God is Dog Spelled Backwards Jilli felt like she was falling. A week ago she’d been so confident in her plan, but now that it had finally been executed, an unwavering sense of unease began to linger in the air around her. This whole take-over plan had been to give Jilli control over her life, but now more than ever she felt like a rat trapped in a maze. It was because the Director was missing. After discovering her office to be empty, and devoid of any clues or information, Abigail had brought her back to the girl’s bathroom, and decided to give Jilli some space. Quite of her own accord, Jilli’s legs took her wandering. Nearly the whole night she’s searched blindly for where the Director might be before Doug found her around three in the morning and took her back to her room. “She… I think she’s watching me, Doug,” she’d confessed as she buried her head in his chest. “Who?” he asked, confused. “The Director. She could be anywhere, just waiting, watching to see what I do next. Where is she, Doug? Where is she??” “Whoa, whoa, Jill, calm down,” he grabbed her shoulders as she began to scream. “Of course she’s watching you; she’s watching all of us. But now you’ve shown them that they can stand up to her. If she even lifts a finger at you, she’ll have a whole school to answer to.” That helped, a little bit, but Jilli couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched for the rest of the night, and slept poorly. She kept wondering back and forth, over and over again in half-delirium, what would happen in the morning, when the student body would awaken to find itself alone? The gates were shut, the fence electrified. No one was getting in. But with the morning sun came a newfound determination. She was the mastermind behind this coup, so now it was her job to lead the newly liberated sheep, right? It wouldn’t be too difficult. Jilli had watched Sakura lead the idol group for years. When she entered the cafeteria, Doug to her left, Abigail to her right, the rest behind her, she witnessed growing insanity. The students were a hive of bees, humming incessantly to each other, glancing over at the vacant lunch lines. They were beginning to realize that something had changed. The passed their normal lunch table, and Jilli motioned for the others to sit which she continued to the front. A queen had to address her subjects. She jumped up on the platform at the far end of the room, the metal beams above her seeming to dangle over her head. The students gradually hushed and turned to her. They were looking for an answer, any answer, and she intended to give them one. The microphone was dead, but it didn’t matter. Jilli had a voice that carried. “My name…” she began, and stopped as she caught the eye of a few hundred students and her voice hitched. “My name is Jilli Nakajima,” she began again, “and I am the new Director.” Needless to say, the floor erupted into a flurry of confusion and panic. Jilli just stood there, and waited. Eventually, they realized that she was holding her explanation, and they hushed once more. And so Jilli began to speak. Afterwards, she wouldn’t even remember what she’d said. She knew that she told them what they’d did, that now there were no adults at St. Adelaide’s, and the students were in charge. And Jilli would lead them. “I will not pull strings from the shadows, but be forward and honest,” she said, hop9ing that the Director could hear her. “I will also not keep you here. If anyone wishes to leave. I will be opening the gates on Friday for five minutes.” After that, she thanked the crowd and got down. She could feel all their eyes on her. They all probably thought she was insane. But everything was fine now. It was all fine. No one, not the Director, or her manager, or her mother, or Kyoko could hurt her now. She was in control. Jilli sat down at the usual table with all her friends around her. Abigail was discussing who-knew-what with Victor, highly animated as the rims of her round glasses glowed in the harsh light, Sonia was staring off into space while Gil studied her, mildly concerned, and Doug… Doug was only picking at his food. “Are you okay?” she asked. Why wasn’t he happy? His torture was over. “It’s just…” he looked at her, as if he wanted to say something, then he shook his head, and said something different instead. “Mike never came back to the room last night.” “He didn’t?” Jilli leaned forward, concerned. “Come to think of it, where is he now?” The others at the table began to take an interest. “Who was the last to see the lad?” Gil asked. “Well, he was at the Director’s office with Abby and I,” Jilli said. “But I had to leave and I haven’t seen him since. Abby?” “I went back after I dropped you off but he had already left.” Abigail thought for a second. “Oh, but you know, I left the library unlocked. He’s been spending an awful lot of time there. I bet he just fell asleep.”
