《Patient Genesis》 First Contact I slumped into bed, my mind racing as thoughts chorused into a bellowing chant. Incomprehensible speech relayed with raw repetition, pounding my every idea, choking them as they formed, enveloping my world before me in a blanket of darkness, left indistinguishable from right. How could I live like this? When such a monotonous and simple task as sleep would send me spiralling into a feverish episode. Time had slipped through my hands, like fine grains of sand, before I had regained full control of my senses. Cold sweat layered my forehead and uncontrollable shivers permeated my pale skin - I was a mess. Tears flowed and a gentle stream had formed across my bed sheets by the time I brought myself to look up and prepare for another daunting sleep. All nights before the beginning of this week had been conquered with restful slumber, it was but a few days ago when things had begun to take a turn for the worst. As sleep had taken me that first night, visions of ecstasy had played, a seemingly typical dream of fantasy - transforming into a heroic prince to save a damsel in distress, fighting the draconic overlord. Then the real visions began to play, flashing images that imprinted themselves onto my eyelids of clutching hands and mutilated corpses reaching out to me, in some fleeting attempt for salvation. Sickening displays of wars and massacres were carved deep into my memory, a thought that some entity, monster, or God did not want me to forget so easily - worse than any human nation could conjure. Screams of the masses would pierce my ears with such fierce torment that for the following days their songs of agony would play in my head on an endless loop. To show for the endless torture, my appearance had begun to show severe signs of wear: eyebags sat heavy under my lifeless pupils; my hair an unkempt birdsnest; clothes unwashed to the point with every movement came an echoing crunch as crusted garments folded over each other. Curled into a foetal position, it had begun to dawn on me in a brief moment of salvation from the onslaught of hellish images, that the runes carved in schizophrenic fashion across my room came about from a person of no sane mind. I laughed. A dry scream of a laugh. And I clutched at my hair, rocking back and forth, back and forth, my vision spinning. The walls closed in, splatters of crimson that formed lurid symbols began to swirl, amalgamating into bloodied vision. Senses that I once thought my own were now being puppeteered, I was about to become victim to whatever horrific scenes were about to play and my body was too rigid and frozen to react in any fight or flight manner. Insomnia that had once pervaded my system had lost, the bloody cloud fading as nothingness became all that was. I felt my body give way, crashing into the bed frame and sliding down onto the cushioning pillows. --- A gentle hum permeated the otherwise noiseless room, the droning monotonous, like the air conditioner you¡¯d find in a damp basement. Except this room wasn¡¯t damp, a harsh chill pierced my clothless body, sending sharp shivers down my spine - it arched in response thrusting me forward where my wrists met cold shackles. A dull clang of metal rang out, reverberating against the walls in an almost antagonistic response. Turning to see my restraints, I soon learned - I had no eyes. Not that I couldn¡¯t open them, or they were sewn shut, but where my eyes were supposed to be sat soft flesh - a continuation of my cheeks that ran across the entirety of my face. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I screamed. Shrieking, I hugged my frigid body, curling into a depressive mass. Clutching either forearm, it soon came to me they were broad and toned, far from what they should¡¯ve been. Stark naked I traced my figure - estranged from my own body and unfamiliar to the shapes that now rested in my palm. Deep grooves were etched, from head to toe, not dissimilar from those that were painted in my room - like scars I wore them with hate. I slumped against the wall, my mind racing with those very same thoughts, yet this time they formed a cohesive cacophony, forming a discordant array of the same sentence. This is all too real. That buzz of the room invaded my thoughts before the impending sense of doom could grip me and it occurred to me - it was almost static - the room felt alive. Dropping to my knees, I traced the floor in darkness, a smooth, numbing surface met my fingers - similar to the feeling of sliding your hand across an iron plate. Yet, electricity or something synonymous, danced between my digits, forming concentric circles as I laid my palm flat against the floor. Sweeping from left to right it followed, that feeling tingling the edge of my palm to the centre. I widened my arcing and it followed still, bigger and bigger I went. This unnatural sensation had consumed me, it was as if I was a child again, playing with a toy car or some hexbug that would vibrate when you held it - something so familiar yet wildly inhuman. Otherworldly. Sudden disgust crept over me when my hand met a bulbous vein that was fixed into the floor, pulsating like a beating heart, just narrower than my hand so I could grip it as it throbbed - palpitated. Fleshy contents squirmed beneath my fingers, the contents of the vein travelling towards me and into the wall that my back now rested against. Panic set in as tunnel vision left me and all my senses returned, including the feeling of a heavy object that protruded from the base of my neck. A protective sheath rested firmly with its teeth set deep into my muscle tissue and that same pulsating vein connected to it like a