Chapter 1: The Accident
From the Journal of Mr. S.K: ZERO FILES
DATE STARTED: June 1st, 2032
To: whomever it concerns.
Who am I?
Are you sure you really want to know?
Are you sure that your heart can take all that I have to tell you, all that must be told to tell how I came to be?
Why I do what I must every day?
If you think this is a journal from someone unimportant, someone who never did anything worth writing about in his life… well, YOURE WRONG.
I have done something that affected an entire city, a city that is my home… a city that evolved from a crime corrupted town revelling in its own slime and parasites, to a town half cured of crime and corruption.
All because of two special girls, their names… are Rachel and Mariko Kishi.
That's right, first mask removed, Kishi as in the billionaire industrialist/philanthropist Martin Kishi of Lunar city.
Lunar city, it's a city by the bay bordering the border between two countries (U.S/Canada), a beautiful city at both day and night.
Or at least it is to those who shy away from the truth of what lurks around them in the shadows.
Predators of crime waiting to strike at the blind and unsuspecting sheep minded citizens of humanity…and punish those who take a stand against their rule.
They worked their crimes without fear, without persecution, without total justice for what they did to various innocent people.
I could make an endless list on all the abominations the criminal element of the city did, but I will say this…one night they went too far, one night they punished their last out speaker, one night…they created a monster.
A monster that's only purpose was that he would stop at nothing to eliminate all evil…and protect the innocent, even from themselves if he had to by operating outside the law as a vigilante.
I know, because that monster is me.
This is my story, but first let me shed another mask: My name is Kagae Kishi, Youngest son and only son of Martin and Eleanor Kishi.
I was only twelve years old when the first event that changed my life forever happened.
I was young, not a real worry in the world.
My world was my family, my big sister Rachel, and my older sister Mariko.
My best friend was a boy named Marty Osmond.
He was the athletic one, and full of energy and kindness. One of the best people I ever knew before I got my abilities.
We may have been best friends but we had our differences…he was a jock; I was a book nerd if you will.
Yes that's right, a child of a wealthy family…nerdy.
We were different, but we didn't let our social interests get in the way of our brotherly friendship.
But he sure had it easy!
I wasn't one of the toughest people back then, and I being so devoted to getting good grades would sometimes earn the spur of jealous kids who thought that I thought I was better than them.
But I didn't think I was better than anyone.
So when I reached high school, I don't feel like telling where because of my memories of that place, when I reached high school I was always on the bullies list to be beat up on. Most of it wasn't because of my brain but by money currency.
Some of the bullies bullied me because their rich fathers were supposedly richer than my father and ridiculed his humanitarian approach… said that the poor and destitute had their "place" in the world and it was in places like "The Far Side"… a demeaning name given to the poor slums of the city.
Said that's where they belonged and that's where the destitute that refuse to get a job because it's "hard" should go, stay and die in.
It was an opinion created by the city council and their opinions on the cities "riff raff".
I didn't agree with them, and that lead to more beating and bullying.
I normally tolerated it due to my belief in my fathers "turn the other cheek" philosophy.
Marty Osmond was the opposite; great in sports he became popular in the school when he joined the high school's football team and won two trophies for the school. He even got himself a girlfriend, me not so lucky…no one goes for glasses and brown spikey hair.
Despite his friend's opinions of me, Marty never deserted me. He would try his best to help me when he could…but when the two biggest bullies of the school, Brawn and Barker (I didn't know their real names at the time) two rich brothers, big for their age, and mean…like bulldogs, took interest in me as their new punching bag, my life in school became hell.
I tried to talk to the principle but since those two's father was the one on the school board he did nothing and told me to "stop bothering the Deering boys".
I tried father on father, but their father was my own father's most belligerent enemy Mr. Deering the bill collector and big businessman tycoon, a rich mean one at that! Who while being a manufacturer of goods also handled rentals in low class homes, didn't believe me, or my father saying that it was "an attempt to sully the Good Deering name"…called me a Kishi conspirator.
And when his boys said I was a smart boy, he called me a "know it all middle class rich boy, who thought he was better than everyone…like his father".
Back then I didn't understand why Mr. Deering thought that of me, today I do.
He hatted my father's humanitarianism saying it's what makes this country soft and weak, saying that in a time of war in 2006 we had no need for humanitarianism, what we needed was more weapons for our troops and our nations protection, weapons provided by my father's rival Dorian finch, the second most wealthiest arms manufacturer in the world.
