WARNING: STRONG GORE & BODY HORROR CONTENT

EVER SINCE I WAS LITTLE, I'VE ALWAYS ASKED MYSELF…

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please…forgive me."

… "WHY DOES THE WORLD FEAR MONSTERS…

A small frail boy whispered frantically as he hurdled to a corner in the dark room he was in. All he was wearing was a tattered oversized white shirt that made it look like a gown, however it did nothing to hide telltale horrors a child his age should never have gone through. His body was so thin, so malnourished, that every bone pressed sharply against his sickly pale skin, his ribs heaving as if they might break through with every shallow, panicked breath. His oversized, tattered clothes hung from his bony shoulders like rags on a broken doll exposing crisscrossed scars and exposed skin, the fabric stained with the gore of the nightmare that had just unfolded before him.

Before his sunken, tear-filled eyes lay the grotesque, lifeless remains of his mother. Her mutated body was an abomination of flesh and bone, her once warm, vibrant skin now peeling away in chunks, revealing raw muscle beneath. The acrid stench of rancid blood and acidic decay filled the air, making his stomach churn violently, though he had long since stopped having anything to vomit. Her form was twisted and bloated, her limbs unnaturally elongated, claws where soft hands once were. What was left of her face—a horrifying blend of human and monstrous—stared lifelessly back at him, her eyes clouded over yet still hauntingly locked on him, as though in eternal, silent agony.

The boy clutched his shaking hands to his chest, fingers coated in her blood, trembling uncontrollably as the reality of what he had done sank in. His hands, so small and fragile, felt alien to him now—tools of destruction, forced to end the suffering of the one person who had ever tried to protect him. He couldn't stop staring at them, his nails cracked and broken, his palms sticky with the congealing, unnatural ichor that had spilled from her body when he was forced to... He couldn't even finish the thought.

His legs, stick-thin and barely able to support him, had collapsed beneath him moments after the deed was done. Now, he huddled in a pitiful heap, his knees pulled tight to his chest, as though trying to protect what little remained of his fractured soul. The dim, flickering light of the lab illuminated every tear streak on his gaunt face, his wide, hollow eyes reflecting the carnage like mirrors of despair.

"I-I didn't mean to-I didn't want to-Please forgive me…" Those were the same words he had been spilling from his cracked lips the whole time.

… WHEN IT MAKES THEM?"

The air felt oppressive, pressing against his frail body like an iron vice, and every breath burned in his throat as though it were filled with acid. The coppery taste of blood lingered in his mouth, remnants of a scream he'd been too terrified to let out. His ears still rang with the echoes of her distorted cries, her voice no longer human in her final moments. It was a sound that would never leave him, clawing at the edges of his sanity like a relentless specter.

And then there was the floor. The cold metal was slick with her remains—viscous pools of dark, rancid blood that shimmered with an unnatural greenish hue, mixed with clumps of what might once have been human tissue. It seeped toward him like it was alive, tendrils of guilt and despair stretching closer to ensnare him. He pressed himself harder against the corner, his spine digging into the unforgiving wall, as though he could disappear into it and escape the horror that enveloped him.

But he couldn't escape. Not the sight, not the smell, not the knowledge that he had killed her with his own hands—mutated, uncontrollable hands that his father had turned into weapons. He couldn't even cry anymore; his tears had dried up hours ago, leaving his face a mask of salt and despair. His voice was gone too, his throat raw from screaming her name as he begged her to come back, even though he knew she never would.

In that moment, he wasn't just a boy. He was a ghost of himself, hollowed out and shattered, staring into the abyss of a life that had been stolen from him piece by agonizing piece. He ignored the sound of sirens getting louder, the sounds of footsteps running towards the house echoing like the throbbing of his beating heart. The abyss stared back, and it offered no solace—only the faint, cruel echoes of his father's laughter still ringing in his ears.

Present day

The boy; now a man; was strapped to a lab table, his appearance ragged and awful. Although having a muscular physique there is obvious toll of physical torture done to his body. His body covered with layers of scars and exposed muscles, his veins glowing a revolting green from God knows what has been done to him. Wirings connected to various machineries were tapped all over his body. A mass of drool pooled his charred lips from the gruesome round he just had to endure. The only thing he had as clothing was a pair of torn trousers.

A silhouette of a face hovered over the strapped man; the face obscured due to the lighting from the led light above the ceiling.

"James, are you feeling alright?" The silhouette asked with a firm voice laced with concern, but James knew any better.

"How can I be after everything you are putting me through…you bastard." James; the individual strapped to the table replied. Instead of replying, the person stood straight back up and scribbled unto a clipboard.

"Outstanding, it seems that you can still form words after going through extreme physical toll." The individual looked down at James for some time before turning to leave. "We'll resume in the morning."

"Why?" James asked weakly, making the man stop in his tracks and look back at him.

"Because…you are special to me. You should be honored…" He said as he cupped James' battered and sullen cheeks with his gloved hand. "…my best friend."

The moment he said that, a well-aimed spit shot from James' mouth and landed on the scientist's cheek.

"You lost that title the moment you strapped me to this confinement." The scientist barely felt any hurt from the spit on his cheek, merely cleaning it off with his other gloved hand. The other slid down to settle on James' throat and squeezed harshly.

"Can't really blame me for this James. This isn't your first rodeo with this. Your father who gave you life used you; so why can't I do the same. Afterall, friends should help each other out." His face etched closer to James' who now had angry tears streaming down his face. "But if you are so willing to show a lot of energy this evening, let me exert that from you." 

With a set of buttons pressed from a monitor beside him, a device roared to life from above the ceiling zeroing down on the strapped James. His bloodshot eyes widened in horror, his bodily instinctively trying to pry off the restraints on his limbs.

"No. No..No please-I'm begging you-make it stop!!!"

The scientist only looked on in apathy and turned his face away, readjusting his labcoat then walked away. James terrified gaze shifted from the descending machinery to the departing figure. The machine was filled with an ominous green liquid, a needle shaped like a piercing sword ejected from the tip only adding to the fear gripping James' heart.

"Please don't leave me here!!!" The needled had descended and is injected into an open wound likely gotten from this same device. Its chemical content flowed through James' bloodstream, all James could do was release an ungodly scream of intense agony.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" The veins in his body began glowing a vibrant green, from his arm down to his legs till it reached his head. His eyes glowed the same color as it burned with pain and fury.

The scientist was already by the door, taking a look at his "friend" before the automated doors closed shut. Screams of a man were shut off from the oblivious world, as James suffered this gruesome onslaught all on his own. The light emitting from James outshined the led lights above him, then something terrifying began to unfold.

Through all the gruesome and heart wrenching screaming, on the walls was the shadow of James as he writhed and convulsed in excruciating pain, turning to a hulking creature. His body strained until it grew in size slowly but very much surely, taking the form of an animalistic being. His screams turning animalistic and distorted at the same time.

Trust is a poison I'll never drink again. The moment you let someone close, they twist the knife deeper... and I've run out of blood to bleed.

"GGGRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"