pipe fitting. I was connected to this living, breathing room. Was I some part of an organic computer? Where my mind was to be hijacked and repurposed, exploited by some alien for some meagre computations. Or was I being plumped up and fattened to be fed on? A thousand possibilities consumed me, each one objecting the last in a frenzy of reason. If I were to have eyes, they would be wide set and bulging with my hands clasped over them in manic fashion, with nails biting at the tender skin of my forehead and cheeks. ¡°Initial note: Patient Genesis appears distressed due to lack of eyes. Changes will need to be amended to ensure a stable environment whilst maintaining limited knowledge and understanding¡­¡± crackled from what seemed to be loud speakers around the room. ¡°Preparing to return Patient Genesis to its place of origin. Begin the return transfer sequence.¡± Without warning the runes carved deep into my flesh sizzled as if I had just been branded by a hot iron, I clenched my teeth as the sensation travelled around my torso and down my limbs. Flailing in desperation, I could do nothing to stop my skin being torn from my skeleton or my soul being torn from the lifeless vessel that now lay in that room. A strange feeling overcame me, what I could only describe as drowning in a sea of treacle, my movements sluggish and without purpose. Before my senses left me, a single sentence rang out - ¡°Successful transference of Patient Genesis, prepare for disposal of test vessel four.¡± It all began to make sense, the visions leading up to now, the alien cyphers I had painted in my room - I was being¡­ Dawn of a desperate age 2 days prior Caladaean Time ¡°Sire, I have word that the enemy has advanced past the Wall of Faelspar, it won¡¯t be long until they reach the capital,¡± uttered a broad General, an undertone of fear hanging in his words as he addressed the 203rd High Emperor, kneeling before him and bowing down. ¡°I understand, it seems the impasse within our ethics council has only brought about more strife and suffering, we are at a crossroads gentlemen. We find ourselves losing continents of land by the day to the enemy, cornered at every turn and yet¡­yet without approval for the experimental runic conscience transference we are at a standstill,¡± replied the High Emperor, concern written upon his weathered face. With heavy eye bags and wrinkles that blended them into his face, he made his opinion clear with a soured expression. The High Emperor was a stout yet menacing figure - a tuft of grey hair rested on his hair displaying clearly his age, accompanied by a neat claw mark that ran across his face like a trench that had engraved itself into his right eye socket and settled below his ear. ¡°If I may interject your majesty,¡± snivelled a scrawny figure from the back of the war room, his stature seemingly frail and minute compared to the towering generals and other genetically superior individuals that were scattered throughout the room, ¡°I do believe under section 38b of the constitution you have the power to overturn any judgement that is deemed not in the best interest of our planet as long as we are under threat of an enemy greater than ourselves.¡± A wave of hope passed over the room, the hunching 7ft figures all stood tall, a spark lighting a deep fire in their hearts as they realised their nation may not be doomed after all. Silence cut across the room as they all turned to the man in the high chair. ¡°If that is so, know that I do this with great displeasure having to disregard the concerns of our comrades and rely on the workings of the devil.¡± As those words escaped his lips, many of the men standing in the room shied away, covering the runes that were carved into their forearms and wrists, ashamed that they had strayed so far from the Caladaean way in search of greater might and strength to aid them in the coming years. ¡°Begin phase one of the conscience transference, and keep me updated. If we are to do this, we must do this with the greatest care. Please, leave me gentlemen.¡± With that, more than 20 giants and a few smaller men scuttled out of the room with haste leaving the High Emperor alone to his brooding thoughts. From the darkness behind the throne emerged a soldier, clad in obsidian armour, bearing the finest damascus dagger in an open sheath that hung from his thigh. He shadowed the emperor, casting a dark sheet over him where he sat with head in hands, elbows resting on a clean cut, black onyx armrest. ¡°If I may provide any consolation sir, if anything sinister were to be born in the labs below, I myself would personally slay it without remorse, there is nothing you should fear.¡± A fierce aura exploded from within the emperor¡¯s cupped hands around his eyes, radiating outwards as he bellowed,¡±FEAR! There is but everything to fear my loyal Theron, don¡¯t you see my kingdom is crumbling before me from all directions and all I can do is reach out in desperation to the one thing we as a society condemn. I have betrayed all that I hold dear to me, I am but a shell of my former self, this war a malignant tumour to development and prosperity to the nation I was once proud to call my own.¡± Stolen novel; please report. He wept. Tears falling to the floor and being absorbed, the veins in the floor glowing with a gentle emerald green, pulsating with a tender rhythm, a comforting heartbeat enveloping the room. Theron hung his head in respect, retreating into the darkness to allow his master a moment of brief respite. The High Emperor¡¯s fist clubbed down on the manchette, sending a vicious shockwave reverberating around the room, his onyx arm chair cracking under the sheer force. Disgruntled sighs escaped the emperor¡¯s mouth as he gripped the arm of the chair - ¡°I will retire to my chambers now, ensure the scientists do not stray from the path.