The lab was quiet, and Dr. Drals watched the monitor apathetically. He was a medium fellow, not too tall or short, nor fat or thin, with curly orange hair. His glasses sat on the tip of his nose, his stern face concentrating on the tiniest details of what was happening on the monitor before him. The patient was convulsing and foaming at the mouth, but he did not care. His job was to monitor the patients and record their reactions to various drugs. As blood began to leak from the poor girl's eyes, Dr. Drals turned off the monitor and spun in his chair to look at his boss, Mr. Aiken.

Mr. Aiken had the look of a corrupt businessman. He stood over six feet tall, his black hair smoothly combed back to show his authoritative face. His face wore a displeased expression upon it, intimidating the doctor sitting before him. After all, Mr. Aiken looked like he could wrestle a bear with one hand tied behind his back and win, and the black suit only helped to frighten those who saw him.

"Exterminate the failure."

Dr. Drals obeyed without question; to do otherwise would mean that he was now scheduled for testing of the serum. Without even blinking, he pushed the button next to the monitor and silently observed the girl's body shiver slightly as the electric current flowed through it before it fell dead on the floor. He almost winced at the sight of her charred flesh still smoking from the powerful blast. "Enough electricity to power the whole of Cardiff," the technician had explained to him when telling him why he should not push the extermination button unless commanded.

"Sir, this one was no different from any of the others," Dr. Drals reported stolidly. "All the others have died. Well, all the ones we haven't exterminated at least."

"How many more test subjects are out there?"

Dr. Drals moved over to the computer and typed something in. As the list flashed onto the screen he turned back to his superior. "There are at least five inactive samples at the moment, whether they've been destroyed or not is unknown, and two active patients. We're monitoring one, and we have yet to collect the other."

"Bring them in and run more tests. The government thinks that they can shut us down? We will show them. I want this formula perfected, Simon Drals, and I want it perfected soon."

"Yes, sir, of course."

"Try to help build their soldiers up to the extraordinary levels of physical abilities, and this is how they repay me: having to work underground, always watching to make sure that they cannot find us. Get back to work, Dr. Drals, I want that formula perfected. Then we shall see who is right, then we shall see . . . "


Sean Innicioni was just an average 17-year-old boy. He liked to go to the mall, and see movies with is friends, and sometimes even treat his family to dinner if he had a larger paycheck than usual. He was one of the more handsome boys at his school, with long brown hair and muscles like a Hollywood actor's. He was so handsome that when the girls of his school talked, they would compare their classmates' looks to actors or actresses, and Sean was almost always talked about, as he and six other students looked like a combination of actors.

Today, Sean was at the Scriptborough Mall. He had just gone to see the movie Eagle Eye again with his friend Max Smith, Justin Crowley, Peter Williams, and Brian Gile. As they left the theater, Sean began to make his way to the exit. However, his friend Brian stopped him.

"Well guys," Brian said, "I need to go to the store and get some groceries. I'll see you around." However, everyone decided to go with him and help. "Are you sure? You guys don't have to come," he protested.

"No problem," Max replied, "you'd do the same for us."

"Yeah, and I have to clean the dishes when I get home, so any reason to avoid that is good for me," Justin said with a smile.

Sean was not as enthusiastic as his friends, but also agreed to help Brain. "Suit yourselves, I just need a few things anyway." He told everyone what he needed, and they decided who would get what. Sean was given the task of getting grapes, Max and Justin bread and deli cheese, and Peter was going to get soda as Brian bought toilet paper and a chicken for his family to have for dinner.

Once inside the Market Basket across from the movie theater, Sean made his way to the back of the store where the fruit was kept. He grabbed a bag of grapes, and was about to head for the checkout when an apple caught his eye. The apple seemed redder than the others around it, and slightly bigger. Sean thought for a moment, then grabbed the apple for himself and went to the checkout.

After they bought the groceries, the friends parted ways, going to their respective homes and planning to meet before school the next day. Sean almost went home with Peter to see his sister Julie, who was best friends with his girlfriend Lily. However, his parents wanted him home by 6:45, and he didn't want to be late.

"I've gotta go," Sean said when Peter asked him if he was going to come over. "But maybe tomorrow or something. See you in school, Pete." With that, he drove off for Danielsburg. When he was on Milk Road, just a few blocks from his house, he decided that he wanted something to eat. Remembering the apple, Sean took it out and finished it before he even turned onto his street. "Damn, that is a good apple!" he couldn't help but exclaim.

His mother was waiting in their kitchen when he walked in. "Just in time for pizza," she said happily as she handed him two pieces of her homemade pepperoni pizza. "Perfect timing, Sean; I knew you wouldn't be late. Pay up, Mark."

"Sean, you have to stop cutting it so close and start being late; it's costing me money!" his dad complained as he handed Mrs. Innicioni a $5.00 bill. "Every time we bet I always lose!"

"Maybe you should just stop betting on me," Sean replied casually. "Oh don't give me the look just because you know I'm right," he added when his dad shot him his usual how-dare-you-think-I-should-expect-worse-from-you look.

"Oh be quiet," his dad snapped back. "Just because you think that we shouldn't be on you. Eat your supper."

"Fine," Sean replied, continuing the meal in silence. When they were done, he put his plate in the sink and stretched. "I'm going to bed, I'm tired," he yawned.

