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The Specimens

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The scientists made their descent into the cold, dark, dank room. A hideous stench filled their nostrils, one smelling of thousands of years of rotting, maggot filled corpses, the smell of a crypt, but by now they were used to it. They looked upon the weary test subjects, slaves to their every whim, as per their design. The subjects were all boys of fifteen years, who had been castrated and made infertile to keep from breeding. They were created by the scientists and had been locked in this room for the last fifteen years until they were finally ready for testing. Their will and spirit crushed, and all free thought eliminated from their minds, these men would be trained starting today.

The program trained them for the U.S. Secret Service, making it so they would give their own life for the president. But this was no easy job and required intense discipline. Of course, that was only the cover story. None of these boys ever left the facility, instead the government was bribed to let the scientists complete their jobs in peace.

What they actually did was train these men to be perfect in every way, then leave them to wait until the time would come when they would be given the order to march out in their army and take control. But their great plans were over. They shot all of the test subjects, brutally murdering them to hide the evidence. The government had stopped taking the bribes and now they were coming to see what they were doing. The test subject’s brains were blown out in close range with a shotgun, causing an entire implosion of their heads. The perfect brain, perfect eyes, perfect blood vessels, all instantaneously became imperfect, with the bullet ripping and tearing them, and then the subsequent painting of the crypt walls. One by one, they all died, until there was only one. This was the original. The first one to be created was right in front of that shotgun, not even cringing, for these men knew no emotion.

Then, things changed. The scientists left the room, giving the original a single command. They left, and did not return. Two weeks after their disappearance, the original followed his commands. He was told naught a reason for any of his actions, only told that they would set the stage. He took the serum which the scientists were working on before they left. He took the poison as told, and survived. With no thoughts, he considered nothing about any of this, but perhaps the poison was slowly killing him to remove the last bit of evidence after the order was complete. Then, he marched out of the now abandoned and condemned facility, straight into Washington D.C.

He went to the abandoned building across from Pennsylvania Avenue. There he saw the last scientist, Dr. Zitzfield, the others all having been secretly killed by the government to erase evidence of their program. The program they let slide, and were glad to have finally destroyed for fear of what would come. The final orders were given, he left the building, and Dr. Zitzfield watched as he marched into the White House, immune to the bullets fired at him and the guys attacking him, went into the Oval Office, and locked and blocked the door behind him. He looked at the president, Mr. John Henry Eden.

“Why must you do this? Do you realize what will happen if you kill me? There will be chaos everywhere. Why control a world, where there is no order?”

Then, Dr. Zitzfield entered through a window, after having taken out the many guards, with a slight grin upon his face. “President Eden, these humans that you speak of mean nothing to us. They are merely our specimens, as are you.”

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