¡± Theron returned from the shadows as his master stood with grace, an imposing character, 8ft in height, dwarfing the otherwise large soldier. Before he could register the footsteps, the High Emperor was by the door turning to enter the corridor - looking back he gave Theron a solemn nod and exited. Alone, Theron absorbed the emptiness of the war room, a dimly lit space with wide floors and short ceilings, tables cluttered with maps outstretched, figurines placed in tactical positions. Behind his helmet, Theron stared with distant eyes, standing ready like a mannequin, his person in the room, his soul elsewhere. Around him, time sat suspended in a purgatory, the air still, the only noise the faint hum of the floor, breaking a deafening silence. Foliage danced from the ceiling line, swaying with the rhythmic pulse of the veins sending Theron into a deeper trance-like state, his figure melting into the background of the room, another wall-piece between the mounted screens and diagrams. War was his everything, and in this state of tranquility he found himself drifting off, dreaming of butchering countless enemies, crushing their windpipes between his armoured fingertips, slicing their shelled skeletons clean in half and stomping on their scaled limbs underfoot. In times like these, Theron seethed, itching to return to the battlefield, to where he was at home, where he could do right by his master and protect his homelands from tyrannical invasion. Below him the floor screeched, a loud blaring siren, the veins following suite blazing, an orange warning light illuminating the room and the thin slit where Theron¡¯s eyes rested. A deathly gaze penetrating as he scanned, screens began displaying updates with a single message that read in bold letters across a bright red background: INCOMING COMBATANT SHIP PREPARE FOR IMMEDIATE ENCOUNTER A surge of adrenaline washed over Theron as he darted with swift elegance towards the citadel entrance, a grand opening that split the slope of an ominous pyramid, the opalescent sky radiating above. Below a vibrant city sat in a walled perimeter, vegetation enveloping the metallic skyscrapers and structures - a place of tranquility and exuberance. Life ebbed and flowed within these walls, a society that until a few years prior had lived in perfect harmony, co-existing with nature, reaching never-before seen rates of development - having eradicated poverty within the capital and perfected its relationship with the outside world. A golden age had been achieved, the arts were reflected in the streets, every corner you turned was a new swathe of colour, all aspects of life could be seen being enjoyed to the fullest. And now he watched as a barrage of neon cerulean blades carved their way through the sky, initiating contact with the enemy as they flew overhead, a blot in the picturesque scene. The beams of energy sliced through the ships as they descended with wavering instability, swerving and dodging in failed attempts to avoid contact with the citadel¡¯s impervious defences. Plumes of smoke escaped newly formed orifices on the spacecraft, sending it hurtling into the distance beyond the city. Distant explosions confirmed contact - the enemy had landed and was soon to make it within the outer limits. Ready for prey to meet predator Theron thought to himself, a wide grin etching itself onto his face. Yet, something nagged at him - although he himself had the strength to take down 100 foe, he was alone in this terrifying feat - a thought that sat deep in his mind as 20 more spacecraft followed suit. Normality A heavy metallic taste settled at the base of my mouth, clinging to the stale air of my room as I came to. Touching the back of my head, blood ran fresh from where I had hit my head against the back of the headrest, it stuck to my fingers congealing in the presence of fresh air. I had only been out minutes, if that. Blurred walls of red and white provided the confirmation that I was back in my apartment. Sitting up I found I was still in the far corner of the room in a single bed, clothes scattered across the browned carpet with a table resting in the centre - a mantlepiece for the monstrous tower of takeaway Chinese and Dominos, a vile diet that only abetted the bed rotting. Behind the ajar door was a wardrobe of untouched work garments - pristine jumpsuits that hadn¡¯t seen a day of work since the beginning of the week. Barely visible from dimly lit room you could make out the logo of the factory that I used to call my home - a rowdy group of young men in their late teens and early twenties that at first didn¡¯t have much going for them before they had been picked up by the company and given pay and purpose. Tears fell from my eyes as memories of years spent came flooding back, someplace that in this state I knew I would never be able to return to. Never again would I be able to see the men I would without question call my brothers, never again will I set foot in that building and breathe in the welding fumes - the nickel taste strong in your mouth and a heavy cloud that would hang in the rafters. And never again would I be able to earn a decent day''s pay, the only thing that had set me straight on the day I turned 20 and decided that my life wouldn¡¯t be spent in a damp, dark basement. All because¡­of the visions, all of which had become too real. Everything returned at once, that strange feeling of my thick fingertips touching the fleshy mounds where my eyes should¡¯ve been and that tingling, an electrifying sensation, the likes of which I had never felt before. Surely. Just surely it couldn¡¯t have been a dream? What had felt like an eternity had but been minutes, something that no dream could¡¯ve done. Retching from the considerable lack of nutrition I crawled out of my bedsheets, falling to the floor, knees and arms shaking. Sweating profusely from such a simple task I steadied myself, determined to make it to the kitchen in search of something to eat. Having not left that bed for days on end, everything within my body had begun acting against me, stabbing pains in my side arose, forcing an agonised squeal from my hoarse throat. Bones and joints crunched and hissed like a once well-oiled machine having fallen into disarray and disrepair. