Friend pondered to itself for a moment. Mr. Kaht, the puppet for its evil plans, was getting increasingly distracted in his progress towards discovering a way to mass produce Ichor, the golden substance that was secreted by the (Insert cool name here) bugs. He was getting more and more involved in his daughter’s life ever since his wife had died, and consequentially less and less involved in his research. An idea popped into Friend’s head, and it smiled mischievously, though its plans were far from mere mischief.
Mr. Kaht smiled to himself, his daughter snoring lightly in the car seat beside him. Snow fell lazily from the dark sky, illuminated briefly by the headlights until they hit the wet pavement. They were returning home from a larger city where he had reported his success to his benefactors. His daughter had come for the shopping. It was late, the radio flashing the analogue time: 12:37. The car hummed as it sped down the road, going around a corner in the looping countryside.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, an enormous truck came around the corner, swerving into his lane on the wet roads. Instinctively, Mr. Kaht swung his car to the left, but the wet roads caused his car to fishtail. The truck slammed into the right side of the car with a sickening crunch of metal. It happened fast. One minute the car was on the road, the next it was in the ditch.
Mr. Kaht groaned, his head ringing and dizzy. He moved his arms and his legs to check if they were hurt. Besides hitting his head on the window, putting a large spider web of cracks in it, he was fine. The right side of his car had taken the brunt of the impact.
“Are you okay-” Mr. Kaht stopped as he looked at his daughter, his heart pumped loudly in his ears. The world seemed to freeze. The car had crunched her body brutally.
In the hospital, Mr. Kaht sat heavily in a chair, his head in his hands. Tears had stopped a long time ago. The man who was driving the truck hadn’t known what happened. He just lost control of his vehicle, but Mr. Kaht didn’t blame him. He blamed himself. He had swerved left and let his daughter take the impact. He should’ve swerved the other way, let himself be the cushion. He had been there for twenty hours straight as the doctors worked on her. She had broken ribs, bruised organs, her right arm smashed, and both of her legs were shattered.
The sound of a door shutting roused him. He looked up to see a doctor walking toward him.
Mr. Kaht rose. “How is she?”
The doctor looked down. “She’ll be all right. She’s sleeping right now.” he paused, Mr. Kaht feeling lifted. “But we… her legs were too damaged. She was losing too much blood, and her arm was useless and suffered severe damages and infections.”
“What are you saying?” Mr. Kaht asked.
“Your daughter will live the rest of her life in a wheel chair with only one arm.”
Mr. Kaht’s world suddenly came crashing down on him. His legs suddenly didn’t feel like they were strong enough to support him and he collapsed heavily into the chair, his mind whirling.
“I’ll give you some time to think.” The doctor said walking off.
Mr. Kaht found that he could cry again. “What am I going to do?” he whispered to no one.
“The answer is simple.” A voice announced. It was Friend’s voice. Friend had been there for him since he was a kid. The disembodied voice had been consoling him ever since they met, helping him make decisions throughout his life. “Make her new limbs.”
“How?” Mr. Kaht asked.
“Using Ichor.”
Ichor. That mysterious golden fluid with mystical properties that could extend a human’s life? Even though it could stop disease, fight plaque, and cure AIDS, it had no regenerative qualities. “I can’t. It can’t reconstruct limbs.
“It might not, but it can form a link between a prosthetic limb and human flesh.”
Mr. Kaht shot up. “It does!?” He exclaimed, making the receptionist look at him funny.
“Yes, but you’d need a large quantity of the stuff.” Friend said. “It would take years and years for the number of bugs you have now to create that much naturally. And you’d have to design a way for the limbs to work with it.” Friend snickered silently to himself. Even the prosthetic limb would help him out in controlling his own body.
“then I’ll get to work right away.” Mr. Kaht grabbed his coat hastily. “What would I do without you Friend?”
Friend didn’t reply. It was in the room where Mr. Kaht’s daughter laid in bed. Her form was covered by a blanket, making a bump in the fabric that stopped after her waist. Bandages wrapped around the place where her right arm used to be.
“Well Jamie, I guess you are useful after all.” Friend said to itself. it couldn’t contain itself now. The demented being began laughing loudly even though no one could hear it, truly amused with how its plan had worked out so well.
Okay I've typed this up as a reason to jamie being there what do you guys think?
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Topic: The Next Chapter, you control it (Read 12059 times)