Bang!
"This is the FBI. Open up!" A voice roared through the room's door, startling Irwin from his musings.
"It's alright. It's cool. First things first. Need to get the fuck outta here." He reminded himself, lest someone saw the scene and accuse him of killing the woman.
He lurched forward, nearly slipping from the puddle of blood around him. Although the storm had been ravaging the outside world, Irwin did not have any other option, seeing as he had an inkling that going through the door would be detrimental to his current position.
Bang! Bang!
He unclasped the French window to the balcony, hand trembling in undisguised dread. The rain assaulted him as he opened the window, the blustering wind rushing against him yet he trudged forward with all his might.
Bang! Bang!
The ancient oak tree stood steadily in his sight, its leaves swaying against the tendrils of the thunderstorm. Hands grabbing the rails of the balcony, gingerly placing his foot to the other side, careful not to slip and crack his head.
With his hands behind him, he faced his body forward, rain striking him hard, ready to jump through 20 feet of air, but before he could, a message appeared before him.
[My first gift. - Entity Beyond Human Comprehension]
[Memory Pack #1 Uploading]
A sudden influx of information barge into his psyche, traipsing through his hippocampus. A tide of murky waters pulling him into a whirlpool of memories. Memories of the past, not distant ones, but of the nearby past. The agent, his father, the storm, the woman — all of it came upon him. Branding him the knowledge of the beginning. The beginning of what? He asked, yet none answered, for they were not capable of knowing thus.
The woman, Mary Anne, a student of California State University, Long Beach. Once visioned herself as a director of great renown, like her idol and fellow alumnus, but was now nothing but a corpse strewn atop a bed of a playboy.
A playboy, hedonist with nary a care in the world. His body was once thus but died from an ambush. Ambush from a shadowy figure, tall and slender yet with a strength none but a strongman could wield. Wield did the shadow with a knife like claws, shredding him to pieces.
[Memory Pack #1 Upload Completed]
Click! Boom!
"SEBASTIAN ARCHIBALD RICHARD GREYTHORNE IV! What have you done?"
"Son of a bitch..." Irwin snorted as he felt his hands removed its grasp on the rails, feeling the winds rush against his flesh as he fell to the ground.
Bang!
●●●Main Study●●●
Archibald crossed the room as he tried to follow the screams above the room. The three of them as they conversed about how to proceed with the federal agent's investigation when the blood-curdling scream of his son startled them.
The agent hurriedly took his gun out and ran out of the room, but not before telling them to stay put. Which were immediately disregarded, for Archibald cared much too great for his son's welfare.
"Wallace, tell your fools to stay put." Archibald ordered as he trudged towards the staircase.
"It was not mine, brother," Replied Wallace with a concerned expression. "But whoever it was, we need to stop them from killing the agent."
Tack! Tack!
Archibald's cane tapped against the steps of the staircase. His gaze soon saw Mrs. Thorrin's calm demeanor, guarding the door to Annalise's room, with the agent banging his shoulders against the frame of his son's door.
Archibald trudged nearer to Mrs. Thorrin, his gaze not leaving the agent's figure. "Protect my daughter. Never let her out of your sight."
"Yes, master Archibald," Mrs. Thorrin answered immediately, her hands opening the door and entering inside of it. "Do be careful, sir."
Archibald nodded whilst his brother carried on and placated the agent.
"It's alright, agent. We have a key." Wallace said, producing an ornate golden key from within his coat before inserting it inside the hole and unlocking the door.
"Let me handle this, brother." Archibald grabbed the door handle from his brother, giving him a knowing look.
Click! Creak!
Archibald opened the hurriedly opened the door, his gaze training on the wet figure of his half naked son perched on the edge of the room's balcony. The mangled body whom accompanied his son moments ago lie a corpse atop his bed. Puddles of blood and strewn furniture littered around the room, marks of skirmish evident on the surroundings.
Boom!
"SEBASTIAN ARCHIBALD RICHARD GREYTHORNE IV!" Archibald's bellow thundered across the room, matching the roar of the lightning strike. "What have you done?"
His son turned towards him before snorting. "Son of a bitch."
And then he fell.
Bang!
●●●Courtyard●●●
[Please Confirm For System Activation]
"Shut up," Irwin groaned, shuddering from the pain of his fall. Though he had no broken bones or scarred flesh, it was still over a ten-foot drop. "Why the fuck was he there?"
Another question popped up in his mind. The moment he had let go, he saw the familiar visage of a man, no, an actor. He disregarded the pain as he pushed his hands through the mud filled earth and turned around, his belly now being pelted by the rain.
His eyes, though hazy, could still eye the shocked amd worried faces of three men atop the second floor balcony.
