personage

He could remember being born. THe sensation of floating, warm and safe in the womb and the sudden glare of light and sound. The air, though warmed for his arrival still fetl cold to hiis thin skin.
Behind him he could here the cries of what he understood had been his mother. She was crying to hold him, just once and her voice was raw and filled with anguish. This was something promised to her, now being denied.
He craned his tiny neck to see her and managed one quick glance at the woman who had let him grow inside her. Her hair was disheveled, long and spread around her like thick strands of silk. Her legs were still up in the air, although someone had taken the time to cover her.
A nurse approached with something long and sharp wuickly plunging it into her arm. Her cries immediately subsided and the strong hands holding him turned him away from the scene of his birth.
"I told you the vessel would be a problem", said the Good Doctor.
"Every mother wants to hold their child", said another voice, a softer voice that the newbprn would come to love, while he would despise the voice of the Godd Doctor.
"She is not his mother", the Good Dcctor snapped.
Already his amazing mind was picking up the thread of the conversation, rfecognizing words he had been taught while in the womb. He came to understand at five minutes thirteen seconds, that the woman he would havve called mother had only been a vessel for his growth.
He would have many mothers and many fathers, all of them there to teach him. And how he would learn. The result of the culmination of the genetic science, a child created to save the world, to be the stand in for the son God had decided it seemed not to send a second time.
Maybe being nailed to a tree was once enough for any parent to let their child endure. Even God.
No problem, thought the great minds of man, the Christian Fundamentalists are sreaming for the messiah we can create one.
The Good Doctor took the infnant in his latex gloved hands, only is eyes visible above the mask he wore. But the eyes were enough. They were alive and full of malevolence and pride. The child understood then and there that the Good Doctor thought of himself as his father and mother. He had been the one to map the genetic code, he was the head of the God project. And at last it had some to fruition.
The child let out his first wail of disaproval.
Beneathe the mebrane of the mask, the good doctors lips moved into a semnlance of a smile
"Perfect", he said.

zaac

oooh i want to see where this goes. i like this a lot

zaac

butchiesmom

I like this story and intend to follow up with the second part! I've made some suggestions in bold.

Gail