Transhuman
“What's your name?”
The girl couldn't have been more than seven years old. Child-like ignorance stained her face in the form of a wide, toothy grin. Her front two teeth were missing from neglect, and several other yellowing teeth were showing signs of rot. The skin stretching over her skeleton was white with a ting of greenish-pink in her dimpled cheeks. She wore a simple gown that fell only to her knees, exposing red burnt flesh. Those brown eyes of hers were beginning to haze over in blindness. “What's your name?” she repeated, bending at her knobby knees to see me at eye level.
The Sickness turned the air around the young girl sour, but all the air in the area had the same gripping feeling of death. The land had been condemned years before because of chemical radiation, and no plant, let alone a human, could survive in the toxic zone. Even the atmosphere seemed to give up on the place; the ozone had all but been destroyed, making the sun impossible to stand in without burning. Yet, people continued to live there, knowing the Sickness waited around the corner. They all knew they were going to die; everyone but the girl knew.
It was the only way to explain why the girl was out in the middle of the day when the sun was at its strongest.
Her blissful smile faltered. “Do you not have a name?” she wondered, turning her head to the side. Her hay colored hair threatened to fall out of their braids at the simple motion; the objects restraining the hair were nothing more than the shavings of a scratchy rope. There were small red marks on the back of her thin neck where the rope rubbed her skin raw. “Everyone needs a name,” she continued. “My name's Svet. Mommy says it means 'light', because I'm the light of her life,” she giggled, a bit of redness coming to her cheeks.
She shifted so her thin body was sitting next to mine. We sat inside one of the many abandoned buildings of the area. The insides were hollowed out by robbers years before, and any glass in the windows had been either destroyed by the weather or melted away by the sun. Our location was just under one of the destroyed windows, outside the reach of the damaging sun's rays.
Her large brown eyes stared into mine, and her smile returned. “Would it be alright if I named you? I see you come and sit here everyday, but I've never had the courage to come talk to you. Well, until today that is, so can I name you? I promise it will be a good one.”
“Very well,” I mumbled, staring at the girl name Svet.
“Alright. I've thought about this for awhile now, so you're going to like it. Koshka. It means cat, so it makes sense because you have cat ears,” she laughed.
I continued to simply look at her, fascinated by her innocence. “Do you know why I have cat ears, Svet?” I asked, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the cold stoned building. Hunger gnawed at my stomach while dizziness assaulted my head.
“They're cute?” she guessed.
I had to suppress a groan. The girl's ignorance was going to be the death of her before the Sickness ever had a chance. “Svet, do you know what's beyond the Gate?” The Gate towered over the area, separating it from the rest of the city. It consisted of miles high poles with electrical currents running through them every three feet. The pure electricity killed most of the Sickness that tried to leave the area, so the rest of the city didn't suffer as much. It didn't stop the occasional random cases of the flesh deteriorating disease from popping up, however. Those few souls were usually sent out of the city or killed on the spot.
Svet looked down. “Daddy's over there,” she whispered. She pulled her brunt legs to her chest, flinching as she brushed against the raw skin. “We use to live there, but one day I got sick. These scary men wearing suits came to our house and talked to Mommy and Daddy; then they told us we had to leave. When we left, Daddy wasn't with us. Mommy, she said that he didn't want to come with us because he didn't love us anymore.” Small tears pricked at her eyes. “It was a few months ago.”
“I understand,” I said, in a nearly robotic fashion. Her story was one I had heard before, and it was becoming more common by the day. All humans were built with the fight or flight instinct. Svet's father chose flight while her mother chose to fight. If there was one thing impressive about humans, it was a mother's protectiveness over their offspring. I never knew my own creators, so it was fascinating to see how other organisms interacted. “When did you get those burns?” They looked fresh; the skin was still peeling.
“Yesterday. I tried to see you, but I fell in the sun.” she mumbled. “I'm not allowed to go outside once the sun sets. Mommy says it's because she doesn't want to share me with anyone, but the neighbors told me it's because monsters walk around at night. Do monsters really come out at night?” she asked, fear spiking in her voice.
“It depends on who you are whether they're monsters or not,” I answered, truthfully.
She let the answer sink in for a moment. “May I hold your hand?” She looked down at the ground, and a pink flush overtook her face.
I sighed and limply held my hand out to the girl.
She looked at it in awe. “You have claws?” she wondered. She took my hand in hers and examined it. She noted my overgrown black nails that came to sharp points, and her soft hands went over my boney knuckles meticulously. “You're so pale, too, but everyone's pale now-a-days,” she giggled. Her small fingers wrapped around the hem off my long black sleeve, and her eyes flicked up to me, asking for permission. When I did nothing, she pulled the sleeve up just the slightest. “You have a tattoo?”
