WARNING,
sensitive content ahead.
Viewer discretion advised.
Reports had said that the sight of their body was too 'gruesome,’ and the elder sibling was not granted a viewing in their death. They were taken away before anyone had a chance to even glance upon them—
— but by whom, nobody knew.
The younger boy was put in a daze.
He had been completely and utterly heartbroken, and had anyone allowed their body a gaze, he would have broken down in tears even before looking upon his beloved sibling.
At the end of that day, a small memorial service populated by only the brother was held, and then no one else but him ever spoke of them, much like the rest of the populous had treated their father’s disappearance.
— Inside of a facility in a place unknown, a mangled body dropped onto a medical table.
It was there on this table in this foreign facility where that body had first been injected with a number of serums.
Various mixtures comprised of it, and in order for it to take effect, it had first needed to be delivered to the right atrium of the heart. There, it was injected.
A component within that mix would coerce the heart to pump, moving the mixture to the ventricle. The serum would then further spread through the lungs, and, as it would reveal that the components were assembled much like blood, would pick up oxygen. This oxygen would be provided by methods of CPR.
The oxygenated mixture would finally be further returned back to the heart’s left side, and pumped to the rest of the body.
There, it would assimilate into the blood, and the variables would further enhance the body’s immune and other systems in due time of this assimilation.
The men in charge of the body’s station would next begin to resurrect it.
They mended the broken bones and transplanted working organs where they were needed, and they proceeded to further implant within the body several peculiar and varied microchips.
Two were received in their palms, and a small generator had been placed in the right side of their chest, to master and regulate them all, to conduct the electricity running through the body reasonably without overloading it.
To keep them alive.
Two in their feet, to draw and exert these currents of electricity to and from the ground beneath them. To further fuel them.
These four chips were to be known simply as their voltage radiators.
These four chips would be the key to turning this human into their own biotechnological monster.
After these procedures were finished, they had aimed to place another chip within their head, which would ultimately rewire all of the brain’s desires.
The elder sibling would become a tool. The perfect puppet.
This did not go as planned.
Suddenly, they had awoken.
The first thing they had done, to a surgeon nearly about to pierce into their head with his scalpel, was to grab him by the neck and electrocute him to death with their newfound power.
It was like a switch. The trigger had been pulled instantly upon their waking, rage bidding their blood run quick enough to invoke a reaction from the generator.
They had not yet known that they were capable of outputting such a deadly power.
They simply wished him dead. That was all there was to it.
At that moment, the elder sibling's head was filled with hellfires, never to be quelled again by another human being.
The surgeon fell to the floor, dead.
“Where the fuck is he.”
The sirens of the facility blared in their ears, overseers running about frantically and surgeons trying desperately to exit their block.
None of them would.
The newly born monster wished a bloodbath.
A bloodbath is what they would get.
Each and every one of them fell by their hand, and when asked their simple question, none responded.
Like brainless apes.
Their scars still burned, but they still managed busting down the door of their block and traveling the facility just fine, taking down all who would dare stand against them.
Simple answers came from those overseers screaming at the top of their lungs as they approached into the telephones.
‘The project failed.’
‘You told us we had more time than this, what is that serum?!’
‘Our goal is still so far! Please, help us!’
They found it repulsive and useless.
Blood staining their every step, they decided on their own to gather what information they could, with these people being so redundant.
Barging into doors, killing more, taking what could be of help.
Why had they been alive? How?
Where was he?
Diagrams seemed useful. Floppy drives full of statistics. Extra vials of the serum laying around.
Yet, nothing answered their last question.
It irked them. They decided if he wasn't here, the place full of these wretched people should burn.
A longer walk around the facility granted them the location of the main power generator, and upon a single tap, it had been pushed to the point of exploding with how much energy it had been subject to taking upon their touch.
They exited the building within those few seconds remaining before it had,
and watched it disintegrate into oblivion.
Hair singed to a pale white to forever stay that way, the once lifeless body glowered upon their carnage, and just like before, they felt nothing.
They truly wondered why.
Hand reached up, and there in their palms, they found scars.
Another few scars yet along their chest.
Those people had done something to them, is what they gathered.
They had done something, and that something is ultimately why they brought them back.
Was it planned? Was it staged?
The thought angered them yet again. Roused their rage, in an instant, they understood their period of madness.
They were not meant to be here.
They were killed to be used.
They were killed to become this.
Waking again upon this Earth from their dead was the ultimate shame.
Thus birthed a need for revenge. A gaping, black hole in their heart, filled only with madness and hatred.
Thoughts rushed.
They had left the child brother alone.
Left him all alone so they could do this to them.
Why for?
Had they done this to someone else somewhere?
For what purpose?
No care for the rest. Their brother was left to fend on his own, and for that, the firstborn’s blood never ceased boiling again.
Yet, they could not go back like this—
a monster with no trace of the human they once were. A monster that would would only frighten him.
That is when it was decided.
They would not return, then.
For months, they had roamed instead, searching.
Brushing and perfecting those technological skills that they had once called a mere hobby to get into hidden databases. Using their own engineering to create their personalized weaponry for the day when they would ruin them all.
Scrounging up some form of an identity— far away from who they had once been, adopting male hormones into the list of things he would come to thieve and silently thanking that the initial procedures had robbed him of the effeminate features of before.
It would be the only thing he was grateful for amidst their treason.
Every other fathomable aspect of his expertise went into tracking them. To learning about them. To knowing what he was now, what he could do. Trial after trial, with success after error. He learned and he learned, using those stored away resources of his own arsenal and those he had taken the day of his awakening.
Thoughts of his brother would enter his head every so now and then. He wondered how he fared by himself. Wondered if he were strong enough to handle himself.
At some point, he recognized that he had lost the ability to cry.
It only solidified the fact that he would and could not face him again like this. He would not face him until those people were six feet under for ever plotting something like this, for subjecting himself to it, and a possible countless amount of others for a reason he could not possibly care to try and understand.
He would not face him knowing that he could be next, and at any moment, he had the chance to stop it. To shield it from his eyes.
To save him again.
Perhaps at the very end, if he lived, he would return to him.
It would be up to him whether or not he could still accept such an inhuman monster, wouldn't it?
Well, it would just be his choice, and he would decide if he would want to further live or just return to death based upon it.
This new way of life came with solidarity in his new identity, and so, casting off his old self, he named himself something he saw more appropriate.
“Dedecus.”
In his eyes, it was all too fitting.
After all, such a beast that ruthlessly takes life and does not falter due to aspects of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ deserves no sort of flattering name,
right?