A loud clanging noise woke me from my deep sleep. I tried to move, to stretch the limbs that were numb from lack of use. I panicked when my hands and feet wouldn't move. Sweat rolled down my face. What’s going on? I thought frantically. I couldn’t remember. I tried to move again, unsuccessfully. I came to the conclusion that I was tied down somehow, ropes biting into my body as I tried to move. I opened my eyes, only to be greeted with darkness anyway.
I came to the conclusion that, considering I was tied down, I may have had a blindfold on as well. I shivered. I was definitely missing something over my body. It was cold in the room, and the sweat that was running down my body made me colder. Faint footsteps echoed off the floor, and I came to attention. They sounded rushed, as if someone had realized I had woken up.
“Now, now” the voice said. It was raspy, and sounded as if it should belong to an ugly old man. “What are you doing up?” He came closer.
The darkness seemed to lift from my vision, as the blindfold was taken off. I blinked a couple times, and almost recoiled in shock. The man next to me wasn’t an old, ugly man at all. He was maybe middle-aged, with slicked back brown hair. He didn’t look too bad. How could that voice belong to him? I shook my head, and he greeted me with a smirk.
“You look cold.” He said with the smirk still painted on his face. I looked down my body, and confirmed that I was naked, exposed completely to the man in front of me. I mock laughed at his joke.
“Very funny,” I said, a slight panic rising from within me. “Now untie me!” He shook his head.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that my dear...uh...” He paused. I knew that it was my cue to fill the gap, but I didn’t know my name either.
“I’m sorry, but I don't know my name sir” I said, looking away, feeling like an idiot.
Why didn’t I know anyway? Maybe I had amnesia. He let out a throaty chuckle.
“Then I guess we’ll have to give you a name won’t we?” He looked at the ceiling. “Hmmm...What about Grace?”
I rolled my eyes at the name, but knew that I was stuck with it. Remembering that I was strapped to a table, I cried out.
“What the fuck is going on here anyway?” I asked, somewhat scared of his answer. He smiled slyly.
“My name is Dr. Dylan Farrows,” he said. “And I’ve been using you for experiments Grace.” I felt a coldness creep into my body, one that wasn’t caused by my lack of clothing.
“Experiments?” I asked. He nodded.
“Grace,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “For the past few days, I have been working on mixing DNA. I have mixed the DNA of a fallen angel with your own DNA.”
I felt both confused and frightened. What did this mean for me? I felt completely normal. That’s when I noticed it. There was something digging into my back. It felt as if someone had placed something underneath me. To be more accurate, the pain came from my shoulders, at the back.
I tried to see what it was, but couldn’t move more than a couple millimetres. I clenched my fists. I gasped as my palm instantly went into pain, and started to bleed.
I looked at my hands. My nails, which would have usually been short, were long, and sharp. Now laughing, Dr. Farrows grabbed a full-length mirror and placed it beside the table I was strapped to. I gasped at my eyes, which were completely white, and moved my eyes along my reflection. That’s when I saw it. The reason for my pain, and why it felt kind of like I was on a feathery blanket. Underneath me, attached to my back, were big, white, angel wings.
