Project RTIFICIAL 3

Subject: Silvester Kim

Christine Kim had been a charwoman in the Seam Local Hospital for the past five years. That day when she was about to give birth, and no institution would accept her, the local hospital gave her shelter until she recovered.

She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, who he named Silvester. Christine was broke and her jobless husband often leave her at home to starve. He was a big gambler. Loan sharks would circle their house every day, looking for different ways to beat her husband to pay his debts. If Christine hadn't been pregnant, she could've been living a different life, away from her futile spouse.

Somehow, Christine viewed her unborn child as a connecting curse to her husband, whom she could've dumped a long time ago if not for the growing life in her stomach.

Not until Silvester was brought into the world.

Raising the kid was not easy, but she managed with the help of the local hospital. She was given a charwoman job in return for the hospital charging her free for her childbearing. An angel in the name of Grace Lin, the head doctor at the Seam Local Hospital, helped her throughout her recovery and getting a job to support her child.

That didn't come without a cost. Not when Doctor Grace Lin was involved.

"Chris."

The doctor called on her. She was carrying two cans of coffee, motioning her to sit on the bleachers in the staff room. She must've prepared for this conversation, considering that she went out of her way to visit the staff station and freed her afternoon schedule.

"Here."

Christine sat at an awkward distance from the doctor, feeling the coldness from the coffee run down her calloused palms. She had always been intimidated by the doctor. For one, professionals have that air that makes an ordinary person like her feel small. Not that they intended to, but it's become an inevitable feeling, especially since she didn't finish her studies.

She knows by the look on Grace's face that everything she receives from her must be reciprocated, one way or another. It didn't occur to her that the day Grace asks for the return on investment is the same day she'll lose her child to this monster.

"I've been receiving calls in my office."

Her tone boasts irritation and question. The loan sharks have already penetrated the phone lines in the hospital, looking for Christine. At first, the staff is considerate enough to ward them off until they come to do damage to the facility. This time, the management is not having any of it.

Dr. Grace would be pressed to fire her, but she had a greater plan. She stood from the creaking bleacher, towered over Christine, and smirked. There seems to be no refusal when it comes to Dr. Grace. She always gets her wants through an orchestrated strategy that fools the innocent.

The woman sat on her toes in front of her, her heels draining blood from her feet, making every finger shout with pain. She placed a hand under her chin, anchored her head to one side while resting her elbow on the folded knee, and waited knowingly for an answer, an unconscious behavior she shares with his son Vegas.

"What do you say, Chris?"

She knows where this is going. The same reason she's avoiding this conversion for a long while now. Yet she can't escape the doctor's grip after everything she's done for Silvester.

Silvester was a blossoming child, a kid with great potential in the field of science. Apart from sending him to a prestige school, all expenses paid, Dr. Grace also pays for their shelter and provides everything Silvester needs that her small salary can't buy.

"I don't know about everything but please, Doctor Grace, not my son. I can't watch him change like that."

Her throat is dry, and her voice hoarse. The pounding on her chest was so extreme it produced bids of sweat all over her battered body. She heard herself plead but knew no way out. Soon she'll have to give Silvester to Dr. Grace.

Christine hadn't thought that soon would be too early as her son's fifth birthday, the day that marks their eternal misery.

"What are you afraid of, Chris? Silvester is a great kid and will be a breakthrough in this experiment. Wait until you see your son top all the science geeks in town. Don't you want it? Fame and money? I thought that's mostly your concern with these goons."

Mockery was discernable in her articulation. But there was no doubting that she'd been hungry to get her hands on Silvester the moment he was born. Brilliant or not, it has been pre-destined that Silvester would be a subject to her crazy scientific madness. And to alter one's personality and body is her ultimate goal.

Grace stood from her toes, the folds on her pants unwrinkling on their own, as she headed for the door. Facing half east, eyes not really looking at her, she announced,

"Ten days. Silvester's mine after ten days."

Then she shut the door behind her, leaving the woman distraught, the can of coffee almost bursting out from her forceful grip.

* * *

"V, you should eat plenty every day, okay? I'll be gone for a while to take care of your pops. But I'll come back after a few days. Meet me at the hospital, huh? Be a good boy to Dr. Grace."

She stroked her son's hair while trying her best to filter the sob that was about to escape her mouth at any minute. This is their last meal together before she turns her son over to that witch. Only God knows what would happen in the four corners of that laboratory.

Silvester was a smart kid. It was not new to him that his sponsor was a renowned doctor with alteration madness. Being the clever kid he is, he was quick-witted to realize that something was hidden on the hospital's top floor. One time he accompanied his mom to bring some snacks there.

While his mom laid the plates on the table, he snuck out of the room and went east, entering double steel doors of what looked like human capsules arranged in columns of three. Each of the first capsules on the column was labeled R1, R2, and R3, with dates and other data he couldn't quite decipher.

Intense light flashed through the room, illuminating steel beds with chains on both legs, long enough to cover an arm's length of movement. He focused his sight on the two single beds situated at the far end of the room, which appeared to be occupied. Two small bodies lay lifeless on each bed, with monitors beeping every thirty-second intervals and oxygen tanks that seemed to be unused.

These two boys were someone new to him. Considering the time he spent at the hospital while he waited for his mom's shift to end, he had memorized every single kid and adult staying in the health center. Not that he cared, but his brain just plainly registers them with one sight.

But these two are new faces, probably the same age as him.

"It's fun here, you know."

A gentle voice enticed him to stay longer. She had been watching him trespass this laboratory as if delighted that he found his way to this place.

Silvester knows this voice by heart. Every time he hears her call, shivers run down his spine. She's like a ghost, always looking at him, surprising him at the most random moments. And even though he's young, he'd known to not mess with this woman, to avoid her at all cost.

He ran straight for the door. A few steps left to the exit, his eyes caught a gleaming sign on one of the medicine bottles hidden behind a pile of papers. RTIFICIAL 1, it says.

Being the brilliant kid, he made a mental note to look that up, which leads to him knowing exactly why he's dressed clean for Sunday mass, yet their destination is different.

Silvester is a kid, a brilliant one. He knows his way out in most situations, but this is extremely different. Yet the anticipation of what more he'll find out about Dr. Grace's psycho experiment thrilled him. In his heart, he had made himself a sacrifice to help those two little kids or more who were trapped in the laboratory room.

He wouldn't go under the table without a fight, he told himself. His mom was irrepressibly silencing her sobs. The helplessness in his mother's eyes is pricking every hair on his body, enraging him.

At a young age, he had learned to fight. He fights physical pain with intelligence, something Dr. Grace was unaware of.

"Mom. Don't worry too much. I can handle this. See you in a few days."

He planted a warm kiss on his mom's hand, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door. Not once did he ever look back or wait for his mom to chase after him.

Christine just can't do it. She cannot deliver his son to a place that guarantees either insanity or death. Yet there was a little hope in her heart that this little kid could find the way out like he always does.

"Live through it, my son. I am sorry for everything. I don't deserve to be your mother."

Christine was left whimpering as the sounds of a honk echoed through the house, indicating that Silvester was already taken for a ride to the laboratory.