To
know who I am I had to first know who I was.
The first thing I recall was waking up in an all white room. On one wall was a mirror and in the far
corner was a file. I had been in the
room before, it was my cell. I knew why
I was locked up, but never who I was. My
captives always called me “The Raven,” but this file in the corner of my cell
told me that they were ready to share with me my identity, or someone was going
behind someone’s back.
I opened the file and read: Test
Subject 99 updated file, Coed Name: The Raven, Sex: Male, Age: 18, Race:
Caucasian, Hair Color: Dark brown, Eye Color: Silvery sky blue, Subject Name: Sky Havran, Ability: Flight.
The file contained my name, for the
first time in two years I finally had a name.
For two years I lived in a laboratory prison on the outskirts of
Russia. The Doctors had erased my memory
of my life before the laboratory prison.
They had told me that knowing the past would hold me from the
future. For the first month I was locked
up in white rooms filled with Doctors who injected me with a serum they called,
“Nurflügler,” that slowly took hold of my body and gave
me abilities I myself could not fully understand. It allowed me to create black wings that
sprouted from my back like black roses.
For the rest of the time my life in
the laboratory was spent speeding up my transformation. They would time me with how fast I could
sprout my wings. If I didn't sprout them
quick enough they beat me. They used
electro therapy to punish me if I back talked or didn't cooperate as they
wished. They also trained my body to
withstand saver beatings and speed up my healing ability. They would chain me up and just allow people
to beat me with metal sticks, zap me with cattle rods, at one point I remember
someone actually shot me. Several nights
I went to be covered in bruises and occasionally with a broken bone or
two. They never taught me hand to hand
combat, or how to defend myself. They
were afraid I would fight back, run a way, or both. I was a caged bird with more power than it
was aware of.
By the second year I learned the
organizations name, “The Institution of Dark Art Fusion.” It was run by two people. A man named Doctor Vsevold and his sister
Madam Dominika. Here they fused together
science with the dark art that Madam Dominika practiced, and I was one of their
little experiments. The only thing I was
unable to find out was why they were doing this.
The end of the second year was when
I found the file. The file containing my
lost identity. I also remember a woman
who started working for the institute, she didn't have a name; she only went by
“The Widow.” I remember her because
she’s the one who broke me out of the Institute. That night after I had read my file she came
to me. She told me she was an undercover
agent for a top secret organization in England.
The next thing I knew she had me by the hand was pulling me down the
halls at top speed. Kicking down anyone
who got in her way.
After we left the institute we made
base in a small town a few miles west near St. Peter’s Berg. At
first I was scared to trust the strange woman; I don’t think I will ever be
able to easily trust anyone after my experience in the institute, but the woman
reassured me that no harm would fall on me anymore. She said she was going to take me somewhere
safe. By ten o’ clock the next morning
we were on a plane heading to England.
We landed in a small town on the island Isle of Man. From there we went to Castle town.
Castle Town is where I was fully
brought up to speed on the situation.
The Widow introduced me to the organization built under the Parliament
and is unknown to the public. I was
brought into this organization for one purpose: to help bring an end to the
Institute. The Widow took me under her
wing and took care of me. For the next
year she trained me in ways the Institute failed to. She showed me how to fight; she showed me how
to use my gift instead of enhancing it, and she never beat me or hurt me.
After that she got me my own
place. Funded by the Organization and in
watching distance. It was a loft
Apartment close to everything in Castle Town.
To keep the organization a secret we used the cover that the apartment
was left to me in my dead grandmother’s will.
Along with the new place The Widow got me a job. Close to the apartment and still under the
watchful eye of the organization. I
worked in a book store, where I was finally able to read more than just science
journals. Here I could escape into the
cascades of imagination and spread my wings.
At the apartment I was able to
discover who I was. I found a passion
for drawing. Just sketches here and
there, but they were good and it made me happy.
I also discovered cooking. I must
admit at first I wasn’t really good at first, but the Widow helped me
learn. She was like the mother I never
had. After being taught the skill of
cooking I was able to create delicious meals.
But the hospitality of the
Organization wasn't over yet. They
funded my education and had enrolled me into a private university, the best
that money could buy. There I took the
cover of being a boy who had received a great inheritance. Not that it was far from the truth. The Organization had donated so much money to
me that I had a vault filled from floor to ceiling with money. The school was called Crown Jewel
Academy. Although the education was
great, my fellow peers weren't as much.
I was the awkward new kid at the school, despite my well built physique
I was picked last for any sport, and was shunned from over half the tables in
the cafeteria. At least I had a table
all to myself.
That was my life during the day, but
by night I fulfilled my duty to the Organization. I was an on call mercenary. Any activity involving the Institute required
me to go out and put a stop to it. I
took on the alias “The Raven,” letting the Institute know that their once proud
experiment was now their sworn enemy.
In one year alone I had killed almost fifty Institute agents, and interrogated
sixty, and thirty of them committed suicide instead of facing the wrath of the
Institute. They weren't known for taking
tattle telling kindly. Usually if they
found out one of their people had said something, they were already a dead man
before they could even plead for mercy.
This was my life. I constant cycle of work, house, school,
killing. Never ending. The only thing I looked forward to was the
academies biannual masquerade ball held in the fall and winter. In the spring and summer the students simply
created their own parties and would go on holiday for the long vacations. I never really participated in the spring
and summer parties, only the masquerades.
At the masquerades I could wear a mask, and was finally able to talk to
people without them knowing I was the awkward new kid. My life was like a two faced coin. On one side my awkward social day life, and
on the other my killing winged mercenary night life. Two worlds in one, but unknowing to each other.
