Chapter one: The Beginning

Just the beginning chapter to start.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn with me?” Jaclyn’s father demands.

Jaclyn was in her father’s basement, an eyebrow raised with her long arms folded against her chest, while she stares at her father. She was dragged down there when her mother went to the store for some cheap groceries, whilst her father saw the opportunity. Jaclyn was a polite girl, but when it comes to her lunatic dad�"well, she doesn’t get so nice from there.

Teeth bared in a wicked snarl, she shouts back, “I was never stubborn with you! I let you have your way and now look at me! I’m somebody I don’t want to be!” He clenches his fists tightly and folds his arms across his broad chest, mimicking his daughter’s tall, brave stance. Jaclyn stares straight in his dark, pitted eyes, not daring to look away. He narrows his eyes to slits too, not letting his daughter win the silent argument crackling in the air like electricity.

“Why? Just, why?” Jaclyn’s voice changes from fiery to stone cold sincerity, making her show weakness, which she didn’t like. But all she wanted was to know the truth, why her father made her the way she was, why he wanted her to become the monster she didn’t want to be, let alone fear it too.

But he was just trying to help, a loud voice in her head argues. Jaclyn keeps staring into her father’s eyes as she tries to multitask between the two arguments. Finally, after what seemed like a never-endless staring contest that made Jaclyn squirm inside, her father broke the frigid ice.

Turning away from her and throwing his arms in the air, he swipes at his desk, causing all of his work to clatter to the floor. “Because. You can’t go out there without being armed and�"”

“What to be armed for? Huh, dad? What for?” Jaclyn snarls, rage taking control once again. “For the supposed virus? The virus that you said�"not anyone else�"that would start judgment day?” She pokes a finger in his chest, “The one, where everyone was supposed to be sick and die.” Jaclyn throws her hands in the air, trying to shake off the rage that boiled inside of her like magma.

Her father, Ian, sits in his chair and rubs his eyes open-handed. “Why don’t you listen to me for once?! The world will be plagued by the sky above, and you will have to be armed for it. It will happen, someday.” And with that, Ian storms out of the basement room, his heavy footsteps giving off the vibe that he wasn’t going to let this go. Ian always held grudges, and it made Jaclyn sick inside.

Jaclyn contains herself with a deep breath and tries to shut off her mind. But she found that it was spinning 3 times faster and gave up when her brain resisted her weak attempt. She rubs her temples and looks at her hands while taking a seat in her dad’s worn office chair. Her long, bony fingers flex as she commands, as she wishes, but she still doesn’t know how her father did it. How he added those long, sharp fingernails, the ones that sliced like daggers. How they grow at her command like it was as simple as moving her hand. How Ian changed her eye color, ensuring they promised death and bloodbaths. She hated it all, but she also hated how, deep, deep down, she liked the sharp daggers. How she loved the fear she was promised she will bring, and how she will become someone strong. Someone that doesn’t get pushed around, where no one would mess with her, because they know better.

 Because all Jaclyn wanted was respect. The thing came when you wanted it most, but she never really got the sweet filling she yearned. All she got was a substitute of hatred and self-doubt. And she hated both the way she was treated, how she knew it was not her fault but still hated herself for believing it was true, and how she hated herself for liking Ian’s creations of her. Jaclyn knew she looked like a monster, and she hated almost every bit of it. Except for the revengeful voice that loved the look on her like it was a cute shirt.  

  Jaclyn twitches her fingers and looks at her shockingly growing nails. They grow in a sword-shaped way, thinning out as they emerge further until they went sharply tipped at the end. She watches in both horror and amazement as her daggers finally come to a halt.

Jaclyn could also feel something shift in her eyes, a light shaking to them as if they were having mini-earthquakes. She knew how they look, how they functioned as a second coat of eyes, but better. The blood red swirls and orange flames encircled her irises so that the black stands out like death itself. What her father had promised. And she hated him most when it came to times like these that she was about ready to die than rather be stuck with him in the cramped office space.

 Ian was never a kind father to her, Jaclyn misbehaving unintentionally when she was young could give her a black eye or two. But no doubt she loved her father when he switched off to be a nicer man, the one her mother always had seen him as. And Jaclyn hated him for doing that dirty switch, being someone he wasn’t. But her love for him was somewhat like any other dad because she knew deep down he loved her. If not, why would he spend weeks on end to create the monster he wanted her to be? When Jaclyn was a kid Ian had always been kind to her, imprinting her on his appreciation and love. But as she got to be a little older, he changed completely. He started to beat her senseless, but she still saw that loving man, even with his dirty ways. Jaclyn just couldn’t bring herself to say the truth.

