Creation
I don't know how it happened. My sanity... it was long gone by then. I was experimenting with stem cells, yes, avian DNA, too, and also an odd radioactive growth hormone. I accidentally dropped them all into a test tube and created life. Knowing what would happen, I injected myself with what remaining DNA I owned.
The cops would be onto me, I knew, so I discarded my creation like an old paper towel, if you were the kind to litter. I then took up conspiracy theories as a hobby, along with technology, so my brain would have some sort of contender to prevent me from getting bored.
That night, I felt a dull, throbbing pain in my shoulder blades. I stumbled into the bathroom and took two Aspirin, but the pain got worse, and almost began to feel like growing pains. God help me, I thought, for I'm likely to burst and die! The agony began to get worse, and I convulsed. My back felt a warm liquid, probably blood, dripping down and pooling beneath me in a dark puddle in the dark bathroom. How ironic.
I felt my skin begin to tear and rend. Something extended through where my shoulder blades once were. I didn't know what it was, so I fumbled for the light switch in the darkness. After adjusting to the brilliant light, I finally got a good look at what had caused me such brilliant, exquisite agony.
It was a pair of inky black, blood-soaked wings.
There’s something profoundly human in your writing. You don’t just build characters, you unfold them. Their emotions, flaws, and little sparks of hope make the story feel heartbreakingly alive. It’s rare to see writing that captures both pain and beauty so effortlessly. This chapter in particular carried a quiet strength; it hit harder than I expected, and it stayed. You’ve created something that resonates on a soul level.