“That's my skin.” I mumbled, following her gaze. My pale skin was tainted by a large, unorganized, black web that almost looked like healed burns. “They're my veins. They show whenever I get hungry.”
“That doesn't happen to me,” she noted.
“I'm not like you, Svet.”
“I guess you aren't, Koshka. But if you're hungry, you should come home with me. Mommy won't mind having someone else for dinner. She usually complains about never having people over to the house anymore,” she giggled. “Will you come over, Koshka? It'd make me really happy.” Her smile held all the warmth the world could muster, and it wasn't my place to crush that warmth.
“Very well.”
Her eyes glistened and a small laugh escaped her. “That makes us friends, right? We're friends, Koshka?” she asked in a begging tone.
Shutting my eyes once more, I nodded. “We are friends,” I answered.
“Wow, my first friend,” she cooed. “We can't go until the sun sets, so let's talk until then.” Her voice went on and on about pointless topics, and she didn't seem to mind the lack of conversation on my part. She was so absorbed in her own little world; nothing else mattered. She was such an odd human, but it made her endearing. “Oh, the sun's set. We were talking for so long that I didn't notice.” She stood up and brushed dirt off of her gown.
I slowly followed her example, but I nearly fell over as a wave of dizziness struck me. I checked my wrist, and the black webs had grown thicker in desperation. “Do you live nearby, Svet? I'm not sure I can make it too far.”
“It's only a block away. We'll be there in a jiffy,” she promised. She led the way through the still deserted streets.
I knew the moment we left, the streets would be filled. I could feel the residence watching us move from their houses in silent horror. I felt their hostility, but more importantly, I felt the Sickness in their bodies, making Its way through their flesh. In my state, It called to me; It begged to be taken. It wanted to be set free. Every part of my being longed to go to anyone of them, but instead, I continued to follow the little girl's footsteps.
We stopped in front of a worn down house. It was squeezed between large warehouses similar to the one we had hidden inside during the day. The single storied building had thin metal sheets where the windows once stood, and the wooden door was hanging on its hinges. A small awning hung over the door, giving a few feet of freedom from the sun. The roof was made of layers of garbage and smelled of rotting meats.
Svet smiled up at me; she was extremely short compared to my height. “We're here.”
I followed her inside. I had to duck my head to fit through the threshold. The inside of the house was one large room. There were no coverings on the walls or flooring; leaving nothing but dirt on the ground. Moldy blankets and hay were laid down in the corner farthest from the windows; they must have acted as beds. A make-shift table sat in the very center of the room. It only stood at knee length, and there were no chairs around the odd piece of furniture. There was a small kitchen that only consisted of fire stove and a small dying refrigerator.
A woman stood in front of the stove, humming under her breath. Her blond hair was pulled back into a bun, so nothing would fall into the stew she was making. Her body was thin, but no where near as thin as Svet. At one time, she must have been beautiful, but poverty had taken its toll and made her worn. The Sickness was localized in her body. It was slowly killing her, piece by piece; It only resided in her left arm and shoulder.
She turned, smiling brightly. “Welcome home, Svet.” Her chocolate eyes widen in fear when they saw me, and her knees weakened almost to the point of collapsing. She had to put her hand on the wall to stabilize her body.
“Mommy,” Svet cheered, running to hug her mother's legs. “This is my friend, Koshka. Doesn't he look cool, Mommy? I invited him over for dinner.”
The woman didn't look away from me. Her eyes showed she was thinking- trying to find anyway to escape. “Svet, Love, why don't you go down the street and wash you face. You want to look nice for our guest, right?” she asked, voice trembling just the slightest.
Svet didn't notice her mother's distress. She simply continued to smile. “Alright, Mommy.” She ran past me, calling, “I'll be right back, Koshka.”
Svet's mother stared at me, eyes still wide. Her hand blindly grabbed at the first thing she could find. It happened to be a dulled knife for cutting vegetables. “Leave us in peace,” she demanded. “My daughter never did anything wrong. She's innocent.”
My stomach growled, and pain shot down through my veins. The Sickness sang its sweet song, making me feel enlightened. “She has the Sickness, and the Sickness is a sin. I only want to purify her,” I said. My grip on my conscious mind was slipping; leaving me open to my instinct. My mouth began to water as the Sickness' song began to grow louder. “I only want to purify her.”
She jumped at me, arm extended and ready to break skin.
I easily side stepped the rash attack. I slipped my arm around her waist while my other hand clamped over her mouth. The Sickness was so much weaker in her, but it still was tempting. I felt her trying so desperately trying to break free. She didn't want anything to happen to her daughter, and I envied that connection between her and Svet. “It's so beautiful.” I tilted her head away from the infected area and leaned into it. The coldness of the Sickness seeped through her skin into mine and made my mind fuzzy.
Her teeth dug into the flesh of my hand. “Monster, don't touch her,” she screamed. Her voice was high pitched and frenzied.