He was brainwashing his own daughter. Don’t get Ian wrong though, he was a smart man. And when he saw something coming his way, he would always diverge a plan to avoid it. Or at least warn everyone, and so he did. But, Ian was no messenger up above. In fact, he got so scared he wanted to make implants on his daughter so that she could survive the so-called coming virus.

  Jaclyn stares at her thin, but strong nails. They would cut about anything, and the thought sent chills down Jaclyn’s spine. The world bathes in a red glow from her eyesight as Jaclyn lets tears flow down her. She didn’t know what she was anymore. But she knew what she was, ignoring her denial. Fear was what she was.

   She feared she would end up like this when her dad warned her about the virus that would end the world. He said she needed to survive this plague and needed her to get implants to help her live, but when she refused, he smacked her and insisted she succumbs. She refused, to Ian’s dismay. And the next time Jaclyn awoke, she found herself strapped to a surgery table in her dad’s darkening basement.

 

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The light dimmed low, Jaclyn tries to sit up but finds she can’t even do that. Strapped at her wrists, ankles, and neck, were leather straps that looked like they could hold down a bear. Thoughts and emotions surge through her mind as she tries to find a reasonable explanation about why she was there. Jaclyn tries once more to sit up, but the leather strap at her neck digs into her skin, burning it raw. She could feel warm blood trickle down her neck but is immobilized to only see the dimmed light swaying gently above her. She uses every ounce of her strength to break the restraints, thrashing her neck from side to side, causing her blood to trickle down her neck furiously. She screams in frustration, balling her fists in tiny balls but all of her emotions are lost in a heartbeat when she yelps in pain. She couldn’t look at her hands but knew they were spewing blood onto the surgery table. When she balled her fists, something sharp tore through her palms causing a searing pain that brought tears to her eyes. Jaclyn curses and lets tears flow onto her unusually cold cheeks. Then through the layer of foggy pain, it dawns on her. Her nails were no longer nails, but sharp objects, like daggers. She could feel the extra weight on her nails like they were really big acrylic nails. She rubs her fingers over one another and finds that her nails never end to her reach. Clanking them together, her long dagger-like nails feeling thicker than normal.

Jaclyn still lets tears flow down her cold cheeks as she moans in pain at her hands. Blood still spraying out of her hands, Jaclyn feels her teeth broaden in her mouth. Running her tongue over her teeth, each tooth has been turned into a monster version of a K-9 tooth. Each point as sharp as her nails. Then she feels something switch in her eyes, like a dirty shift mixed with a blink. Jaclyn watches in awe as her vision slowly turns to a reddish glow. Bathing everything in its wake. She looks around in her new vision, her mind racing and recollecting its thoughts. Then it hits her like a blow to her gut, knocking the imaginary wind out of her. Her father, Ian. Ian did this to her when they were eating dinner. He made a light dinner, no figure, and he gave her sparkling water for a drink. He must have put it in the drink, and suddenly Jaclyn was filled with terror. Coursing through every vein in her body, she cries out loud in spiteful revenge. Every muscle in her body tenses and she uses new fueled strength to try to break free. It was her left ankle that broke first. Then everything tore away like cotton candy and she was free of her dad’s grip. She sits up as a triumphal spirit comes across her soul like a spreading wildfire, but is quickly extinguished by her next thoughts. She hadn’t won, Ian already did the damage. And suddenly it was like Jaclyn was on a mood swing roller coaster. Riding along with sadness, fear, and revenge was the only things that participated in her mind. Everything she knew and loved would be destroyed by her. Her. What her father said was true. She was a monster even before she literally became one. And still, she thought she was the bad guy. But Jaclyn didn’t want to deal with her emotional state right now. All she wanted was to see her dad and let him pay for his felonies. She looks around in her new vision. Everything was bathed in an orangey-glow, and from what she could tell, she had night vision. The whole basement was lit by her new light, and the only light coming from the ceiling was the one that was hanging in her face. Jaclyn looks at the surgery table and the blood. It sends shivers down her spine as she looks at her hands. Her full hands.

Everything comes crashing down at that moment. Her long daggers that exist where her normal nails should be are thin, clean (Except for her own blood), and long, almost 8 centimeters. She couldn’t help but gasp at what her father had in mind as a daughter after he had done the damage. Her mouth, now that she takes notice, is pushed out in a weird way, which only makes her more frustrated. Blood still runs down her hands and drips onto the cemented bare floor. Jaclyn inspects the wound like it would suddenly speak. The wound was a deep gash in the center of her palm. Blood was still streaming out, but much less. She flexed her palms straight, hoping the pain would subside a little, but it didn’t. She sucks in air through gritted canine teeth. They were clean as well, neatly straight and lined up with the top row. Jaclyn hated every bone in her body for secretly having admiration for her father about his work. But it scared the hell out of her, and she wasn’t one person to be messed with when she was in a bad mood.

