Chapter 1

I woke up with a start. There was a scraping sound coming from outside of my room. Who am kidding? The noise was coming from outside of my cell. It was still dark. We were not supposed to be up yet.

I quietly got off of my cot, walked over to the bars of my cell and peeked out between the bars, as much as they would allow me.

Through the thick darkness, I could see what looked like a pair of feet that were dragging on the ground. I was quick to figure, that there had been another field death. But I was not worried, as I knew that soon, there would be a resurrection.

Sighing, I began to walk back into the shadows of my cell. That was when the chain that was attatched to my left foot, scraped the floor. Right then, I knew it was over.

Before I could dash to the safety of my bed, a metal, clawed hand, reached through the bars and closed tightly around my throat. I made an unsucessful attempt to pry my attacker off, even though I knew it was hopeless.

"Well, well, well." I knew that voice. It belonged to the most notorious Lazarus Agent, Markus "Claw" Evans. As Claw tightened his grip, I began to see spots. Claw, who could care less about anyone, continued,

"Looks like the little runt can't wait to get his treatment." A gurgle escaped my lips, as I tried to apologize.

"CLAW!" A new, icy-cold voice arrived in front of me, to the left of Claw. "Leave the runt alone." That was Rex. Though Rex had never liked me, he always stepped in, when Claw took it upon himself to punish us fledglings.

Claw had a particularly keen eye for me. The reason... no clue🤷🏻

Claw's grip loosened, but not enough to allow air back into my lungs. I knew I was fading.

"Claw..." Rex's voice was a low growl. "If you kill him now, imagine what the boss would say."

My mind reeled. I wanted to tell Rex: "*CENSORED* the boss! Tell Metal Head to put me down!" But since my throat was closed, the only thing that came out, was "f-th-bo-s-s *COUGH!* E-elp!"

"Fine." Claw released me completely this time, and I fell to the floor, as I struggled for fresh air. Phew. That was way too close! But,

Claw was apparently not done with dishing out punishments... "Alright!" Claw's voice reverberated through the prison, causing the rest of my prison-mates to moan. Claw, however, was not interested and continued to shout "All of you freaks get up! NOW! And you can thank Runt over here, for your early treatment."

I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, as I heard protests and sarcastic thank you's, that were undoubtedly aimed towards me.

Claw ungracefully picked me up by my upper arm, dragged me out of my cell and threw me to Rex, who caught me before I hit the floor. As I regained my balance, I felt compelled to thank my savior. "Thank... *SLAP!* My cheek stung, as I tried to hold back the tears that threatened to breach my eyes. Rex... had... "Shut it, Runt." Rex cut in before I could finish processing what he had just done.

"HAHA! That was a good one Rex!" Claw seemed to have witnessed, and enjoyed the whole thing.

Rex turned away from me, and for a miniute, I thought he was going to kill Claw right in front of myself and the other onlookers. "Claw." Rex's voice had a poisionous tone to it, "If I had wanted your approval, I would have asked for it." The two field agents stared at each other for what felt like an hour, before

Claw finally snorted a laugh, turned away, and started ulocking the rest of the cells.

My prison-mates and I, were marced down the long hall, out into the court yard, and then instructed to line up by the gate.

That was when I realized that Rex had placed me first in the line. My heart skipped a beat. Rex knew that I could not stand our daily treatments. Had he placed me first, just for spite? I looked at Rex, searching his face for any sign that he was just joking around, but he did not return my gaze.

It wasn't the fact that I was scared of the treatments. No, I was scared about where my mind always escaped to, during the treatments... the day I died.

I suppose that I am getting ahead of myself. Let me explain...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

TEN YEARS AGO: It all happened after the accident. Our family car had been following behind a sixteen-wheeler, when the truck's back tire on the passenger side exploded. A huge chunk of the rubber tire, flew into our window. The last thing that I remembered, before blacking out, was a searing pain in my right arm.

I woke in the hospital, three days later. My right arm had been carefully placed on the bed, sitting limply at my side.

I remember the look that my parents shared, when they heard the doctor explain that I would never be able to use that arm again, and that some kind of deadly infection that was unfamiliar to three doctors, had apparently been spreading its way throughout my body.

The doctors told my parents that I had a week, before I succumed to the disease. My parents were heartbroken.

As the end of my short life neared, a strange man came into my room. He spoke with my parents for about an hour, before turning towards me. Although I was only eight, my heart seemed to know that something was off about this man.

"Hello, Phoenix." The man said, walking over to me.

"Hi." My voice was wispy, since I was weak.

The man took no time in stating the main fact of my current position, "Phoenix. You're going to die."

I choked back a sob, wincing as my arm jerked. "I-I know."

The man had a menacing smile, as he leaned towards me, almost so our noses touched. "But..." Dang it! There's always a 'but.' "...what if I told you that I'm going to give you a new life?"

As a dying eight year-old, the curious part of my mind wanted the man to explain what he was talking about. Was he God? Or was he some other entity that could give people a second chance at life?

"No, I am not a god." The man spoke, as if he had read my mind. "But you, my boy, can be a "Lazarus." With that, the man pulled away and walked back towards my parents. "I know that you care about your son, but if you truly love him, you'll let me take him to my lab... "NO!"

I surprised myself by my own outburst.

My parents and the man, all turned and looked at me. "No." I repeated, this time in a small voice. "I want to stay with you." I looked pleadingly at my parents. "Please."

But my parents had made up their minds. I screamed as they hugged me, then walked out of the room. "MOMMY! DAD! Nooo!" But they never looked back.

"It's for the best, Phoenix." The man returned to my bedside. I watched as he pulled out a syringe filled with a clear liquid.

"No! No!" I tried to back away from the psychotic man, but he grabbed and twisted my injured arm, forcing me to keep still.

"Ahh!" I cried out in pain.

"This will be over soon." The man said, in what I think was supposed to be a soothing tone of voice. He prepped the syringe, and brought it to my arm.

The last thing that I remembered, was feeling a fire spread through my body. Then everything went black.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

PRESENT DAY: I sat on the bed in the treatment room and tried to calm my nerves.

It was like this every day; my prison mates and I were given a special serum that stopped our hearts for exactly five minutes, in which our minds traveled from us. Then, we were given the antidote that was meant to pull us back to life.

The doctors, or as they were known among the Lazarus agents and fledglings, the Saints, explained that this treatment would help prepare us for real field deaths.

To be honest, I couldn't wait to become an agent. Maybe I would finally get out of this place?

However, I would soon learn, that just like life, death also has its limits.