FicWad

Flix’s Story

It’s not that I am ashamed of what I do more that others either feel a need to pity me or to make me feel that I should be ashamed. What would they know of my life? Why is it that I am a dominant and why I put the utmost respect to my slave and to those around me? Quite simply because Permission is my last bastion of hope.

This is my personal story. You don’t have to understand; I don’t feel that I have to justify myself. To lay the matter to the heart of things, I am Felix Carter-Jones or Felicity should you meet her. I am the last experiment that Genesis produced. I was the only success of thirteen but that success in their eyes was a failure. Now I have to rely on scientists to keep me alive.

Red2 spoke of his story, he will tell anyone that when his parents were shot he stood at the gates of the Axiomatic and he hoped, like many, that he would be considered noticeable enough to be chosen. He was. To me he has and always will be the most amazing thing that entered my life.

I don’t remember too much about my toddler years. I know they liked to poke and prod. I probably had more CT scans and body mapping scans than your average ordinance survey map has gridlines but my parents were loving enough. I say parents; they brought me up at any rate. During the day I lived within the science labs where they could test me, monitor me and watch me grow up. When I was five I was placed full time in to the two scientists home.

I was given anything a child could ask for in terms of toys, clothes and as I grew closer to them they did to me. I was not aware of what I was for many years to come. One day I cam down the stairs with my teddy, I always wore light blue pajama’s and mum would spray them with something that made them smell like summer. I was watching as they came in the door. I was nine years old and I was really tired from school that day.

“Felix honey, come on.” Mum grabbed me and pulled me up in to her arms. I liked it when she did that. I’m never too old to be held or touched despite the attitude I might portray. “We’re going for a drive.”

“Do I need to get dressed mummy?” I had asked her but she shook her head. Something just felt so very wrong. I wished I could tell her now that I know she had wanted to protect me. My dad rushed out and tried to hurry us along. The car was still running in the driveway.

Dad ran over I heard his footsteps and then they stopped abruptly. I heard him fall and my mum screamed as his white lab coat was stained a deep red with blood. I panicked and wanted my mum to let me down to get to him. She pulled us both towards the back door. Men armoured like soldier were trying to surround us to protect us. Outside others shouted and screamed to hand the child over. I know they were talking about me.

My mother did not escape. I did. I slipped out of the back door and hid in the garden shed. Mum kept roses in there of all the colours I could have imagined at that age. The roses in our garden were always in summer bloom and smelled like fine perfumes. Me the teddy, a floppy eared rabbit, that I called Bear for some reason were hidden there for two days. I will admit that having been shoved around so many times it simply remained easier for me to build my own little world where flowers talked and my parents were real.

Two awful looking men dragged me out: who promptly yanked at me, they inspected my teeth and pulled my clothes around. I didn’t really understand what they wanted until I was hastily thrown in the back of a hopper van, they are like large removal vans but they hover not drive on wheels for those of you that don’t know my world so well. The van was taken to what I now know as the Axiomatic.

I liked the lights; the laser shows amazed me as soon as we stepped out. People and children at the fence barely even noticed the two men dragging me through and into the central plaza. The man that came face to face with me looked me up and down as I did the same to him.

He was a tall chap, then again I was nine, and he was round from too much fine living and no exercise of worth. I started off liking him, he brought me clothes, gave me a room and I rarely left it for the first month. In the room I had a datapool to watch cartoons and he let me pick any toys I wanted.

All I know him as is Mr S. I wonder if that that wasn’t a made up name but he was rotten to the core. Not like an apple, which theoretically you could recycle in someway, this guy was more like a cancer to all who touched him. He owned the Axiomatic and three months in to my new life the situation took a drastic and irreversible change.

He dragged me to his room and I won’t go over the details. I don’t discuss it with anyone but Red2 as he understands me. It was a night I shall never forget and now I understand the word rape it disgusts me. It took until Mr S was killed I was informed of the rights and wrongs.

As I got older things got worse, if that could even be believed. In essence I think he was ready to turn me in to another cheap john for the rest of the world to enjoy and of course my history would have remained hidden that way. He would be the one that knew what I truly was, a medical test-tube advance.

Near my thirteenth birthday it became obvious that things were not correct. I complained of stomach cramps, not just those inflicted by brutal men but also deeper than that, somewhere in the pit of my bowels. I was about to be thrown out to the dormitories when I passed out and the pain was incredible. At first Mr S believed I was putting this on in an attempt to garner a little longer in the comfort of my room but it was not so.

He discovered then that the Genesis program had not entirely been wasted. I was not just another human clone and I changed physical form. I swapped entirely from male to female. This process I learnt over a period of time caused my genes to be unstable. The change would occur without warning and with each change I got a step closer to death. Mr S finally realised that his young investment needed scientific injection.

It took him some time to find a doctor that could assess me and by then it was a case of re-mapping entire sections of my body. I worked with them patiently but Mr S was always abusive and his fat body turned from a fatherly portly figure to something I dreaded more and more. I was a toy in his view and not a good one for him as I was broken and he had no patience for the time it was taking to glue me back together.

I made friends with some people that were new arrivals when I turned fifteen. Anita was the strongest of them. She was a beautiful woman and she told me what the rights and wrongs were. It soon transpired I was mostly in the wrong side with Mr S and the more she told me the worse it felt. I was chained to a bed like a dog, fed when he said and watered.

When I heard the rumours that there were plans to have him killed I was not the good pet he thought he had trained me to be. I said nothing. I waited; I wanted them to do what they said. I was now sixteen years old, I knew so very much about the truth of the world. He was using me like a useless old toy which suited me fine, passed me around his friends and made me bitter. I waited so very patiently because he had the lawyers force me in to the will since I was legally supposedly his property.

I made a promise to myself and it was to wait until the fat bloated son of a bitch went. They made it happen. I am aware of it. They saved me, the girls that fought back. They took to his room when I was chained up against it one night. I had a bowl of water and my teddy. I was scared to close my eyes when they burst in but just as afraid to let them see me awake.

I never realised how dark human blood is and that it can really make a mess, like spilling a glass of juice or something you know? Water fits to the shape of it’s container and the room wasn’t small so it got liberated on walls, sheets, him, me and the attackers. They made a real mess of him with knifes and other weapons.

They left as soon as they came too and I didn’t shout for help. People always ask how you put up with such horrible things for so long but the answer is that sometimes you just do not know any different. Sometimes that’s all there is and all you feel there will be.

Two days later men came to remove him. For a while they thought I had done it but they saw the state of me. I hadn’t got the strength for that. I never could have that brutality in mind. No not for me at all. I made a resolution then to sort my life out for the better.

I would make my own palace with servants. I would make my world and in that world even the slaves would have choices. Permission

The last bastion of my hope.

Flix.