In his mind my father was using me to attack his family with slander and he encouraged his boys to do anything they had to do to make the Kishi boy to shut up.
So afterwards the bullying got worse.
So with Marty's help, I had to fend for myself against the bullies.
My bishop in my church, (yes I'm a Christian, you got a problem with that…TOUGH!) he suggested I try and pray for guidance for my problem when he saw that he couldn't give me answers to my bullying problem, because all of his suggestions I had already tried.
I found it, in the form of the library.
A place where I loved to go and one where I could hide because that's where one of my friends was every day doing his job.
Mr. Maypole the librarian was one of the two adults in the school I could truly call one of my "allies" in my then secret war on bullying….by trying to outsmart it by hiding in the back end of the library. And being so devoted to keeping the library as efficient as his old self could, Mr. Maypole would keep an eye on the activities in the aisles and if he saw any of the bully's he would give the signal he taught me. It became almost a game.
I think what made me hit the ball with him was that I loved to read "print", you see in the year 2006 novels, newspapers, and comic books began to be replaced with data disks.
The future was coming in, but for some like Mr. Maypole…it was coming in wrong.
He believed that when data discs were installed into the school and schools across the country he would lose his job because there would be no need for an old librarian like him.
One thing he also noticed about me was my love of old comic books, some of the new ones were okay but it seemed in some of them the villains were being seen as more heroic with the heroes losing their way and becoming what they stood against…and people liked the darker hopelessness than the light of heroism, showing that evil reigned supreme in all problem solving… even over the good…at least that's how it seemed to me with some. In most of the ones I read the heroes overcame this darkness and repelled it back…while some people in the world would call this "unrealistic", as no one that far can be truly good. Or goodness is overrated; I would blow them all up."
Because they'd rather see the "truth of humanity", that a "hero" in todays world would be self-serving and would shoot people and administer "justice" for the sake of his or her own fun.
But I don't call "good triumphing over evil" unrealistic.
I call it the triumph of the human soul when one conquers their demons, within and without.
I also liked when the reverse happened, when villains were taken down by a heroes who used villain type tactics to fight crime.
Not like the punisher, my style was more in favor of my favorite characters the mysterious dark avenger of the 1930s the shadow and the Dark knight detective batman. Both were characters of darkness but instead of being villains, used the darkness against itself and fought crime that way to uphold justice.
Although the shadow mostly killed his enemies, mostly in self-defence, I couldn't help but like his style… he brought justice during a time when criminals ruled with no remorse, and killed for the fun of it on people and the dark knight well you all probably know of DC comics character but what intrigued me about him was like me he wealthy man who was from a rich family… kind of like me.
Besides me, Marty and Mr. Maypole liked the old comics.
When he found my interest in them Mr. Maypole, trusting me began loaning me copies from his collection that he had been creating ever since he was a kid.
I would read what he loaned and I would return what I had borrowed to him.
He had a lot of old comics, some not to old but old compared to today.
Comics like Doc savage, Green Hornet, The Sandman, and Old Marvel Comics…a huge collection.
He planned on selling some of them someday, hopefully the day he did would be the day before Data disks assimilated libraries.
It didn't happen.
The last day I saw Mr. Maypole was one of the many sad days of my life.
He had been retired, replaced by the fast approaching future… rendered obsolete in the School boards eyes… who didn't believe an old man could learn how to handle watching and keeping data discs instead of books.
He left sadly, but before he left for good, he gave me a box.
Inside the box was well, it was filled with old comics from his collection, I began to ask why but he assured me it was "just a reminder, the last one who I ever loaned a book too…and one of my good friends, if one of my many few. These comics, call me silly, they inspired me to become the man I am today, and I think it would be worthwhile to give them to someone who reminds me of me when I was that age…maybe they will help your life journey too"
That was the last I ever saw of him.
Without my friend the librarian, I had to keep on my toes for if Brawn and Barker came in, I would be fair game.
Luckily for me, they hardly ever got into the library...I didn't know why at the time, and even now that I know… they couldn't read, it doesn't quell the anger at what they did to me in that first year of school.
They bullied to get by in school by forcing people to do their homework, not letting their dad know about their shared disability.
But with me, it was the family feud fuelled hatred of me…nothing else.
Their father hated my father and taught his boys to hate me, and they took great pleasure in it all
Like when they stuffed me in my own locker.