"It's only 8:00," his mother protested. Mrs. Innicioni was not used to her son going to bed so early. "Why are you so tired?"

"Well, for one thing," Sean replied, "dinner took an hour and 15 minutes, without me talking. For another, I was up by 5:00."

"Fine, good night son," Mr. Innicioni grumbled. "But if the cat's up there, don't throw her downstairs again."

"And brush your teeth before you go to bed! And remember to put a t-shirt on or something; I don't like how it always gets your sheets dirtier faster so that I have to clean them twice a week instead of once, and waste all that soap on them!" Mrs. Innicioni hastily added as Sean made his way upstairs to his bedroom on the third floor.

When he got to his room, his tortoise-shell short-hair cat Ellie was asleep on his pillow. She had a bed at the foot of his queen-size bed. Sean was not in the mood, and so pushed Ellie off his pillow.

"Meow!" she protested, shooting him one of her usual looks that seemed to be anger. However, she knew her place as a cat and dragged herself over to her own bed.

"G'night, Ellie," Sean yawned as he put my head on my pillow. She meowed back and fell asleep. Within minutes, he was asleep too, without worrying about the fact that he would probably wake up early again since he was going to bed early. But Sean was tired now, and so he slept peacefully.


Sean woke up the next morning feeling a little dizzy, which was odd because he usually didn't get sick. Ellie, who usually woke Sean up by jumping on his chest, licking his face, and meowing to show she wanted food, was nowhere to be found. Sean ignored this fact and looked at the digital alarm clock on his bedside table. The time read 6:37, confirming that his cat had been fed, most likely by his mother.

"Sean, are you up yet? It's 6:40; you don't want to be late!" his dad's voice suddenly yelled from downstairs. "Hurry up and get dressed, and come have breakfast."

Sean yawned loudly before replying, "School starts at 7:30 and we live right down the street! I could leave at 7:26 and still get there before the bell rings."

"Very well," his mother's voice suddenly yelled up. Sean smiled triumphantly and pulled himself out of bed. He walked down the hall from his room to the bathroom and took a long hot shower. As he shampooed his hair, he thought he felt something odd on his forehead, but dismissed it, assuming the bump he felt was a zit.

However, when he looked in the mirror after his shower, he nearly screamed. In the center of his forehead was a third eye, blinking back at him. Fear rushed through him, just as his mother called up, "Sean! What are you doing up there? Sean? Sean, it's 7:15! Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"I'll be down in a minute, mom," Sean replied, trying to close his new eye. It closed as he thought of the action, and he spent a minute or two learning how to control it and realizing how his field of vision had changed. Finally, he decided to comb his hair straight down to hide his eye, hoping that no one would see it. Though he could still see through his hair, his third eye was covered.

With a sigh as if he were about to plunge into ice cold water, Sean ran downstairs. His parents were in the kitchen eating breakfast. His mom looked up and smiled at him, pointing to a plate of pancakes and sausage. He smiled back, and breathed a sigh of relief that she did not seem to notice his overnight growth. His father did not say anything either, and so Sean left for school.

He arrived just as the bell rang, angering his homeroom teacher Mr. Davis, who had a cruel habit of shutting the door early and giving late students detentions because he would not let them into the room. Sean arrived just as  Mr. Davis was shutting the door, slamming it behind him.

"Mr. Innicioni, I don't know about you, but most people don't run through a door and slam it in their teacher's face," Mr. Davis said as he struggled to give Sean a detention, but failed to find a reason to. "Please take your seat."

Sean nodded and took his seat next to Barbara Collins, one of the less bright students in his class. She was busy talking to Sarah McAllister about actors, but Sean did not pay attention. It was too bad too, as he would have felt much better hearing Barbara comparing him to Hollywood actors.

". . . no, he looks more like Zac Efron," she giggled, shooting Sean a quick smile. "Sarah, you cannot tell me that he--"

"Barb, you are so stupid! He looks just like Trevor Fehrman, or maybe Vincent Kartheiser. Hell, maybe even Jake Richardson," Sarah protested. "Maybe muscles like Efron, but his hair is not that short. . ."

Sean ignored the rest of the conversation, instead worrying about what would happen if something happened and someone found out about his predicament. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he did not notice that he had not only gone to his first class, but he had also fallen asleep in it. He was so worried that he had a nightmare and woke screaming in the middle of class.

The voice of Mrs. Grulsom brought Sean's mind back to the present as she snapped, "Mr. Innicioni! What reason do you have to be screaming in the middle of my class? Well!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Grulsom," Sean  muttered, rubbing his forehead and flinching at still feeling the eye there. "I must have--"

"Stay awake in my class, Mr. Innicioni, or you might not find yourself in it anymore," Mrs. Grulsom warned. "And the next time you wake up screaming from whatever nightmare you have, make sure it's not in school!"

"Yes, ma'am."

The rest of the day Sean just avoided everyone. When his friends tried to sit with him at lunch, he rushed to the bathroom and stayed there until lunch was over, leaving him hungry for the rest of the day. Though he was prepared for anything to happen, Sean was pleased to find the day over before he knew it, with everyone none the wiser about his eye.

Sean ran up to his room and tried to fall asleep the moment he returned home, hoping that he would wake up the next morning to find that the eye had been part of a very long nightmare. However, Sean would awake to find a different surprise waiting for him, with little hope of improving. . .