The other day, a gust of wind blew a strange piece of paper to my feet. It was crumpled, and felt a bit waxy. The words were strange, not in any kind of printed font I had ever seen before. However, it was all intact, except for the very end, where it seems to have been burnt a bit, perhaps a quarter inch from the bottom. It appears to be a story. This is what it says:

Things were never supposed to turn out like this. I was supposed to be the most amazing thing to ever hit the lab table. Truly. I would have made waves in Time, in Newsweek, I would have revolutionized the entired world. But they failed! Those fools! Look at me! LOOK AT ME! There is no hope for me now…All of my limbs are gangrenousblackened by deadened skin cells screaming for release. My body is a frail patchwork of sinew and hollowed bone. The wings they gave me are little more that pieces of draped gossamer. And for what? For what I ask? Am I the next evolution? NO…for men were not meant to as birds, as angels. I am not even a man! I am a monstrosity! I am little more than a crude rendering of someone’s twisted nightmare…the only thing I have left is my mind.

I should have known something was wrong the minute the doctors started conferring in mere whispers and behind closed doors. They would render me unconscious before the treatments. They told ever since I was a child that I was born to be special. That I was unique, and the things I did would help all of mankind! That power and fame would be mine to grasp, that nothing would be out of my reach! Why, even the skies would render me their service! However, what I got was no gift. Everything they gave me was a curse. Even the abilities within my own mind sap the little reserves of strength I have left. I only hope that I have enough energy to do what I must…The pain everyday is enormous. I do not know how much longer I have. They see that they have failed…I have heard talks of terminationthey are fearful of me...They worry of strange new diseases infecting them. They fear me. Some hope that perhaps I can be saved…but I think they are losing the battle. The only thing they will save is my mind, in a lab somewhere, to be dissected and studied. But they will not have it! I will kill them all long before that happens!

…As it is, I am attempting to project my story via projected thermography, and so if you are reading this, someone must have found it and published it…or put it wherever it is your eyes can view it.

I will crush the hearts of every scientist here, I can FEEL them beating like a small Congo drum inside each and every chest…I will crush them as if they were mere grapefruits under the driving force of a jackhammer. Nothing here can withstand my mind.

I don’t even know what else I can do with myself. I know I can kill. Oh, they made sure of that. They wanted to be sure I could kill in plenty of ways. But they thought that after all the mental conditioning they put me through that I’d not be able to kill any of them, those foolish men and women that worship their gods of science. I worship nothing, and so here I languish. If I do not die from these ghastly mutations after they are all dead, I will end my life with my own hands. I will stand this suffering no longer. I will burn this facility. The fireproof cabinets are not safe from me. I will burn them from the inside out. I will light the corpses by the very research that they toiled many nights to gain! Justice! This is what I seek…The time is coming near….they are becoming suspicious of me…no matter. In the end, the one that can crush hearts in the fist of his mind shall conquer.

If you find this…tell the world. Please. Do no let me go unremembered. I wish I were not this way. I am. I ask for forgiveness from any soul who reads this….

And it ended right there. There were some smudges after the final words, but I can’t make them out. I can only wonder where it came from, and what it could mean…

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