His supposed father, Archibald, his uncle, Wallace, and the agent. Sharp nose, round black eyes, short skater haircut, and a suit that two sizes too big. "Holy shit. DJ Quall."
[Memory Pack #2 Uploading]
Another influx bombarded his brain with memories after memories. His eyes twitched in pain as he blacked out.
●●●Main Study●●●
The Greythornes, for all their worth, are a newly instated family in Lisbon Valley. Moving a year before the start of the 21st century, they had familiarized themselves amongst the locals using generous donations and well-timed dinners with proper authorities. The mayor of the Valley had even named their newly built harbor after the patriarch of the family: Archibald Port, they call it now. One of the signs that they essentially own this Valley, nary crime nor misdemeanors would go past the social barriers of this town without the firm consent of the Greythornes.
That is why Lord Sebastian William Archibald Greythorne III, family patriarch, is very much certain that whomsoever heard of his son's wrongdoing would find it very hard to live a normal life; in fact, they soon best forget about it. But that leaves only one person in the whole Lisbon Valley aware and, quite possibly, thinking of apprehending his son. The FBI Agent Brit Neal Spears, whom, alongside his brother, witnessed his son leaving the crime son, bloody and frightened.
Thank you, Ella. Please attend to my son." Archibald smiled at the maid that brought him a much needed calming tea.
"Of course, sir," the maid replied with a curtsy. "And mother would like you to know that Lady Annalise and Lady Anastasia are fine and have been placated."
"Thank you, Ella. You may leave now." It was Wallace who replied, truly grateful for the information regarding his wife.
The maid bowed once again before leaving through the door.
Creak!
A silence entered the room before being broken by Archibald.
"A conundrum. Yes, it quite is, is it not, brother?" Archibald asks of his brother, whose own visage replicated the marbled busts on the steps of their grand staircase. "Brother?"
"Do you know what you're doing, brother?" Wallace's guttural voice echoed throughout the room, his gaze trained on the ancient oak tree standing tall against the might of the hungering storm.
Archibald knew his brother's worries for, unlike him, Wallace is a stickler for tradition. Wallace was always going about spouting meaningless tirade against the rise of technology or about the weakening hold of their ancestors in the mortal world. It was, for the last ten years, rather exhausting to live with him. Yet, for all his problems, he could not quite quit on his brother. He was, after all, his last remaining relative in this world who truly knew of their family's history.
Even far from their ancestral grounds, he still felt nostalgic for the bygone era of the yesteryears. Yet, for all its worth, he could not and would not risk his child to please a monster. Not anymore, he won't.
"I do, brother," Archibald replied after a while. "And I'll make sure we'll get through this. Like we always do."
Wallace sighed in annoyance, his hands pinching the bridge of his nose. "You cannot always protect him. He has already struck, even when a hunter is sniffing on our yard."
"Yes. I will. And the next time he feeds on a person in my son's room, I will bring hellfire and brimstone upon his ancient ass and smoke him to high fucking heaven!" Archibald's voice thundered across the room as he bombarded the startled Wallace with threats. "That is my son! My family."
"And are we not your family, too?" Wallace, too, raised his voice, matching his brother's. "Are we not important too? We have been through hell, Archibald. I have saved your life countless of times and yet this is how you repay me?"
"I have repaid you!"
Boom!
Thunder struck near the manor as the two screamed at each other. Tension ran unfettered around the room as they locked gazed on each other. Both men had their fists clenched, for they knew this conversation was bound to happen soon. Wallace and his lackeys have been running around the Valley like uncontrolled dogs and they placed the burden of hiding their actions upon the weary shoulders of Archibald.
"I have repaid you. I have lost everything for you. I have ended everything just for you. So, please, brother, for my sake, please, do not let my son join you." With a weary tone, Archibald pleaded for his brother's mercy, for he knew the Wallace was the leader of their little group, seeing as their ancestor was sleeping.
"I'm sorry, brother, but he must. We have already been weakened, reduced to naught but a handful. A far cry from our grand origins. So, I will ask you one last time, join us, receive the gift, and let us employ our revenge." Wallace too took a gentler tone before asking for his brother's help. Yet he knew that deep down, his brother would never agree. Call it brother's intuition, but he did not like it.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Everything cool? Heard some screaming." The hollow voice of Agent Spears rang through the wooden door.
"We're good, Agent. Be right there with you." Archibald answered, placating the hunter. "We'll talk about this later. Have Ellaisa serve drinks for the Agent."
Wallace merely grunted as he watched his brother leave the room before dropping down to his chair with a tired sigh. He knew what he had to do yet, some part of him urged him to reconsider.
"I'm sorry, brother. I really am."