FicWad

Maybe if they'd continued their treatments for just a few minutes more, I would've been like the others. But that was before they realized that everybody requires different treatments instead of lumping everyone under one generic type. But by the time they realized their mistake, I had understood it as well and took the measures necessary to blend in. Anonymity was my best friend in this world. My guard could never be let down. I came to realize even when I thought I was, I wasn't ever truly alone. Even my thoughts were riddled with their ideas. With their beliefs. My brain was at constant war with itself.

It was so hard, leading this existence. But I managed. For years, I appeared normal to them. I was one of them. No one ever doubted who I was. No one ever suspected. And if I hadn't reacted to those pictures how I did, I may never have been caught. I may never have been put in a holding cell, awaiting my execution. But I don't regret anything. In fact, quite the contrary. I wouldn't change anything. I am proud to be dying for this reason. I am proud that I no longer have to remain anonymous. And I am proud that I will be able to die as myself.

I was in the first batch of experiments. I wasn't the first to be created, but I was in the first twenty. We were supposed to have been untainted, picked up when the war first started and not subjected to the enemies' propaganda. But their experiments didn't fully penetrate my subconscious. Not like the others. And that's how I ended up like this. A forsaken prisoner.

I am Draculoid 17. And when Better Living Industries brainwashed me, they missed something. They gave me the bloodlust and the stamina and the energy and the hatred. But they never took away my compassion. They never took my empathy. And that's what ended up being my salvation and my damnation. I am Draculoid 17 and because I still remain part human, they will exterminate me.