Shatter [MYG]

Prologue

Yang Haru was dying.

At least, that's what it felt like. Like all the air was being sucked out of his lungs and pumped into his chest until it was on the verge of exploding. Like his very skin was on fire and his bones were covered in spikes stabbing into his insides. Like his head was being clawed into pieces by some monster in his brain.

He screamed and tasted something metallic in the back of his throat, the same warm liquid that was trickling down his wrists. They were rubbed raw from pulling on the metal shackles pining each of his limbs to a corner of the bed.

A man stood over him, hair slicked back, dressed in a crisp white suit. He peered at his clipboard and then flicked his eyes back to Haru.

"Patient appears to have no symptoms of transformation other than extreme pain," he remarked to the severe-looking woman next to him.

"Indeed," she replied. "Perhaps it's his age. I think we'd have better luck on slightly older ones who have finished developing. There might be too many changes still happening to a thirteen-year-old to make any unnatural ones."

"An excellent hypothesis." He marked a note on the clipboard.

Haru started thrashing again, making some sort of strange, hoarse whimper. "I don't think we're going to get any results. How long do you think it will take for the subject to die?"

The woman scoffed at his question. "Far too long, which I suppose is my fault. I make a point of picking specimens with a motivation to live. Those that don't usually find a way to kill themselves within their first day."

"Chaewon," Haru gasped.

She agreed, "Yes, exactly."

The man, none other than the renown Dr. Park, laughed. She was pretty sure he had a crush on her. It was a shame he was exceptionally ugly- she needed a date to a party her friend was throwing next week. Not that Yeji wouldn't have a panic attack if a 40-year-old man showed up.

"Why don't you put him out of his misery? Listening to so much screaming can't be good for my complexion." Park touched his face as he spoke.

With all due respect, doctor, your problems lay not with how clear your skin is, but with your personality and the fact that you look like a sick eel. "Right away, sir."

He left without another word, the door slamming shut behind him. Always one for dramatic exits, he was.

From her desk she grabbed an object. A key. It took some tugging to open the cuffs after she unlocked them. She tried not to think about how much use it must have taken to get the joints so stiff. There was no concerned glance at the security camera in the corner as she worked. She had friends in all the right places, after all.

The window slid open and five masked figures crawled through it. They each gave her a nod of acknowledgment and then raised him from the bed. She watched as they lifted the poor kid through and loaded him into a waiting truck in total silence.

As they drove away, she whispered to nobody, "Let them nurse you back to health. They're the good guys. But then, my friend, you must run."

—
Lol behold my insanity. I decided to wait on the cover until I get home and can do it on my computer. And yeah. Have a great day and stuff. Happy Forth of July and all that if you like being kept awake until three in the morning. Ily.