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Stepping out into the hallway for the first time in days, everything had remained immaculate, oak furnishings only covered with a light coating of dust, pale white walls blemish free and a soft glow emitted from a salt lamp, casting gentle shadows down the apartment, a fresh sight from the tarnished room which I had just emerged from. I stumbled into the kitchen, catching myself on the corner of the counter in front of me, falling, the thin apartment flooring feeling as though I was sinking through it, descending into a dark abyss. Derealisation took hold, my world spinning, fingers turning pale and bloodless as they clutched at the only seemingly solid object in the room. My knees buckled, a crunch echoed as my bodyweight met the wooden door of the cupboard. I fell to the side and layed there, staring into the ceiling, the bedframe wound on the back of my head reopening, leaving a delicate puddle soaking into the back of my shaggy brown mop. A trembling sigh escaped my lips, a tear rolling down my cheek. An armchair sat not far away, fleeting adrenaline gave me the strength I needed to propel myself into the seat, its corduroy lining and feathered cushions dissipated the aching of my bones and muscles. Hours passed, sleep hijacking my body in the process, a temporary rejuvenation that allowed me the energy to drag myself to the cabinets and reach for the first aid kit and a stale box of cereal. It came out in clumps, thudding against the bowl - edible enough I thought chuckling. Life returned to the empty shell of my body, having been provided with the first scraps of nutrition since early yesterday. A shower now beckoned me, the grime and dirt thick, like a chestplate and vambraces. If I was to ever return to normality this would be the first step and so I limped and hobbled to my escape. Warn water caressed my back and shoulder blades, trickling across my face and past my heavy eyelids. The relief was heavenly, steam enveloping me in a soothing blanket of comfort - those thoughts of the days before had evaporated in my moment of respite and bliss. This peace carried me through the rest of the late evening, to the point where I was sat in my living room, a paradise untampered with from before the week¡¯s beginning, and turning on my phone I discovered the tens of emails and phone calls that had been sent in attempts to contact me in the midst of my disappearance. My heart raced, having forgotten about my friends and colleagues these past few hours, now it all felt another world away. Soon I told myself, soon I would go back to living a normal life when I stop being plagued with these tormenting nightmares. Something had come over me and I realised that the visions had just been that, they were only visions. It wasn¡¯t real. I uttered, a manifestation of my nagging fears that resided deep within me, in hopes that serene sleep would take me. It wasn¡¯t real. New Beginnings Sleep had taken me gently, I awoke sleep heavy in my eyes, my eyesight blurry and my thoughts scattered as I came to. Hitting my nostrils was crisp air and a gentle lavender scent, like the bushes my mum would plant in the front garden and the buzz of the bees could be heard through the window on a warm summer''s day. That same buzz hung in the ambiance now - that same buzz. In fleeting panic, I gripped my chest and felt a single, broad carving that I could only describe as a runic symbol. I was back in that same room - was my imagination this vivid or had this really been real all along? Was I in some lab, some other world, another universe, another dimension? Trembling, my attention turned back to the room which I had begun to realise was only visible through a slit in a helmet that sat securely on my head, lightweight yet rigid and stronger than steel. Designed to limit and obscure my surroundings, yet still durable enough to provide adequate protection from any human weaponry, begging the question, why would I need protection? Surely a cloth rag would be suitable for my current situation? I took the time to view my new prison, searching for the speakers that had announced my departure the last time I was here - they were nestled high in the ceiling, covered in ivy and other hanging foliage that on second glance encased the whole room in a vibrant green, a stark contrast to the industrial steel that also plated every wall, ceiling and floor. Across the floor, those same veins snaked through the room running from the far wall towards me, where in my captive state it was attached securely to the nape of my neck again, this time with other smaller capillaries attached down my back in two neat rows. These I could not see but could feel the cold metal and the pulsating as liquids were being transferred to and from my body. Everything inside me wished to scream and lash out, cry and weep, yet drained from the