So no…I don't feel sorry for them.
My only solace was my reading and my friend Marty.
But Mr. Maypole wasn't my only adult friend.
My teacher Mrs. Darby, one of the old ones, but she had taught my sister and now taught me. I thought she was scary at first but she soon proved me wrong.
She was stern when she had to be, but she was really kind and caring.
In me she saw a model student, and when she got wind of my bully troubles… she did what she could to deal with it.
It had only been two weeks since my last bully attack, thanks to her.
It was not too soon after that, that the first day I was changed forever occurred.
It was nearly the end of summer when it happened.
I was in my sister Rachel's car, with Mariko, being driven home. It had been another typical day. I looked over at Mariko who was muttering about someone called Derek.
She saw me and asked me how my day was.
I told her "the same, it's a nerd's life for me" sarcastically.
"Brawn and barker again huh?" asked Rachel, "figures… the deerings don't like anyone in the city who happens to be called Kishi"
"Unfortunate…but with how their behaving as of late someday they'll wish they weren't so cruel to people" Mariko sighed in disgust.
Mariko had only a couple of months left before she graduated.
She was the drama queen of the school, and a play-writer in her own right.
She had been secretly working on a play of her own; it was her yearly project for her drama teacher. She wouldn't even let me see it in its prototyped form; I would sometimes tease her about it like any little brother would have.
Mariko's dream was to go to Oxford University in Britain where the works of Shakespeare began, her idol, and hopefully one day she would become a well-known writer of great plays and operas.
Rachel, the second eldest was stern, but fair. She had black hair and brown eyes. She was known as the most athletic of the family, she was always enrolling herself in sports, even sports where no girls ever dared like football…continuing forward the Kishi trait of eccentricity as some put it.
She had a dream as well, have a little girl, or a boy and marry a handsome man with a heart with no strings attached like some of the boys she dated… and who didn't mind her ideals on equal rights for women in many things like the presidency.
I was going to talk to Mariko about her play when Rachel said "hey, quiet for a moment" she turned the dials on the radio.
I listened to the radio to find out about what Rachel had been talking about, what is it she had heard that made her so concerned?
"Car accident on Highway 24, all units required to divert down Parker Street to go around disaster zone" the News traffic report read.
"Parker Street?" Mariko asked concerned, "the far side?"
"don't worry little sis, well just get through that place quickly…" she flipped a switch on her dodge convertible, flipping up the roof over us and locking the doors, "and well get through that place with the doors locked!"
I gulped as we headed down the off-ramp and into the tip infamous crime ridden slums of the city known as The Far side.
Four hours later…..
About two blocks away, a semi-truck with no license plates carrying a containment tank came to a stop at an intersection.
The truck had no company name, but it had an order to fill.
Inside its tank was a cargo of sinister potential.
A cargo of a mixture of chemicals that had a purpose for its creator, its creator who also owned the truck and the man who was driving it…one of his employees if you will.
This man was under the employment of the brain of crime, and during this eventful day…he was moving one of the boss's shipments in a ghost truck.
He refused to ask what he was hauling, because that's how he got this job…because someone asked the boss what the trucks were hauling… turned out to be an undercover cop, bang! Just like that….old Moe Irving got the job.
As he waited for the light to turn red, he looked out at the streets of the far side slums.
Moe Irving was once like those unfortunate Joes who thrived on the harsh environment which was the poverty streets of lunar city.
Sure in every other city you have your sick, you're destitute and welfare thrives…but in lunar, we had our sort of poor people ghetto….the far side.
The far side was the worst.
It was seventeen square blocks of abandoned buildings, slums, shanty towns…it was a place that no one wanted save two kinds of people, the poor and the criminals.
Moe knew that the source of some of the city's crime came from the far side…desperate people will do anything for money, food, and protection.
That's how he came looking for a job to the brain of crime, the cities criminal kingpin.
He had been fired from his job on Outer lunar's shipping docks due to industrial espionage, and when he couldn't make payment on his apartment he found himself on the streets…until now.
But deep down, he hated the job because he had a feeling that what he was shipping was just causing the city to die more…he could care less about the city, but there where good people…and he couldn't help but feel guilty for being part of the business of death.
Death was not uncommon to him, neither was urban decay or crime, he used to live in New York.
Had a family, a mother, father, sister…planned on settling down someday.
He left lunar to find greener pastures to get away from the big apple and its share of worms.
Then 9/11 came, and he lost everything, and everyone.
