Afterborn
The Conflicting Soul

By Benjamin Kerr


Prologue

The first sensation he ever felt was a sharp shock through his body, causing him to jerk where he laid. He could then feel the tingling of the alchemical solutions running through his veins, like electricity, but it did not burn. His body was warm from the electric shock that ran through his system. His lungs hesitated for a moment, before drawing his first breath of the stangent air around him. Then the sounds flooded his ears, everything blending together into one disjointed symphony. His eyes slowly opened, his veiw blurred into an unrecognisable mess. As his ears began to differentiate between the different sounds, he heard a couple of voices speaking over the low hum of the machinery.

"It seems that last bolt was enough to start his systems," spoke an aged voice.

"It had better, after all the time and effort that was put into this." spoke a second, much younger sounding voice, "Your little creation had better prove to be more than just some over glorified zombie."

His eyes began to adjust, the images sharpening. The first he saw was the steel tesla coil directly above him, the light of the room reflecting from its smooth surface, the last of electrical energy arcing along it before disappearing. His eyes then slowly shifted to the two figures standing over him, speaking over him as if they hadn't noticed he was awake. The figure to his right was a relatively aged gentleman, snow white hair cut short, his face lined with the years, but his electric blue eyes seemed like those of the youth. His thin figure was clad in a white coat, dirtied by numerous experiments. His hands, clad in black gloves, oddly enough seemed to be the cleanest part of his clothing, the black rubber gleaming in the light like new. The second figure was unidentifiable. Not because of his sight, but because his body was covered in cloaks and scarfs, in many shades of purple, green and ash. However, he could see a pair of sharp yellow eyes from underneath the brim of his tall black steeple hat. The elder man looked at the cloaked figure in shock and offense.

"Over glorified zombie!? This is no simple undead! This is a work of art! Stronger, faster, more durable, my creation can run rings around your simple animations!"

"We shall see Doctor," the cloaked man replied calmly, "But don't forget, your creation wouldn't be without my contribution."

It was at that point that he finally spoke. He had been silent this entire time, his voice soft and trembling, as if his throat was unsure how to speak.

"Where...?"

With that one word, the conversation between the two men fell silent, their eyes immediately falling onto him, as if they just noticed him for the first time. The scientist's face was a picture of amazement, while the surprise was less prevailent, but definately there, in the cloaked man's eyes.

"He...He can speak!?" the scientist leaned in, his eyes wide, and his lips stretching into a pleasant smile. The cloaked figure remained in place, staring down at him.

"Well," he spoke, a small hint of impression in his voice, "It seems your creation is worth some interest after all."

The scientist ignored him, immediately reaching underneath his body, "Come, let me help you up." His body seemed resistant at first before slowly moving, before finally sitting up on the steel table he had been laying. He could now get a good look at the room around him. Through strands of red hair, his eyes scoped out the room. Completely round, the walls and floor were built of dark stone blocks, the ceiling reaching up into the darkness. Machines and devices of unsual design and unknown intent, some giving a light glow that seemed almost unearthly. Numerous wooden work benches covered with loose pages and projects, lined the walls. A couple of oil lamps placed around the room provided the space with its dim illumination. The machines gave a low hum, in an almost soothing tone. Through an iron barred window, he could see the dark rolling clouds of the storm outside, occasionally lit up by an arc of lighting, and producing the low growl of thunder.

"Where...?" he repeated, partially to question, and partially to condition his mouth and throat to speech.

"I will explain in due time my boy," the scientist replied, pulling a small snort from the cloaked figure and replying with a sharp glare, "How do you feel?"

He was quiet for a moment, mismatched eyes taking in more of his surroundings before finally looking down onto himself. A pair of simple brown pants was all that covered him, leaving much of his body exposed. Throughout his body, he could see numerous seams over his flesh, acting as borders to the uneven colours of skin covering his body. However, just by looking at them, he could tell that these stitches were not just skin deep. He could feel these connections throughout his entire being, holding his body together from head to toe.

"What...am I?" he murmured, his mouth slowly becoming used to speaking as his eyes turned to the scientist before him. The cloaked figure had moved to the back of the room, but still watched the exchange between the two.

"You..." the scientist trailed off as he fell into his thoughts, trying to pick what to say carefully, knowing how much his choice of words would effect his new creation. That single moment seemed to stretch into eternity before a smile spread across his old face, looking into his expectant eyes, like a caring father speaking to his child, "You, are Abel, and you are my greatest creation."

His greatest creation. Those words would remain with Abel for the year to come.