days before nothing came, not a whisper left my lips until a crackle came from above, the speakers vibrating in preparation for an oncoming message. ¡°Welcome Patient Genesis. I hope you are not too distressed, that is not our intention, it is unfortunate we have to restrain you in such a manner. You can imagine that we have to take the necessary precautions so as to not endanger ourselves nor you. I¡¯m sure by now you will have noticed the markings on your chest, these are what we call the rune archaeica - an ancient language so old that even in our modern society we do not fully understand them. They are conduits for an omnipotent force, so great that if it were to ever be unleashed whole would wreak havoc to our nation and cripple future generations. Hence, as a society we have condemned the use of them for aeons and only now in desperation have we even begun to research them and utilise their power in an attempt to save and preserve our planet. That is why we have summoned you Patient Genesis. You are our last hope.¡± Those final words rung in my ear, like a deafening silence, a foreboding speech that confirmed all that I had suspected. I was no longer on Earth - perhaps a million miles away, never to return and these aliens had captured me for their survival. My blood boiled, what dastardly selfish creatures I thought, ripping me away from my life, from a secure future I had built from the ground up. And how many others? How many others would experience the same onslaught of nightmarish visions, causing them to spiral into crippling depression all to eventually be brought here. Wherever this hell hole was. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Grinding my teeth, I lashed forward, the chains which were holding me captive strained, groaning under the weight of this new form which I now possessed - much larger and broader than I had previously been, hands shaped like bear paws and forearms the size of dumbbells. Echoing around the room a thunderous twang emanated from the metal clasps bolted to the wall. The restraints held. ¡°Please remain calm - your situation is not what you think I assure you. All will be revealed to you in due time, we ask that you relax and allow us to perform some necessary tests. You see, we have watched you, studied you and learned from you Patient Genesis. In fact, we have studied thousands like you, and those of you chosen from Earth will lead us to a great salvation. You will be at the forefront of our nation¡¯s survival and progression into a new age!¡± crackled the speakers, the speech almost ending in a hysterical cackle. Everything about this unnerved me, I steadied my breathing, a raw panting had taken over me earlier, cold sweats running down my forehead splashing on the bottom of the helmet. ¡°And why do you think I should help you? Have you not tortured me this past week, mentally assaulted me and sent me into a depressive state so potent that I couldn¡¯t muster the strength to even walk to my kitchen at times? Why¡­why should I help you when you have stripped away from me everyone and everything I care about - all for you, your selfish goals, your nation. Not mine.¡± I bellowed out in a stammering speech. ¡°You pose a fair point. You have no obligation to help us, your life is as precious as any other on this planet and yours. Yet - your world will be next. This force we are defending from are relentless, they do not sleep, they do not eat, they are walking husks of hunger and hatred. They will stop at nothing until every planet within the galaxy is but an empty shell, a deserted wasteland of no biological life. Then. Then they will move on to the next galaxy, and tear that one from the inside out, consuming anything that gets in their way. So Patient Genesis, you may choose to return to your mundane life, having hailed from nothing and made something for yourself. But now, I give you the opportunity to truly make something of yourself, to save not just our planet but every planet in the galaxy, but your planet included. To be able to save your co-workers, friends, family, loved ones.¡± My legs became numb and I sank to the floor in defeat. If I was to go back now, taking this voice¡¯s words for truth, then I would be condemning not just these people, but the entirety of Earth, all those smiles that would be directed my way when I would walk into work - my family - would be no more. I have not seen this enemy, yet a fire has lit itself in my heart. I have the power here and now to do something great, to make something of myself! Having come from nothing this meant more than anything, having traversed the ends of London in my youth, a troubled youngster that had involved himself with the wrong people countless times. In truth, even now, despite how far I believe I have come, I am but a nameless factory worker, slaving away paycheck to paycheck, something that I will be doing for the rest of my life, until the day I die at this rate. And what will I have to show for it? The voice is right. I am not obliged. These battlegrounds will not be on my homelands, I will not be fighting with my loved ones beside me, I will not be with men I know and trust dearly. I had decided from the moment the speaker stopped crackling, and now as I sit on the cold, steel-like floor, a new passion has begun to grow inside me. ¡°I understand,¡± I replied into the cold room, ¡°I will fight with your men, I will see it through till the end. I¡¯m ready.¡± With that, the wall on the far side hissed, a slit appearing as two doors parted, sliding open a white mist escaping from outside and into the room. Two figures appeared in white robes. I was about to meet my maker.