“Only if you don't satisfy,” I promised. My fangs sunk into the woman's soft flesh easily, and the Sickness quickly flowed from her to me. The sweet taste of death made me see white, and I held the woman closer to me. Blood slipped down her skin, past the top of her shirt, and as I drained the Sickness from her, the once infected skin turned brown and rotten. The veins under her skin showed a fiery red, and her mouth hung open in a silent scream.
Even though I had drained most of the disease from her body, it still remained fused in her cells. Slowly, I tore back the flesh from the bone and devoured it. The cold skin slipped down my burning throat, soothing it. Blood poured out from where the flesh was removed, painting her skin a lovely red. I continued until there was nothing left of the disease in her body. I released her, and she fell to the floor.
Her brown eyes were wide open and unseeing. Her mouth remained agape even in death. The blond hair had fallen out of its bun and splayed out over the dirt floor.
I stared down at the woman and sighed. My hunger wasn't gone yet, and the veins under my skin still showed black.
“Mommy?”
Svet's stepping into the house, her face was still wet with water. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to understand what was happening. “Mommy?” she called again. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she collapsed down over her mother's boy. “Mommy!” she screamed. “Koshka. Koshka, what happened to Mommy? What happened?” she begged, unaware that her mothers blood was tainting her gown.
I sighed. “Svet, you don't know why I have cat ears, right?”
She looked up at me, all hope drained from her eyes. Her warmth was gone; her innocence was stripped away by reality.
Slowly, I grabbed a hold of one of my ears and gave an almost playful tug. “These show that I'm not human. At one point, I must have been, but I don't remember it. I probably had a family, and I might have even had a mother that loved me as much as your mother loved you. The farthest back I can remember was being just older than you. The same men in suits that told your family that you had to leave where holding me to a table. There was one on each of my limbs, and one was standing over me. They cut me open and experimented on me for years on end. I spent days at a time, unable to sleep because of the pain. Tubes were constantly shove into to my body, and needles were always filling me with strange fluids. I could only pray they would be done with me, and I even hoped for my own death.”
I shut my eyes. “They only stopped once my body was what it is now. They made it so I'm not susceptible to the Sickness; in fact, the Sickness is the only thing keeping me alive. The Sickness runs through my body and keeps me from aging, but if I don't consume enough of it, my body will fail, instantly. One of the only warnings I'm given are those black veins you saw earlier.” Another sigh passed me, and I looked down at the little girl.
Her eyes were blank, as if she didn't understand what I was saying.
I went down on one knee and lifted her chin so she was looking directly into her eyes.
“I was created to cleanse the world of the Sickness. I can only take the Sickness from someone by draining it from their bloodstream and then eating the infected flesh. It's not often someone survives the cleansing process, but it's for the better of the world.”
Realization crashed down on her. “Koshka,” she whimpered, “did you kill my mommy?”
“Yes,” I answered, bluntly.
Violent sobs rocked her small body, and she buried her face in her mother's dress. “A-are you going to kill me, too?” she asked.
For a split second my throat tightened, but it didn't change the answer. “Yes.”
~♦~
Moonlight poured down on the roof top as I desperately tried to clear my mind. My shirt was laid down next to me on the concrete roof, and my body was reclined in a semi-comfortable position. Physically, I was strong, but mentally, I felt worn and exhausted.
“Someone looks like they got lucky, Nechnik.” a male voice laughed.
I turned to face Voron. He wore his usual fox-like grin. His sleeveless shirt showed of his thin black veins, saying he was becoming hungry but wasn't desperate yet. His long red hair was slicked back, and the style made his orange and white tipped ears much more prominent. He plopped down next to me in a sloppy manner and smirked at me. “So, Nechnik, how did a prude like you get enough of the Sickness to completely eliminate those pesky veins? Was it a prostitute?” he joked.
“Koshka,” I mumbled.
“Um, did you just sneeze?” Voron asked.
“Do you think we're evil, Voron?” I asked, ignoring his sarcasm.
“This is strange, especially coming from you Nechnik. You're the first celebrated success among us transhumans. The newbies being made want to be you, because you've been doing this for years. How is it you just now began to wonder whether we're evil or not?” Voron asked, losing his smirk. “I mean, it's not something I want to think about. All of those infected are going to say we're evil, because we end their lives. Those not infected say we're heroes, because we're helping to end the disease. The lines between good and evil are too blurry to make a real call. The best we can do is hope that it all turns out alright in the end. Do you get what I'm trying to say, Nechnik?”
I stared up into the sky and thought about that small light in my dark life. Even if it had lasted only a second before going out, I would always remember that beauty. “My name's Koshka.”
Voron frowned and cocked his head to the side. “Koshka? Why suddenly change your name?”
“It's the name a little ray of light gave me.” And with that, a small smile overtook my face, and everything felt right.