When Jaclyn had mood swings, they often led to outcomes like these, where she argued to herself and legitimately got nowhere in progress. Jaclyn couldn’t argue with herself now, let alone piss herself off even more. So she ripped her shirt into strips with her newly daggers and tied her hands, the blood already seeping through. She looks around once more when she was done, her hands a blazing fire, but ignoring the pain. Jaclyn didn’t see a trace of her father, so she heads for the door. The basic wooden door almost tempts her, and Jaclyn didn’t like the vibe it was giving out. She looks at it intently, and her guts told her something was wrong. But everything else was wrong, why should this be too? You can’t find him, he’ll be hiding, drunk probably. Why can’t I just open the door? Is it that hard, is it something I can’t handle? Because I know Ian would get there first.

Jaclyn fumes but doesn’t say anything to herself, knowing everything was true. Every word. And if she was going to handle simple-minded tasks like how she just did, she might as well be retarded. It annoyed her. Her personality, her trash talking, her pain, her childhood, it annoyed her so much. But that was life, wasn’t it? Just got to cope with it, and only the strong survive. She knew something in her life would make the pain subside or even stop once she found something that made her feel worth something more. She knew the time would come, but it felt so long in the future. And with her mind playing tricks on her, she knew she couldn’t last long enough, even with her new abilities. Her father would also get in her mind, but she knew the consequences, she wasn’t that stupid. Jaclyn reaches for the door and finds it to be locked. Of course. But why would her father want to keep her locked in the basement like a lab rat? Didn’t he want these new enhancements anyway? Ian was a hard man to crack, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Was he testing her new abilities? If so, was he watching her, or waiting in the dark to find a reason to take her down? She didn’t know, but one thing she knew was that he would turn on his daughter so quickly it hurt. He had issues, sure, but to turn away his own flesh and blood? It was soul crushing for Jaclyn. She never knew it could get so bad until the wave came crashing down. Jaclyn turns her back to the door and sits down slowly. Her hands throbbed with a fiery burn, but it didn’t match her pain from thinking about her father like that. She was weak. She was stupid. Summed it up pretty good. Jaclyn knew she shouldn’t be giving up so easily, so she fights the layer of pain and weakness and rises to her feet, careful for her daggers not to touch her palms. The basement door was a thick, heavy door. She didn’t know how she could unlock it. She first tries to kick the lock, taking a sweeping stance. The lock nor the door doesn’t budge. She tries again with much more force, this time the handle falling off and hanging on a thread. She grabs it by the dangling handle and yanks it free. Then she kicks open the door, swinging wildly in its threshold. She enters the stairway and hears a yelp and footsteps up above. “What have you done Ian?” She yells up from the bottom of the stairs, looking at the closed door at the top. The thunderous footsteps stop, then she hears Ian breathe heavy breaths. He was scared. How can I hear this? Jaclyn asks, and blames it all on Ian, ignoring the fact she could hear Ian gathering papers from his office desk and dumping them somewhere. “Ian!” She strains to hear his next move. Something crashes to the floor, and he stops once again in his tracks. What was he doing? And at this moment, she knew she would never forgive him. But that was a lie she told herself.

Jaclyn clomps up the stairs exaggerating every move so that she could relish her father’s panicked footsteps. His office was just down the hall from this door, and she knew he was powerless. “Ian! Answer me or I swear I will rip you apart with my new gifts!” She practically hurls the word at him, mimicking his lunatic behavior. She stops clomping up the stairs like a child and waits for a reply. When she knows he won’t answer, she takes the stairs two at a time, reaching the door and flinging it open. The kitchen was empty. Blind fury boils her volcanic blood as she turns and walks to his office. When she sees it has no sign of him in there, she runs up the stairs to see him in his bedroom. They share stares for a moment before Jaclyn lashes out at him. She clocks him on the face open-palmed, as she feels her daggers tearing cheek. He cries out in pain at the unexpected attack, but what would he expect? A hug and a thank you? Jaclyn wasn’t sure. Blood seeps out of four shallow gashes as Ian stares at her dumbfounded. “I told you no, and you don’t take that for an answer. Instead, you, drug your own daughter and use her as a science experi-“