When the patriot act came into play, Moe escaped into poverty, hiding in the alleyways of lunar city…until it cooled down, but he could live of garbage forever.
He needed a job, but the city's new policy to help with that war in the east, or in Moe's opinion…weave out the destitute left him unable to get hired or put on welfare.
He could barely even find a soups kitchen in lunar, and it got worse when crime escalated in lunar soon after the 22nd city council was re-instated into office in Lunar's political system.
He found one, and here he was.
"His family would be so proud" he thought scornfully.
If he hadn't left for lunar and stayed with his family…then he might have been able to have prevented their deaths and he wouldn't be working this terrible job.
He'd leave if it wasn't that the brains service was lifelong, you never left unless he no longer needed you…and that usually meant a 45 to the head as a retirement gift.
All that Moe could hope is that the brain would bite his own dust one day and he could slip away before the long arm of the law caught him and start all over with a more decent job.
He watched as an old woman pushing a cart walked by, he wasn't sure but he could have sworn he saw scars on her neck.
Feeling obligated, Moe lowered his window and tossed fifty seven dollars out his window onto the street lady's shopping cart.
The lady looked up to see where this "money from heaven" had come from.
She looked up at Moe, smiling, mouthing "thank you"
Moe watched as the street lady walked away, glad that he had actually done some good.
He began to roll up his window when suddenly from the back of his sight; a shot gun was shoved through the open window from outside.
A shotgun followed by its owner, a street thug with his face painted with glow paint to look like a skull.
It was a member of one of the Night skull street gang, and one of lunar cities three major gangs.
And one of the gangs the brain hadn't owned yet.
"Is this truck is the brains property? Don't lie!" asked the shotgun holding night skull.
"Good…that's what our boss heir Totenkopf wanted us to hear from you" the shotgun night skull grinned, then with a fluid motion, he grabbed Moe from his lapels and threw him out of the truck onto the pavement bellow.
Shaken, Moe could hear the sound of both of his tanker trucks side doors opening and closing.
He realized that the night skulls were stealing the truck that had the boss's product, if he lost that he would be a dead man.
He got up protesting, only to find himself facing the barrel of the same shotgun.
There was a flash, and pain…and a sense of flying…he came to a stop on the sidewalk beside the tanker truck.
He heard the night skulls scream as they drove the tanker truck away at breakneck speed "didn't you know a good deed goes punished in lunar, particularly the far side you dumb old timer"
As Moe's world went black as the shot gun wound began to take his toll, his last sight was the sight of the old woman he had given the money too…the event that cost him his life, appear, looking at him…searching him…trying to save him from his death.
But the old woman was trying in vain, she couldn't save him and Moe knew it.
Because he soon after fell into the blackness of death.
He expected to go to the place where "scum" like him deserve to go, but instead he saw a bright light.
A bright light, a warm, welcoming light…from which emerged his parents and sister….whom had been killed during the attacks on New York in September 9th 2011
"Mom… dad… Lilly?" he asked askance.
"Time to come home Mozart" Lilly smiled calling her brother by the pet name she had given her older brother.
"How can I be going there? I've done bad…" Moe asked his father's spirit in disbelief.
"It doesn't work quite that way son, besides…you were desperate, trying to survive…forced to do things that you didn't want to do… an unfortunate fact of life. But now your suffering is over and it's time to go home" His father's spirit said putting a hand on Moe's shoulders brining him into the light.
"But those criminals, they will cause more death because of me…because of the shipment" Moe said hesitantly.
"no…no honey" his mother spirit assured him, " you've just helped save future lives…and that shipment may have been evil, but its purpose will create something good today" his mother assured, "there's an angel coming for lunar, an angel that won't rest until all evil faces retribution for their crimes….everything will be fine"
Moe trusting his mother, crying with tears of joy of seeing them alive again…faded with them into the light to paradise.
While there back on earth in the street where he had been shot, the elderly woman cried… cried at the death of the same man who had just given her enough money for a week's supper.
In lunar, acts of kindness were usually returned with violence, crime and death.
She had seen so much evil, so much pain, so much suffering in a city where men and women who treated life as cheap reigned free in their debauchery with no signs of penance for their toll on various lives.
As far as criminals were concerned in lunar, it was their town… and people, rich and poor were just living in it as collateral.
That's how she lost her husband in a drive by shooting, while he was getting the paper outside their low rise home.
