We don't know what to make of the Bondite containment pod, and its seals, but we solve the locks. I am alone in a square room lightened for recording, whether favor is on my side or today will be my last. I feel an incredible amount of guilt doing what I must away from my daughters. I promise myself an early gift if events are successful and book a date to visit them.
The video begins recording...
Video: "Hello. I am Dr. Xander Lefitz Odar. It is February 2, 2017." Xander turns to read his watch. "Exactly 1:38 a.m. After much deliberation with my fellow workman," he slides the camera to a blonde pixie haired woman in the left corner. Danny is dressed casual in blue jeans and a white tank top. The only indication she is helping lies in her hands. A single glove and a notepad.
Nothing has been written yet, but she is prepared to work hastily and or shoot Xander if things go badly. A shotgun is hung on a wall to her right and she has sworn to kill before the worst occurs.
Danny has killed hundreds in her lifetime, but she considers Xander a friend, and to see life flare from his brown eyes-it's too much for her to consider. She waves, combing dirty blonde strands from her face.
"Danny Folson is my medkit." Xander taps a tube where Danny last gave him her blood.
"I feel like I'm rushing." Dr. Xander sucks in a heavy breath and steadies himself back a few practiced rolls in his wheelchair. Xander knows where he wants to bond and has been preparing for this moment for far too long in his head.
Today, today it will happen.
"The container," Xander whispers to Danny. She obliges, going to a dented desk beside his bed. There it is, Number One's pod. Honestly, nothing could be inside. Or it could be another experiment, one that should have never been discovered, or opened today.
Numbers, numbers, numbers. Outcomes, outcomes, outcomes.
"Here you go, doctor." Danny practically hurdles the containment pod at him. She hurries to her post and gun. What has she gotten herself into? Does she really want her old job back?
The gun is loaded, Danny reminds herself, "Get on with it Xander!"
Dr. Xander agrees, focusing on the camera. "This, you see is Number One! This vessel contains a poorly misfortunate gift Doctor David Levine has buried. The subject has healing capabilities, can cure diseases and terminal outcomes for those...like myself."
Xander wheels in his chair, displaying his handicap.
"I have been diagnosed with ALS, the root of my impairment, a biological ticking time bomb that will ultimately kill me before my daughters become women. Before, I see my first grandchild. After months of research, debating with my board of foolish trustees, I have taken the Bondite and will perform an attachment procedure tonight."
A snap of his fingers, the signal for Danny, Xander unhinges the lid and places the containment pod on the floor before him. He knows not to drag Number One from its home, since One is alive and most likely tired from being trapped for so long.
With a tap of his knuckles, Xander sees to waking it up.
The clock has started.
And started. And started. And started.
"Doctor?" Danny pries, sitting on a desk. The situation is apparent. They have failed. "Xander, I think it died? Something should be happening."
"No, no." Xander knocks the pod again and rolls to his dreamt changing spot. "Bondite is a living substance that doesn't require the amenities we need for survival. Just a host to manifest with. Number One might be," he considers, removing his muggy glasses, "it might be sleeping. I should have guessed that. I was in such a hurry to-"
The containment pod rattles.
"There! There! It's alive! Number One is awake!" Xander lifts his arms, telling Danny to stand back. Xander doesn't want Number One getting confused to which body it will bond with. Danny's blood is the better carrier- she needs to get out his way.
From the dark hole, snaking onto the lip, slushing to the floor, Number One makes it grand entrance. Not as beautiful as Xander thought, but it would do.
A black spider type, long metallic legs, slandering to points, fattened at the buttocks. Three abdomens, each given six legs. The six legs at the round head squirm to get itself upright. Number One's appendages swim like a lazy frog in water. A single red eye meets the center of One's head and this eye blinks, tiredly. Disgusting to watch, especially when bathed in clear fluid flushing its system.
Number One coughs when it notices Xander.
"That's it?" Danny holds her gun. Whatever that is-should never exist.
"Quiet Danny. Hush! Can't you see Number One is struggling, the poor dear." Feeling confident that he and it will quickly be friends, Xander wipes muck off One's hide and props One on its legs. Number One doesn't harm Xander and Xander wonders why David Levine warned, in his notes, not to bond with these Bondite creatures unless under the proper circumstances? Number One had to be more afraid of him than he was of Number One.
"We should put it back into its container. I don't like the look of it." Danny slowly walks to the door, opening to the outside. She can see everything thanks to a long glass window.
Danny speaks through an intercom, "Give me a second to get the pod locks."
"Leave One alone Danny! You said you were going to help me, so help me. I didn't come all this way to be turned down by you. You know why I need this. I'm dying Danny!"
Number One stretches its legs and sits up, watching Xander, the room, clinking its dagger points on the ground when One steps.
Number One faces Xander with a cricked stance.
"There you go Number One. I understand you're smarter than what you appear. I was prepared for a bonding, but speaking to you is just fine." Number One tilts its head. "I am Dr. Xander. I have woken you from your pod. You've been sleeping for over fifty years. A lot has changed."
Number One claps with its back legs.
Progress.
"I am here to understand your makeup first hand and...healing properties. You will save millions and millions of people in my exact situation."
The lights dim. Flickering on and off as Number One becomes mobile, stalking Xander.
"Doctor, I need to get you out of there!" Danny runs inside, following Number One's trail. She fires, missing.
Number One clings to the walls, skidding to the ceiling-
Number One suffocates Xander's face with its sharp pointers that claw and claw. Ripping flesh, Xander screams from his mouth though Danny can't see his lips. More blood spills till Number One fastens onto Xander's neck and back and the right side of his bloody face.
Danny cannot tell who is screaming louder, Xander because he fell to the floor, or Number One, cooking him with black oils leaking over Xander's kind eyes.
Within Xander's mind, in the deepest and most skewered parts where he thinks and remembers, there is a voice...
Not his voice, or his wife or daughters voice, no. A full voice, angry and glorious. This voice roars a deranged whine. It has much to say and doesn't care who its hosted to, male or female, if David administered this frantic union, if Number Twelve decided with him-he's just glad to exist.
Number One swears he'll never be discarded again.
"Number One! H.E.R.O.S, where are my H.E.R.O.S!" Number One cries.