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HISTORY OF SUBJECT #394
DAY 1: Our studies indicated someone capable was in the area. It is dangerous to try again, but we are in quite dire straights. So, we sent out the scouts, and after multiple weeks of searching, they finally found her, huddled in a back alleyway, dirty and mangy.
We brought her in willingly, off the streets, with a promise of food, safety, and a place to stay. She didn’t struggle, in fact she almost fell into our recruiter’s arms when he mentioned the opportunity. She asked no further questions, surprisingly, even when we passed through the gates. She simply seemed happy to be safe. There was an attempt made to get some baseline information from her—family history, health issues, etc., but she wouldn’t even give us a name. She is quoted as saying, “Just call me A.”
DAY 5: She has warmed up considerably, and put on some weight. A has also began to trust one of our interns, Cole. They talk often, and we have been questioning him to see if she has divulged any personal information, but he is adamant she only asks him questions. She says she likes to hear him speak.
We plan to begin testing in the morning. We will have Cole bring her to the control room.
DAY 9: She has issues warming up, even when she has been removed from the testing area. She often looks pale and distressed, and frequently asks for blankets. When asked about her status, though, she assures us she is used to the cold, but when she thinks we turn our backs we see how much she shivers. Perhaps consider switching to the warm testing environment, at least until further notice.
DAY 17: A has lost the weight she gained when she first arrived, and then some. Our nurses put her in at about 10 pounds below her ideal weight, which is concerning to say the least. Whether she comes from the heat room or the cold room, she always comes back looking distressed. The recommendation is to relax from testing until further notice.
However, on a positive note, Cole reported that in one of his nightly check-ins, he noticed frost encroaching on the windowsill, something he hadn’t seen before. We may be getting somewhere.
DAY 28: It has been approximately a month since we brought A in, and while she is still weak, she is showing immense progress. Rooms are often cold when we enter them, despite the thermostat being high, and her core body temperature has dropped considerably without any considerable negative effects.
Her relationship with Cole, however, is becoming a bit concerning. He is only an intern, so he hasn’t quite learned how to not be attached yet. We may be moving him off the case. We will keep you posted.
DAY 53: A has grown considerably in her powers. Your reports read that she is much more comfortable in the cold room than in the hot one, and that the hot room always ends up stabilizing to a much cooler temperature. We have had similar experiences here in the ward.
Hopefully we will be able to start exploiting her powers soon. The situation outside is dire; news from the poles say the ice caps are all but gone. Florida has already begun an emergency evacuation. With her current progress, I suspect A will be ready for her premiere on the world stage by day 80. It may be premature to hope for this, but for the sake of the world, we need her dearly.
DAY 74: We are just over a week from releasing A, but I am beginning to get concerned. She has become defiant, using the cold to force people out of her room. She asks for Cole only, and only he is offered a reprieve from the icy depths. Otherwise, we are kept away. Restraints are recommended, and a reduction on her powers. She is beginning to get out of hand, even for us.
DAY 78: She has refused to speak to anyone besides Cole in 4 days. We have reason to suspect she has been informed of our true intent. Immediate withdrawal of the serum is imperative.
DAY 79: The window in her room is broken. A and Cole are nowhere to be seen. The room is covered in slick ice. The only evidence left behind was a piece of paper, with the worlds scrawled in shaky script—“My name is Aella, goddess of the winter and cold, and I will not be controlled.” Lockdown and immediate search of the premises and surrounding area has already begun.
DAY 80: Subject number 394 has been lost. Experiment terminated.
God help us all.
END HISTORY OF SUBJECT #394
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This was later found inscribed into a cave wall in the remote wilderness of Canada. Origins are unknown, but many speculate it belongs to the savior calling herself Aella, who is presumed to be subject #394. This speculation has never been able to be confirmed.
xxxxxThey took everything from me.
xxxxxThe world had fallen to pieces years ago. There were plenty of warnings, of course, but when the warnings include the ice caps melting and you live in sunny California, the news seems so distant and small that you almost can’t help but ignore it. So that’s what everybody did.
xxxxxBy the time everyone got their stuff together, it was too late. The damage was irreversible. Society slipped somewhat into chaos.
xxxxxThe government became so preoccupied with trying to save the world that they sort of forgot about their own backyard. The Institutional Review Board was one of the first committees to go; they didn’t realize the implications this would have on research until it was too far gone. After all, not all scientists are climatologists.
xxxxxAfter the initial “scandalous” research opportunities were exhausted—stem cell research, medical trials, animal experimentation—scientists almost seemed stumped with what to do. To put it plainly, they were bored. So, a few of them, namely Dr. Houston, teamed up with the brand-new Climate Change Prevention Team to try and combine their findings with the current world-saving research.
xxxxxAnd thus, the Climate Change Research Facility was born.
xxxxxI wasn’t the first, I don’t think. When they pulled me off those boiling frantic streets, initially all I could think about was the opportunity for some air conditioning and a bit of peace of mind. However, as I became acclimated, I began to notice some signs. My room showed signs of wear, the nurses eyed me with caution, and, most unnervingly, there were small scratches embedded deep into the drywall.
xxxxx
Cole was one of the only reasons I got through it, at first. Every day, he would come in and sit and talk with me. He was the only one there who made me feel like a person instead of an experiment. We would sit together and he would just tell me stories, full of wonder and happiness and relaxation. Occasionally, he would tell me stories of snow.