“You aren’t an experiment, you were being armed�"“ Jaclyn kicks him this time in the shin to shut him up. He stops talking but doesn’t react to the pain, given she kicked him only for him to shut up. “Don’t make me do this.” He growls at her, turning defensive. So, she was the bad guy now? It pissed her off even more, and that made her blood scream. “I was never the bad guy. You. Were. And will always. Will. Be.” She emphasis every word to let him have it. His eyes narrow as usual, but his mouth starts to foam as he yells back at her, losing his cool. “I am not the person you would want to blame. I am the one you would want to thank. Everything I gave you was a gift, but you rejected it like some piece. Why don’t you just see that for once?” Jaclyn lashes out again at him, but he dodges it with a parry. “Just tell me how to undo this,” Jaclyn says, her voice in a deep growl. Ian smiles for once, a sinister smile that should belong to a madhouse. “You can’t.” But Jaclyn doesn’t buy it, knowing that if she gave up so quickly. “Yes, you can. Now, I want you to undo this or so be it I will kill you myself.” No reaction, just Ian smiling a smile that made Jaclyn want to tear his face off. Then she screams and lashes out at him again, which he tries to dodge but she was too quick. Catching him at his side, he yelps in pain followed with a curse. Jaclyn turns tail, and runs into her bedroom and slams the door shut so hard it broke the lock.

 

Jaclyn still lets the salty tears run down her cheeks in the basement. After that argument, she never talked to Ian until two days ago. And when she had gotten enhanced, that was a week and a half ago. It was summer, and it was a good thing she didn’t have to worry about school. But Ian said the end was near, and, oh no, he stopped paying for her college funds. Like it didn’t matter. College wasn’t important to her anymore, but before when he stopped helping she was pissed. But he had a right, right? It was his money after all, but he had abused his daughter her whole life, so was it something she would get in return? Probably not. Ian wasn’t a man of promise, though he knew he reigned truth when he spoke it. But he only told lies, and that was something about his ego. You could never trust him, even if he were telling the truth, which was unlikely.

It was hell for Jaclyn this past month. After the first argument, she didn’t know how to reverse the effect. Ian said it can’t be undone permanently, but it could disappear from view. So she tried to make the effect disappear, but it didn’t work, no matter how hard she concentrated, nothing would change. And that prevented her from going out in public. From being cooped up in the house for a long time. And from not being able to see her mom. Ian had found a way to keep her occupied from not seeing her daughter, telling her friends to organize a party in California. They agreed, renting out an office block off of the cheapest neighborhood they could find. Ian also offered to buy their plane tickets, which came out to be what he wasn’t hoping for, but he was doing this for his wife to get away. Somehow. So she got the invite and decided to leave without another trace.

Jaclyn was glad her mother couldn’t see her as this disgusting monster, though she knew she wasn’t that disgusting. But as always she was self-conscience of herself, even though that her emotions didn’t matter with situations like this. Jaclyn barely came out of her room, and when she did it was to eat and to go to the bathroom. Eating was hard for her. Her daggers always cut open the cereal box or scratched the fridge door. It was also hard to eat like a human when her hunger got in the way. She was always hungry since the surgery. She guessed it was a side effect of the enhancement, even though she tried not to think about it much. And when on trips out of her room, she sometimes saw Ian. He would be in the office, or in the kitchen, maybe sometimes occupying the bathroom when she needed it. And when they made eye contact, she would just stare intently into his eyes, trying to intimidate him with her new eyes. He was always the first one to break eye contact, and each stare down didn’t last long. One time she even snarled at him when he broke away, saying ‘Fight me!’ without words. He looked at her like he was a naughty child and simply strode out of the room, his eyes not making contact like they were bouncing off of her gaze before they could interlock. Jaclyn hated him, all that fury and rage took over her other emotions for him. Each day before they had exchanged sentences to each other, she could tell Ian wanted to say something to her. When they interlocked sometimes, he would open up his mouth, but nothing came out. She walked away before he had the chance when that happened. Three days before the argument, Jaclyn cried herself to sleep. Only to wake up to see her dad looming over her. His arms were crossed, and he stared into her eyes for once. She sits up in her bed, rubbing her eyes open-palmed. When she was finished, Ian was looking away. Has he been here for a long time? She didn’t think so, but why would he have a choice? There was nothing else to do here, but she realized that only applied to her. Jaclyn looks up at Ian and stares daggers into him, wanting to know what he wanted of her again. “Look, Jacl�" “

“Don’t start with that, you know as well as I do that I don’t buy that stuff. Get to the point, Ian” Ian’s jaw clamps shut and tightens. Then he opens his mouth once more. “Do you know how to retract them?” He gestures to the daggers and teeth. “Hmmm, I’m not sure.” She says sarcastically. Ian doesn’t react and simply moves on. “Concentrate.”

