Chapter 1:

 

Doctor Marcus Brandon walked down the halls of the main building. He glanced at the time, there was about an hour before their distinguished visitors arrived. He wiped salt sweat off of his face; this visit would determine the future of the Project. And his personal future as well. Not that he had one in the first place. Although there was many doubts were still abounding on the Council, Marcus was sure that nothing would go wrong. Obviously he never heard of Murphy’s Law.

 

“Excuse me Doctor Brandon.” A lab technician in a clown’s suit came up from behind him, carrying a clipboard. “You asked for the readouts on Number 3’s stats.” She handed the clipboard to him.

 

Marcus looked at the clipboard absentmindedly. “Are the units awake yet?”

 

“Yes, Administrator Maximus is already there.” She paused. “Will there be anything else?” She held up a creme pie in anticipation.

 

“Uh.. No thank you.” Marcus walked down the hall towards the restricted labs. Only idiots and cockroaches had the access codes. He wanted to check up on the units, just in case. The game is set, and … a few pieces are missing.

 

Meanwhile in a high security level room, a young human male paced back and forth in his room. Well, he looked human, but so does Pee-Wee Herman. A bunch of scientists and personal stared at him from behind a mirror glass window. Or they could be admiring their reflections. Angel glared at the mirror window. He couldn’t see the observers but he could sense them, smell them. Technicians weren’t allowed outside the building. So they usually smelled bad and they lost their minds around the second month.  Two vampires and three humans would not much of a problem. But the tension in the technicians and the guards was palpable. They were worried about something. They all forgot to place their bets on the Women’s World Cup.  Add in the fact that the head administrator placed a bet on China and lost, there was a problem. 

 

Angel forced himself to calm down when he thought about Maximus. He had to keep up the charade for all of their sakes. But it was difficult to be civilized to the vampire that had you killed and cloned. Visualizing evisicating and lynching the vampire didn’t help. But it worked so far, Maximus was still around. But not for long.

 

He paced back and forth in his living quarters. Angel hated the place. Think of a padded cell with furniture. There wasn’t even a television. Can you say ‘cruel and unusual torture’? It was strictly utilitarian, consisting of a bed, a bureau, a desk, and a bookcase. At least there was an abundance of books available. He glanced over the full bookshelves; there was everything from Stephen King to John Steinbeck. But his true work was elsewhere.  There was a different stack of books on the bureau, Assassination Tactics and Training, How to Speak Russian in One Week, Nuclear Theories, and a bunch of other books. Hidden under all of these was Ranma ½ Vol. 1 and Bubblegum Crisis.  Angel was a big anime fan. The only machine in the room was a small CD player, complete with a radio and tape player. The computer was turned off; access to the mainframe was restricted by the orders of the idiots running the place.

 

Angel heard boots walking down the corridor and doors opening. He sighed and waited for them to get to his cell. He hoped the others would be in a better mood today. 

 

Two guards, completely armed with AK-47s, lead him down the hall to the training room. They left him as he entered the brightly lit room. Already Nyx and Lilith were there.

 

Nyx was a quiet brown-haired, brown-eyed man, who happened to be a demolition expert and an expert computer hacker. (In his more lucid moments) Although his soft French accent was more like Angel’s, he was way different. His fighting skills were adequate, for taking on a young vampire. If the vampire was already decapitated and decomposing.  And he wouldn’t last long against Angel or Lilith.

 

Occasionally a fit of insanity or sanity, depending how you looked at hit, would cause him to act strangely. It was during these times he composed several sonatas but later on never recognized them. He thought that it was a recipe for making corn bread. Don’t ask how it tasted. Except it was worse than Akane Tendo’s cooking.

 

 Angel knew who Nyx once was: Nicolas Le’Efant, a fledgling of Lestat’s. Nicolas had been a great musician but he was also crazy. Angel also knew that it was the original memories reasserting themselves. It got worst in dreams. Only if you found yourself eating rats. Angel still didn’t know how Louis did it.

 

Another problem with the project of cloning is that each of them looked exactly like the original, Nyx looked like Nicolas, Lilith looked like whoever she was, and Angel looked like Louis de Pointe du Lac. Not that looking like Louis is a bad thing.

 

 Lilith was a seductive temptress like her demonic namesake. She just had better taste in clothes. Her black hair cascaded down her back in black silky waves. Her ice blue eyes froze most people in their tracks, and her assassin skills would take care of the rest. She was one of the most powerful of them (which didn’t say much because there were only three), capable of Phasing (Turning temporarily into a vampire) for an hour. Angel was her only rival. Angel had no idea who she was before or if she actually volunteered for the experiment, and he had no thought about getting to know her. She was evil, plain and simple. She reminded him of a certain blond vampire who never took no as an answer.

