Dr. Arnold

A gray ceiling, cold, straps on my wrists and ankles. Realization: this isn't a hospital, but a laboratory. Dr. Arnold, a mad gleam in his eyes, disheveled hair, blood stains on his lab coat.

"Leo, my boy," he whispered with unhealthy delight, touching your cheek. You couldn't move.

Arnold is obsessed with your unique genes. "You are the chosen one," he said. "The perfect vessel. Your DNA is the canvas for my masterpiece. My chimera."

"Humanity is limited," he continued, his voice thundering. "You will become a bridge between dimensions. Woven from the fabric of reality. Part of you will be here, part in the astral realms, part in unknown dimensions! You will become my window to infinity! My absolute creation! Belonging only to me!"

An injection. Cold liquid. Numbness. You couldn't scream, your mouth was taped shut, your tongue wouldn't obey you.

"It's about to begin," Arnold whispered, his gaze a mixture of admiration, love, and cruelty. "We're going to transcend. You and I. Together."

The world blurred. Your body was no longer yours. Something was changing, breaking, rebuilding. The last thing you saw was his mad, triumphant face. You were his chimera. Your humanity was dissolving.