“Not like I haven’t tried that yet.” Jaclyn manages to roll her eyes. Ian starts to breathe heavily. “Just, try to like, try to… how do I put it?” Ian seems to lose his train of thought as he tries to put it in words. Jaclyn waits patiently, fumes still rising out of her head.

After what seems like minutes of silence as Ian tries to put the solution in words, Jaclyn gets up and picks up the clock that was buzzing on her bedroom wall. Ian stops from his train of thought and stares at her intently, waiting to know what her next move is. With a quick jerk she yanks it from the wall and hurls it at Ian, just missing his head narrowly as the clock smashes into the wall shattering into pieces. Glass glittering down in a million pieces.

“What the hell Jaclyn!?” Ian shouts. “That nearly took my head off!”

“Dad, you’re running on borrowed time! Hurry up or the next time I’m not missing.” She snaps. Ian avoids her gaze. “By the way, don’t watch me sleep like a creep, ok? Because next time, or any time you watch a girl sleep like how you just were, you’re not going to live any longer than you are with me.” Ian still avoids her gaze, finding something to toy with on her bed stand. “Look, how you do this is going to be hard, so please don’t just in cause’ it’s not going to get you anywhere.” Jaclyn looks at her nails, wanting to annoy him more. She still didn’t think she deserved this, after he abused her, and brainwashed her. Her love for him was chased away in a heartbeat. “Why don’t you just die somewhere else?” Jaclyn says, still looking at her nails as if they were a fresh pedicure.

“That’s it!” Ian grabs Jaclyn by her wrist and rips her out of bed. Her daggers claw at his forearms, digging into muscle and tendons, blood already flowing out. Jaclyn’s eyes widen as she hits the floor with a thud. She lays there in disbelief that her father would dare lay another hand on her, after all knowing what she was capable of. Was her father really that ignorant? Her mind was spinning with thoughts. Taking her back to when she was locked in the basement, radio blaring and Ian standing in the middle of the room taking off his belt and snapping it with both hands, whistling in a soft tune that would despise the actions he was doing to her. Her screams were desperate, hoping someone would hear her screams 6 feet below.

Jaclyn sweeps her leg over Ian’s ankle, knocking him to his knees. With cat-like agility, Jaclyn jumps up and spins onto his back, locking her arm around his neck. Now it was Ian’s eye’s that widen. The rage he had inside him instantly turns into a gut-wrenching fear. “Now what have I done here?” Jaclyn teases as her arm tightens around his neck. Ian coughs and struggles to say something, but all he manages was a grunt of pain for his forearms that were still pumping life out of him. He claws and slaps at Jaclyn’s arm, but he was too weak at that point. He starts to inhale, but he comes up empty-handed.“Jac...lyn. Ssstopp.” He hisses, using precious air. Jaclyn loosens her grip a little, enough for him to get a few gulps of air.

Jaclyn, now with the upper hand, pushes off Ian. Ian falls to his hands and knees while Jaclyn springs to her feet. Satisfied of her control, she walks to her nightstand and straps on her iWatch to press the timer. “You have 20 seconds to get up and vacate my room,” Jaclyn whispers in Ian’s ear as she bends down to meet his gaze. “I will be going back to school soon, which you will fund as promised. You will also help me get rid of the enhancements. Now get out!” Pointing to her bedroom door, Ian scrambles to his feet. Taking one glance at his forearm, then at her, he gets out of her room, clutching his forearm as he slams the door shut. That’ll teach him, she thinks to herself. And with a satisfied nod to herself, she plops down on her bed, straining to hear what Ian was doing. Silence. Jaclyn looks down at her bloody daggers. She would have to go clean them, not because of the blood, but because it was Ian’s blood. Feeling it was a burden to her.

 

Ian quickly moves down the hall to his study and picks up a black cell phone. He scrolls to Drake Freeman and pushes the name to dial. Two rings late, a low, deep voice says: “Doctor.” Ian stares out the study window, watching the heavy rainfall, his arm bandaged up, and blood already seeping through the bandage. Ian speaks in a straight, low tone, almost like a growl. “She’s ready.”

The line goes dead.

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Author's Note

Ignore typos, grammar, etc... Just want to inform you about the beginning chapter. Give me feedback, please. This is totally different from my main problem (Writer's block) but I figured if I lay this whole story down then you ought to at least know the beginning. If you have anything to ask or say, fire away!

Reviews

[MAJulian]

Pretty snazzy, but I do think that it should start with more of a bang, maybe something that sets the mood better.