xxxxxThe longer I stayed in the facility, though, the less frequent my visits with Cole became. I started being pulled back into the testing rooms more and more often, and stayed there for longer and longer periods of time. Once, I didn’t leave the rooms for a week.
xxxxxIn the beginning, I didn’t really know what they were looking for, or who was looking for it. Dr. Houston was my most frequent researcher, a man with a smile like God’s but eyes as empty as the Devil’s. I never trusted that man.
xxxxxHe gave me what he called vaccinations to “prevent disease,” but the longer that went on the clearer it became to me that these were not simply immunizations. They were injecting me with something.
xxxxxI let it happen, because they gave me food and a place away from the outside world and, most importantly, a friend, but I often felt uneasy about this. I was walking a tightrope of consent—supremely uncomfortable but not wanting to rock the boat. I was in dire straights. Frequently, I would cry to Cole about my situation, and he would comfort me as best he could.
xxxxxIt was during one of those crying sessions that I realized somewhat what was going on, when my tears froze to my face.
xxxxxThings began to fall into place after that, like pieces at the very end of a puzzle. Soon, I was able to somewhat manipulate the ice, and even bring down the temperature in a room. Dr. Houston and his team were overjoyed. They kept pushing me harder and harder, letting me take less breaks, using me for their own selfish greed.
xxxxxIt was around this time that Cole and I began tossing around ideas of escape.
xxxxxThey were silly ideas at first, facets of the stories he told me whenever he got the time. However, as we pressed the issue, the more serious it became to us. I would frost out the door and we would talk for hours on end about getting out, about being free. I was adamant that if I was going to save the world, I wanted it to be on my own terms.
xxxxxFinally, Cole broke down and told me everything.
xxxxxI was not the first subject on their list. I was part of a massive program designed to manipulate the genes of certain Kalons deemed “qualifiable” due to a minor mutation. The end goal was to take this army of genetically modified Kalons, and use them to repair the damage climate change had done, and then euthanize all but a select few who were to be deemed “government workers” who would stick around to correct the issue should it ever happen again. Essentially, as unique as I seemed, I was simply a pawn in their game.
xxxxx
I froze out the door, this time for good. Cole and I spent four days planning out escape and then, at 2am, shattered the glass on my window and jumped to safety.
xxxxxEven at night the ground was burning hot; it had turned to summer in the 3 months I’d spent inside. I froze the ground where I could, for Cole’s sake, but I needed to cover our tracks. Soon his feet became nearly black due to the burns.
xxxxxWe were worried, but we kept running. We were tired, but we kept running. We were afraid, but we kept running. We needed to keep running. All we knew is that we needed to go north, so that’s where we went.
xxxxxCole kept getting weaker. The heat was nearly unbearable; the chances of finding water were slim to none. I tried to keep him sustained by freezing what I could, but the effort it took him to melt the ice took more energy out of him than the small droplets of water gave to him. As we went on, it became clear to me he was going to die.
xxxxxOn his last good day, it was unusually brisk. The cold didn’t affect me, not anymore, but I could see Cole welcoming it. It was almost as though he was being blessed with one last cold morning, before he slipped into the burnt hands of God. I still remember the way he looked at me, face gaunt, eyes dry and red and puffy, mouth dry as sand, still beautiful as ever.
xxxxxHe still haunts my nightmares.
xxxxxAfter that, he wasted away into nothing. I left him under a tree, with a small kiss on the forehead and as much ice and cold as I could conjure. Before he died, he told me this—“Don’t let anyone control you. You are so much more than that.”
xxxxxI stayed at his side until he was gone.
xxxxxThe days became lonely after that. The evergreen trees were cold and unforgiving and I found myself straying from my due course, simply wandering the wilderness. On one of my “expeditions,” I stumbled upon an empty cave. Having nothing better to do, I went inside.
xxxxxIt was cool and damp inside, with a small skylight at the very top, with a shaft of sunlight coming through and bouncing off the small pool of water in the back. All things considered, I found it quite beautiful.
xxxxxI sat down against the stone wall, staring at the light reflecting off the small pool of water, and found myself contemplating what it would be like to die.
xxxxxI never asked to live like this. All things considered, if I hadn’t been chosen, I probably would’ve lived the rest of my life out on the hot California streets before I inevitably met my untimely death, either at the hand of a store clerk or guardsmen or maybe even at the hands of an unlikely foe. Regardless, I would’ve died and never been more than a small blip on the world’s radar.
xxxxxInstead, I had the entire fate of humanity in my hands.
xxxxxI didn’t want this responsibility, I didn’t ask for it. It was well within my hands to give it up with the world never knowing what they had lost, sacrificing their souls for the sake of my wellbeing. If I gave up now, the world would never have hope.
xxxxxIf I lived, though, and they knew I lived, I would give the world the most treacherous gift—hope.
xxxxxHeroes never really want to be heroes. They are forced into it, either by some naive idea that they can really change the world, or by a contrived sense of responsibility conjured up in their own self-deprecating minds. I suppose I fall into the latter.
xxxxxI never wanted to save the world. I never wanted these powers. I never wanted to be who I am. If I could reverse time, I would.
xxxxxBut time devours everything, and there is no way for me to get that back. I have to simply keep marching forward.
xxxxxSome do what they must, because they feel they can. I do what I can, because I feel I must. The fate of humanity has, unfortunately, fallen into my hands.
