"Wake up" Two hazel eyes shot open and looked around. This was not a familiar environment. The eyes saw machines, buttons, tools, and light. So much light. "Ah. You're awake." A voice. Not familiar. But....calm...sinister. *sting*. The eyes looked to the side and saw a man. The man wore a white mask. "Welcome back to the world of the living." "Where am I?" The mouth of the man that the eyes belonged to spoke. "The site of your rebirth. That's all you need to know." *Sting*. The man cringed in a tiny amount of pain before furrowing his brows at the scientist. "That doesn't answer my question." "I do not seek to answer any question of yours." The man simply sighed and looked around. *sting*. He saw his arms restrained. But, something wasn't right. His arms didn't feel like his arms. At least, not entirely. "What are you doing to me?" *sting* "Look for yourself. I'm not stopping you." *sting* The man lifted his neck and head little by little.
His eyes widened in shock. He looked at his open chest with fear. Artificial tubes running from his heart, metal ribs replacing bone, artificial lungs, metal bones, muscles almost completely replaced with artificial matter. "What the hell is this?! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS???!!" "Your rebirth." ".....why?!" "Intelligence. Exponential. Body. Solid as steel. Perfection incarnate. We couldn't resist. We just had to get our hands on you. And soon, you will become elite. Better than those below us." "What are you saying?! There is no 'below us!' You're crazy! Let me go!!!" "You forget boy. We saved you." The man sat there. It all hit him. The truck. The race. He remembered it all. "That's no excuse!" The scientist sighed. "We were hoping to convince you but....it seems that you have forced our hand. He took out a syringe and started to walk towards the man. No. No. No. No. No! No! The man closed his eyes as the syringe shot the liquid into him.
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Two hazel eyes shot open and looked around. Only a dream. He looked forward. The glass of his stasis tube was all he was met with. He closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep. He opened his eyes again. Great. Stupid dream, complicating things such as sleep. He looked down at his hands. His hands. 2 Armored Sacramento green gloves sat on them. The cuffs of which where fastened tightly around his wrists and forearms. He balled his hands into fists in anger at his failure in his first mission. Oh well. There will be more. Many more.
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Bright blue eyes open slowly. The owner of these stirred as he struggled to resist slipping back into the sweet bliss of rest. But a sudden slap to the face with 3 pillows helped with that....... "Ok, Ow! God Dammit Dimitris! are your pillow cases filled with rocks?!" The three aforementioned kids hid there pillows behind their backs sheepishly. "No." They said nervously as a bar of soap dropped out of one of the pillow cases. The boy only sighed and got out of bed, stretching a little before walking to the bathroom slowly. All the while crossing his fingers and repeating "please don't be occupied" over and over. He finally makes and.... "Dammit!"....it was occupied. And if he had to guess, it was the 2nd set of triplets in this household. "Forget this! I'll eat breakfast first!" He lumbers downstairs in a huff, grabs his food, also in a huff, and sits down, calmly this time. But he's still angry. As he eats a young boy slowly walks over to him. "Are you-" The main boy grabs the "assailant" by his wrist pulling his arm behind his back, and holds the butter knife to his neck. But he lowers it and lets go when he sees who he's restraining. "Now I see why Dolly never sneaks up on you." "Dawkins? Crap dude, you almost gave me a heart attack." "Not as much as the one you nearly gave me! Where did you learn that move anyway?" "Well, before Dad moved here I spent most of my time studying martial arts, namely: Kung fu, Karate, and Judo. Wanted to be ready." "Oh.... well, by the way, I hope you have money." "Why?" Dawkins points to the wall. There was a butter knife in it. "Agh! Crap! Why did I throw it!?" The boy says before facepalming. Dawkins chuckles before walking away. "Also Da Vinci needs new art supplies so, if you could handle that, that would be great." "What do you think I am, made of money?" "Well you damaged the wall." The boy's eyes widened before dropping back to their previous state. "Oh ha ha, you're a comedic genius. Now go help Dylan with whatever mundane crap he needs." Dawkins snickers as he walks off. The boy walks to the living room and sits down on the couch. And is immediately pushed off. "Off the couch! You haven't showered today!" "Dylan! What the hell?!" "Language." "Dylan, I've cussed about 3 times today. You can't stop me." Dylan sighed. "Marshall, what are we gonna do with you?" "You say that like I'm a nuisance." "Sometimes you are." "You too." Dylan sighs again. "Just go take a shower." "Love you too brother." Marshall, the boy, walks up the stairs and once again begs to god that the bathroom isn't occupied. He quietly knocks on the door. Silence. He swings the door open and enters before closing it again and taking a shower. A hot, relaxing shower that can't be interru- And the water is scalding. Marshall screams in both anger and pain. He turns off the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. He hears giggling from behind the door and turns around with a face that just screams murderous intent. "Dizzy. Dee Dee. Neither of you are FUNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!" Marshall shouted, exploding in anger which caused the two aforementioned girls to run away, still laughing at their prank. Marshall walks to his room and puts on new clothes. A simple red shirt, some black pants and some socks. His shoulder length hair had gone flat from the shower, but it wasn't anything to fret over. He simply added 6 curlers to the left side and combed the right one back. He has a weird hairstyle. Similar to Ankh's. But enough about that. He grabbed his red coat and slipped on his red Gucci loafers and walked downstairs. He grabbed his bag, kissed his baby sister Dorothy on the head, and ran out the door. Only to slip a soon as he makes it out. He sighs at his clumsiness and runs to school.