Mike had been getting a little strange lately, like an undertone she hadn’t noticed before taken the forefront of his personality. Doug sighed heavily. “I’m gonna have to be the one to drag his ass out of the creep zone, aren’t I?” “Hey,” Victor frowned. “She’s sitting right here, you know.” “I didn’t name any names,” Doug raised his hands in surrender. “It’s alright, Victor. I take it as a compliment,” Abigail cut in, her smile shark-like. “It was not meant as one.” “I don’t care.” For an instant, it seemed just like everything was normal. But still, the tight lump in Jilli’s gut remained. She couldn’t help feeling numb, unreal, disassociated, like she was floated two feet above her own head. She hoped Mike was okay. ~~ o ~~ Mike was not okay. The world returned to him slowly, gradually. First as light, then color, then shape. One by one these elements came together to form coherency. He felt numb, unreal, disassociated, like he was floating two feet above his own head. For an instant, it seemed just like everything was normal. He was lying in his bed in the dorm. But slowly, he began to feel the cold metal on his wrists. It was that cold that brought him back to himself, a least a little. And he didn’t like what he saw. He was strapped to some sort of table by his wrists and ankles. It was at a forty-five degree angle so if he turned his head he could see a little to the sides. This room was small and dark, more like a cell than anything. One light shown down from above him, striking him directly in the eye, which made the rest of the room harder to make out. But from what he could see, the wall were padded. That was somewhat worrying, but he didn’t begin to panic until he saw the IV in his arm. Then he freaked. First he tried to scream, but the best he could manage was a little whimper. Then he struggled against the restraints but his limbs wouldn’t quite obey him and his movements were sluggish. Where? Why…? Mike couldn’t think clearly enough to form a coherent question. “He… hel…p,” he managed with intense concentration. “Even if you managed to scream, no one would ever hear you all the way down here.” The harsh familiarity of her voice sent shivers down his spine. It was undeniably Abigail, but there was something wrong with it; an undertone he hadn’t noticed before taken to the forefront of her personality. He stopped struggling. He was too weak to do so anyway. “There’s a good boy,” her converse made a squeaking sound against the concrete floor as she came around to stare at him, the rims of her round glasses glowing in the harsh light. “Wh… wha…” Abigail tilted her head in mock concern. “Do you have something to say?” she asked. “It’s okay, take your time. That tranquilizer I stabbed you with was meant for horses, I think. Sometimes I get so confused.” He could tell by her shark-like grin that she hadn’t been confused at all. “W… who are you?” “Oh Mike, please,” she tittered, the sound practically filling the small cell. “I know you’re not that much of a dumb shit. I already told you who I am. Oh, wait, I know what it is. You just can’t believe that I’m the one who put your dear friends through so much suffering. I seemed like such a good girl. Unfortunately, people just aren’t as good as you’d like to think they are. I didn’t lie to you, Mike.” And here she put a small receiver to her mouth and spoke into it. “I’m the one who pulls strings from the shadows,” he wondered what was so funny about that as she began to chuckle. “I am the Director.” As much as he wished he could, even Mike couldn’t deny it now. That right there was the voice he’d grown to dread over the last month, right in front of his eyes. But even addled though he was, something still nagged at him. “Bu…” he tried, his words slurring. “The Director has… dir…ected the school since…” “1976. That’s right!” she beamed. “I see all that research paid off. Yes, I am, in fact, much older than I appear. Well, mentally, at least. By my calculations, I am physically about nineteen years old, give or take a few months.” “How?” She shrugged. “Well, I had to test the Project’s theories on someone, and at the time, the only someone I had was myself.” Mike’s eyes widened. “The Project.” “I’m sure you know the story by heart now,” Abigail waved him off. “It was the Cold War, there were rumors that the Russians had created the perfect soldier so the government opened up St. Adelaide’s Research Facility to experiment on children and—” she paused, grinning gleefully as Mike’s eyes widened. “Oh, but you didn’t know that last part, did you?” Mike shook his head. “No… no.” “Oh, Mike. Did you really think ‘Buttercup’ was a flower? You can be awfully dumb for someone so smart. Buttercup was a nine-year-old girl. Many of the scientists almost balked at the idea of using children, but it was necessary, you know.” “How is… something like that… necessary?” Mike couldn’t think straight. Everything was wrong now, it was all wrong. “Project Paragon works in three stages,” she held the requisite number of fingers in front of his nose and they blurred across his vision. “Mind, body, and soul. The mind element in particular requires… extensive surgery. You see, adult minds are already well formed, in control. But a child’s—or a teenager’s—mind is incredibly spongy. It can change its ways. Thusly, children. Thusly, you. Mike’s stomach did a somersault, and the metaphorical motion nearly made him puke. He strained against his restraints. “No.” “Yes.” Abigail’s eyes gleamed. “I know I won’t fail this time. Your mind is the spongiest I’ve seen in years. It adapted remarkably well to the large amounts of antihistamines that I slipped into your Red Bull.” So it wasn’t Red Bull that gave you wings. It was just drugs. “The process will take maybe a week, and most of that will be devoted to altering your biology form this inside out. This time… it will be perfect. You will be perfect. I’ve learned from the original Project’s mistakes, oh yes.” Mike pulled so hard at the restraints that he nearly dislocated his shoulder. “You see, I’ve discovered the problem with the first paragon, Paragon Alpha. They let her keep her memories. She remembered who she had been. She mourned the loss of her own innocence and proved uncontrollable. Now, I can’t ‘erase’ your memories, per se, that’s impossible. But I can put them somewhere you’ll never find them.” “You’re… you’re insane.” All she did in response was stare at him, a curious smile plastered on her face. “I never said I wasn’t.” Skipping, she fiddled with the IV on his arm, despite his struggling. After a second, a strange, green liquid began to flow through the IV and into his arm. “Now, to do a little altering to that DNA of yours. I won’t lie, it’s going to be quite painful. Essentially, your whole body is going to die and be replaced, one small bit at a time.” She gave him a pat on the cheek before she turned and opened the door to his cell. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check up on you. Don’t go anywhere.” Her cackle echoed down the hall. The silence was deafening as Mike waited for unconsciousness to claim him again. But as the seconds passed, his stomach fell. He realized that there would be no mercy. Whatever future that green liquid was bringing, he would feel every second of it. The pain started slowly, just a tingling and slight numbness of his extremities, but with growing horror he knew that it was only going to get worse. Mike felt like he was falling.
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