The Silver Soldier

IV

"Blood pressure?"

"130 over 80, sir."

"Pulse?"

"153." A voice answers, he is young, excited. "15 higher than it was two minutes ago."

"Write that down." The first man orders. "This one is different."

"Could he be the one, sir?"

A pause. "There is no way to tell." A pair of footsteps move away from me, then they come back. I can only hear them, I don't want to open my eyes, I don't want to move. All I can do is listen. "What is he again?"

"Human, as far as the tests show."

"Why would they send us a human?"

"I don't think they did. Look" There is another pause, then the flipping of paper. "His brain waves spiked when I took his blood, then again a few minutes later."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He reacted to pain, watch."

There is a pain in my lower arm, like someone had made an incision in my skin. I want to wince, to react, but I can't. I don't know what they will do if they know I am awake. As soon as the pain comes, something begins to beep. A monitor of some sort.

"So? Doesn't everyone?"

"Not on this level, sir."

"And you said it happened again a few minutes later, why?"

"This brain activity spike here," the younger man says, "this was at the exact time we argued about his blood type. Don't you see, sir?" He asks. "This boy reacts to pain and conflict. What creature behaves the same way?"

"Do you think..."

"Yes sir, I do."

The older man seems to think about what was said. Then, "Contact me immediately when his test results come in, that is an order. Tell no one else, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He. "Then you are dismissed, doctor."

After the young doctor leaves, the room is silent. The man that remains mutters something in russian. "What am I to do with you?" He asks in english, seemingly closer to me now. I feel his hand brush the hair out of my face, he tilts my head to the side, examining the side of my neck. I want to swat his hand away. "Interesting." He utters.

He raises my arm, applying a bit of pressure to my wrist, then puts it back down.

"I know you're awake, son."

Shit.

"Open your eyes, let's talk." He says, his voice containing a thick Russian accent. Against my better judgement, I listen to him. I blink against the light above me, my vision adjusting to the brightness of the room.

I find myself looking at a man, maybe in his mid 50's, with greying hair and blue eyes, sitting in a chair beside me. I am on a table, like the ones someone might find in a morgue. And as I study the room around me, I realize that a morgue is exactly where I am.

I sit up, propping myself up on the palm of my hands. I am still in the same clothes I had worn to school, my phone is still in my pocket. The man speaks.

"Mr. Stilinski, is it not?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Do you know how you're alive?" He asks, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. I shake my head. "That's a shame." He scans me up and down. "I was hoping at least one of us would know."

"Am-" I stutter. "Am I not supposed to be alive?"

"No, Mr. Stilinski." He watches me with an interest I've never seen in a man before, only in predatory animals. "No you are not." When I don't say anything, he continues. "When you were sent to us, you were dead, you have been for the past fortnight. And then, this morning, you gained a pulse."

"I was dead?" I ask, my memory hazy. How did I die? Why did I die?

"You and the four others they sent."

"They?" I ask, but I already know who he is talking about. I begin to remember everything. The Dread doctors, Theo, Scott...

"They sent us five of you, yet you were the only one to revive yourself... the only one out of almost 400 thousand." He narrows his eyes, both confused and intrigued. "So what makes you so special?"

"Who are you?" I ask, not wanting to answer his question, rhetorical or not. I know what I am. I know what the Dread Doctors made me into. I know what I'm different then the others this man has tested on.

"I am Dr. Fridrik Romanovich, I am head of experiments in this facility." He states, clearing his throat. "You see, Mr. Stilinski, we have a peculiar job here, we take the bodies of... how should I say this... certain young men and women, and we study them. The men and women chosen are special, they have abilities unlike those of a normal human being. You could consider them as... supernatural." He pauses, letting me soak the information in. "And what we do here, is we take those special abilities, and we try to extract them. And until now - until you, Mr. Stilinski - we have not succeeded."

"The Dread Doctors, they work with you?"

"Is that what you call them?" He looks at me quizzically. "But yes, they are with us."

I nod, everything is beginning to come together now. "You have them turn teenagers into a mix of supernatural creatures called chimeras, like in the legends." I explain, he looks surprised. "They were originally part lion, part eagle, part goat. Except, I assume that isn't what you are doing."

"You've done your research, my boy. I am impressed."

"I'm assuming I came with a girl, Tracy Stewart." When he nods in confirmation, I think back to what Deaton had said. "She was a hybrid between a werewolf and kanima, is that correct?" Again, he nods. "And Noah, he was part berserker."

"Yes." The Doctor holds my gaze. "And you, Mr. Stilinski? What are you?"

"Human." I tell him, but it isn't the full truth, and he seems to know it. From what I heard, he already knows what I am, both his and the younger doctor. He just wants to hear it from me.

"And?"

"Fox." I say. "A nogitsune, to be exact."

He uncrosses his arms, relaxing. "Very interesting indeed."

I look around once more. There are no windows, no source of natural light. We must be underground, somewhere. Not in the United States, that is obvious. Nothing here is written in English. "Where are we?" I ask, returning my gaze to him.

He pauses, unsure. But he eventually give in. "Russia, my boy, we are in Russia." He explains. "And this," he gestures around us, "this is Hydra."