The criminals were never caught...so her husband just became another meaningless technicality to the crime waves of the city and the corruption of the lawmakers of lunar… the ones who really put her out on the street…she didn't know how they did, but she knew they did it!
The whole city was getting worse, and it didn't seem humanly possible to stop it… not humanly.
She muttered in her head…"please dear god… please sends us some kind of hero, knight…ANYTHING to deliver us from this hell we live in!"
If only she knew, that her "Knight" would be born sooner than she thought, about four blocks down from where she was…but he would half to be half broken before he decided to become the cities knight against evil…. He would have to be shown evils true face so he could get his hatred of it that would make him what he is today… but be broken none the less, scarred…forever.
But if only she knew…maybe she would have prayed for him, for me…to be sparred of all the horrible events which followed soon after my accident.
I know I wish I could have been sparred of them!
They're burned everlastingly in my memories, and they may also be to you faithful reader whomever you are who reads this text.
If you wish to spare your heart the terrible events that caused my quest, then leave and forget about ever seeing this journal.
If you dare to read further then that proves one thing…. You are a reader who has been fascinated by the truth that you have read so far…because it is the truth… and you'll want to read more to see if I am really that man you all must think I'm referring myself to as.
Read on if you must…but don't say my text didn't warn you.
The two Night skulls raced the tanker truck like madmen down the deserted roads of the far side.
See in any other part of the city there's people on their porch stoops or on the street doing various activities, walking, street hockey, whatever their pleasure…but in the far side…no one goes out on the street at the beginning stages of night, and if they did they stuck to the shadows to avoid being seen by any of the gangs that operated there and owned territory.
The Conquisidors to the south, a bunch of vicious Spanish car thieves who if not hiding out in the far side from cops, stealing cars and car radios around the city instead spent much of their time running protection rackets on various homeless people who lived in the walled up homes and apartments there. Or for fun beat on them.
The Lynx's: female gun totters who were in charge of a major drug trade in the far side and the fashion district, heck even selling some brands of ecstasy to various customers in lunar's Sin avenue…big hit in the retched sin avenue.
I don't care if you the reader like Sin Avenue, it's retched in my opinion…and if you saw it from my eyes, which are not human eyes…you'd hate it too.
The thing about the Conquisidors and the lynx…they hated each other…so they'd been waging war with various places around lunar's back alleys, streets…but the major battles had been fought in the far side.
Police took weeks before they could cool down the last gang war between those two…but since most of the action occurred in lunar city's far side slum most people didn't care, and by most people I mean the idiotic sheep that took up half of lunar.
Now…because of these two rival gangs being at each other's throats no one dared to go out onto the far sides streets, at least not unarmed.
But today, there could be found at least twelve to thirteen people on the streets of lunar's far side.
The two night skulls knew why.
Because the two gangs were now under the thumb of the brain of crime, placed elsewhere…no one gang owned the place anymore…at least that's what they said on the news… the night skulls knew the place belonged to the brain of crime now…and he used the quiet place with its vast supply of vacancy and low population to his advantage.
But you see, this didn't really matter to the night skull members driving the truck because they didn't work for brain, and they knew their boss Heir Totenkopf wasn't going to join any two bit kingpin wan-a-bee who suckered the weakest gangs in the cities and the dumbest crime syndicates in lunar.
The boss was smarter than them in the beginning, and he was smarter now than anybody called the brain of crime.
The boss wanted the brains tanker shipment that one of his informants had revealed was being brought in through the far side to avoid city check cop patrols.
Since a good amount of the police was on the brains payroll, if they saw the night skulls driving the truck they would surely attack and peruse them…to get the brains shipment back for a big wad of cash!
Which is the reason why had hit the truck in the far side…less cop patrols to worry about, now they had the shipment and the boss was going to be happy to have whatever the brain was going to have had in is possession.
Nothing could go wrong.
Across the city… in an unknown location, a sinister mind looked out the window of an office building in the direction of the far side.
And scowling said these words, "I don't think so, it will be a shame to lose that product since it took me months to refine it to the potency it is now, but I'm not letting the police, the council or some idiot gang members cause its existence to be exposed…just yet!"
He waved his hand in a swift motion…and his eyes flashed red.
Back in the far side the tanker of the tanker truck suddenly swerved and lurched uncontrollably as the contents inside writhed around as if it had come alive.