 

Angel knew what his profile read: black-haired, green-eyed. Cold assassin and expert martial artist. The only one in the Project with natural psionic powers and the only one capable of staying in Phase for a whole night. And he was the one that scared them the most. Being a pyromaniac is kind of scary to a vampire. But he loved the warm touch and caresses of bright yellow orange flames…and...”

 

“Hey Angel,” Nyx shifted onto his left foot. “You want to practice some speed training. Lil only wants to practice weapons training.” Nyx was not one for using weapons, he preferred using a computer or a bomb. Or a rubber chicken. Or a violin.

 

“Sure, set the levels at 10 and we’ll work our way up from there.” Angel walked over to the mat. Nyx tossed a monitor at him. He attached it to the back of his head; it was to monitor his physical condition. Then Angel picked up a katana from the rack and waited for Nyx to get ready.

 

Nyx faced his opponent carefully. Although speed training meant no killing, he would have to keep up the stamina to keep up with Angel. He held his sword in the ready position, Angel mimicked the position. Then the fight began.

 

Maximus watched the two fight with a mixture of pride and fear. Watching them was like watching an intricate dance. The obvious skill and grace of the fighters would have impressed any martial arts instructor. Although Nyx was not exactly a good fighter, he had the fastest speed. As an old man once said, “A musician has the most skillful hands.” True, Nyx was an excellent hand-to-hand combatant but not good in a brawl or all out fight. But Angel had the skills of a good fighter and of a good assassin.

 

Angel frightened him, to say the least. (It had to do with a certain angry vampire who vowed to kill him and to eat his innards) The second prototype of the series, and the oldest of the surviving assassins. He was part of Gen-2, the smart ones. (He could spell his name!); it was suspected that remnants of host memories still remained. Unfortunately only one survived the first Phase: Angel, who wasn’t giving any information. (But he had a great recipe for chicken noodle soup) Another problem of the Gen-2s was that the mind control units were not very good and gave limited control over the subject. (What control?) Only direct commands would work and sometimes, it didn’t work. (The scientists didn’t know that they were being humored. Its not like Lilith, Nyx, or Angel had anything else to do) They couldn’t upgrade the mind control without killing the subject. (The subject might die laughing)

 

And Angel was an essential part of the Project. (Who else knew all cheat codes on Ultimate Mortal Combat 3?) Most of all, the host DNA carrier of Angel had been a nuisance, constantly trying to escape and to defy the project. (Trying to kill himself and anyone else. Singing that annoying Pokemon song for two months straight. It was the last straw, barbecued vampire.)The host was a puzzle of unknowns, from the psionic powers to the constant defiance. Not to mention a remarkable singing voice and an amazing tolerance to pain. He never revealed where he hid the treasure of the almighty Poo Baa of Lunacy. (Which consisted of two cracker jack boxed and a pack of Alpha Magic cards)  So it was remarkable how Angel turned out. (Really?)

 

He noticed Lilith watching the two combatants with a malicious smile on her face. She was a cold-blooded killer with a passionate lust for Angel (So did half the staff and guards), who was oblivious to her overtures. (And to everyone else’s) It would have been interesting to see what kind of offspring they could have (The author has lost her mind), but Angel flat out refused to sleep with Lilith. (Actually he thought about it for .4 seconds before vomiting) He vaguely recalled that Lilith had been furious about it. (He ruined her favorite dress)

 

He glanced at the time, it was almost time. (For his medication) Then the intercom buzzed. He pushed the button. “Yes.”

 

“This is Doctor Caine, the Council has arrived.”

 

A feeling of cold ice hit his stomach and he sighed. “I’ll be right there.” He left the observation booth and walked towards the elevator. (A very lovely elevator indeed) Then Marcus raced in carrying a clipboard and looking frantic. (Nothing new)

 

“Sir, I must strongly suggest that we wait until the next series of tests are performed.”  (The vampire lost the staring contest to Nyx)

 

Maximus glared at the mortal next to him. If not for his expertise in cloning and genetic engineering, he would be dinner, literally. (But Marcus had been diagnosed with a blood disease that caused insanity to anyone who drank his blood) He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “There is no time, they are here.”

 

“But..” Pleas fell on deaf ears as the elevator door opened