The car was sent veering of the road, onto the street where it crashed through a warehouse building until it fell on its side and continued to slide until crashing outside onto an off ramp out of the far side…smashing and trapping seven cars, before coming to a complete stop.
The two night skulls were out cold, but that didn't mean they lived this event.
Because the contents of that tanker truck was pressurised, and a crack in the tubes of the tank behind the truck caused a purple fluid to flow in via a Jetstream from the fractured pipe, flooding the cab in torrents of purple liquid which severely ate at the two night skulls skin, killing them.
At the time I thought it was some kind of acid, I was soon in my own time going to find out it wasn't.
You the reader may ask why I know this happened, well…that's because one of the cars trapped by the crashing tanker truck coming out of the side of a warehouse, it was my sister Rachel's car with Rachel, myself and Mariko in it.
We had just begun getting onto the off-ramp out of the far side and up to the highroad leading to the bridge out of the island city, when suddenly the accident occurred and our car got pinned by another car being pushed beside ours.
And to make matters worse, relief valves were breaking on that truck spurting out some sort of burning acidic chemical that ate away at the parts of the cars they landed on.
People abandoned their cars and ran for cover from the possible explosion that would ensure from the tanker trucks condition.
Mariko barely avoided a spray by one of the writhing tanker hoses before she got out of the truck and headed to safety.
Rachel was next, she made it.
I was begging to get ready to jump out from the back out the car…I didn't make it.
It felt like being caught in the explosion that happens when a cannonball is fired. It was one big bang behind me, sending me flying, the concussion of the blast rattling my brain.
I flew a good few feet, but not to safety…no, I was instead free falling sideways landing hard beside the abandoned taxi cab and a sewer grate.
My ribs were cracked, and my arm was broken and I was so stunned by the blast I couldn't even barely move.
I had severe gash's and my nose was bleeding from my flight.
It was then I heard the loud rushing roaring sound and even though my ears where ringing I could hear that sound.
It was actually louder than the ringing, and then I realized why…because it was coming from something that was coming my way and fast.
I turned to see the torrent of purple liquid, the stuff that was inside the tanker truck pouring out of that truck from its ruptured back end. the liquid pressurised enough to shoot halfway up the off-ramp to where people where safe from it, but then gravity took control and the tidal wave of purple burning liquid began roaring down the ramp to where I was.
It made the sides of the cars sizzle as it swept over their sides rushing down the hill like water on a chute.
I could hear the faint screams of my sisters, telling me to run.
But it was too late; I couldn't move fast enough…and that strange liquid… it came more than fast enough at me to make sure!
It struck hard like a wave from the ocean.
The purple liquid… however I didn't know at the time but as it swept over me, it drained into the storm drainage system of the road…never to be seen again, ever.
The last thing I saw was the purple liquid wash over me.
Some of it got in my eyes, burning like acid.
But unknown to me at the time, some of the liquid also got into my bloodstream.
My time between being found by my sisters who screamed in horror at what had happened to me and my being wheeled quickly into emergency ward of lunar county general hospital by doctors and nurses on a gurney blurred.
What was twenty minutes to them was only a second to me.
Besides, how could anyone pay attention to anything outside of them when they were in deathly pain?
My mind was more concerned on the excruciating pain occurring in my whole body as the liquid coursed through my veins.
They had to strap me down to keep me from hurting myself I was convulsing so hard.
My sisters were behind my gurney, I knew because I could hear them screaming at the doctors to find out if I was going to be okay, receiving no answer.
The only thing that kept them from following me further was the door to the emergency room.
I could see them looking out from the wide window of the emergency room.
I can still hear the doctor's words, one asked, "what's wrong with him?!"
"Chemical exposure, he's reacting to it" the doctor in charge answered.
"Oh my… do you know who this kid is?" a nurse said in surprise recognizing my face.
"everyone knows that face that's why I'm hoping we don't end up losing this boy!" the doctor said to the nurse, placing needles in my arms, injecting me with sedatives to try and put me out to keep me from thrashing around.
It wasn't working.
"What's gotten into his system?" asked a nearby doctor.
"I don't know, I've never seen this before. Whatever he was exposed to is in his blood and its killing him…but I've never seen the stuff that's in his blood before in medical school in biohazard studies!" another said.
"His heart rate is accelerating dangerously!" one doctor screamed over my screams of pain.
"Inject the strongest sedatives we have into him, if we don't get his heart rate down he's going to die!" the lead doctor ordered, "NOW!"