• “Do you trust me?” A dark figure asked, whispering into Sky's ear. His voice was definitely male but it sounded like he was drunk by the way he slurred each word.

    “No.” Sky replied; he'd been going for a confident tone, but his voice cracked giving away his fear.

    “Good.” The shadowy man replied. Sky could smell the alcohol leaking on his breath. It was repulsive. He wished there was room to move away. Truthfully, there might have been. Sky couldn't see anything; there was no light and if there was, Sky's eyes would have adjusted by now. He'd been cramped in this space for about two days now. He wasn't really sure how the drunk man had squeezed himself in behind him. A hand gripped his shoulder. “Sly?” He whispered though his voice was still loud and echoed in the chamber.

    “Sky.” The boy corrected, pulling his legs closer to his torso.

    “Sky,” The man said slowly as if trying the word out on his tongue. “I need you to hold onto something for me.” Sky turned back to look at him; mostly on instinct, but also in curiosity.

    “What?” Sky asked softly, fear still evident in his voice. He felt something being pressed into his right palm.

    “Hold onto this, don't ever let go. Not even once.” The man sounded urgent.

    “Why? What is it?” Sky asked. He was offered no reply, just the sound of the man scuttling out of the cell. “Wait! What is it?!” But he was already gone.

    * * *

    Sky's hair was grasped roughly from behind and his body was dragged out of the prison. He'd lost weight from the time he'd been placed inside the container. Every part of his body seemed to have shrunk. His ribs were clear even through the large white T-shirt he'd been given. He was conscious, but just barely. The coolth of a metal table stung Sky's skin but he was too fatigued to react. A sharp snap sounded next to his ear and a bright bulb flashed into closed eyes. He grimaced this time. A quick attempt to roll to his side was formed but gloved hands pushed him back onto his back. “Doc!” An unfamiliar voice yelled. “He's alive!” A scuttle of footsteps. Quiet chattering. Sky couldn't comprehend what they were saying. Just quiet murmurs.

    “Sky,” A gentle yet husky voice said. “Sky, can you hear me?” The voice was almost soothing. Almost. A soft hand caressed him.

    Grudgingly, he opened his sapphire eyes. A gentleman, maybe in his mid-fifties, loomed above him. The man's glasses were snuggly fit on the edge of his nose and his garbs consisted of an impeccable white suit and a starched lab-coat. “How are you feeling?” He questioned, his voice a deep grumble. “Do you remember anything?” Sky simply stared blankly at him.

    “Where am I?” He croaked with effort. The doctor smiled sympathetically but left his side; only to come back after a small while. He was pulling a cart full of various supplies. The doctor motioned to what looked like a security guard. Together they lifted a seemingly heavy object and placed it onto Sky's left forearm. What took two strong men to carry should have brought forth at least a little pain, but Sky couldn't feel the weight at all. It was if it wasn't there.

    “Lift your arm.” The doctor commanded. Sky rose his arm without hesitation. It lifted easily. The guard look surprised, maybe even astonished; but the doctor simply smiled. “Easy, isn't it?” Sky nodded. “I suppose you want to know what's going on?” Again, Sky simply nodded. The doctor pulled a chair across the floor, making a loud screeching sound as it dragged. “We're perfecting a certain kind of...drug I suppose you'd call it.”

    “Drugs are bad for you.” Was Sky's response.

    “Yes,” The doctor agreed, “Very bad for you. But I'm not talking about that kind of drug.” Sky's face morphed into a confused look. “This drug is a specific kind; a kind that can make one man have the strength of ten-no, twenty combined and the resistance of steel. They can go for centuries without food and years without water.”

    Sky furrowed his eyebrows, “So like...an immortal?” The doctor smirked.

    “Not like an immortal; exactly like an immortal. If I perfect this I can be world famous! Rich! Immortal myself!” He rose from the chair now, “I won't need my pathetic salary, or my co-workers. I could be a god!” His yell echoed through the room breaking the silence. “And you, my friend, will help me.”

    “How can I help?” Sky tried to reason; he wasn't convinced this man wasn't insane yet and didn't want to end up like him.

    The doctor pointed to a door Sky hadn't even noticed. “You survived in what millions would call unlivable conditions for a year without food or water.” The doctors face crept closer and closer until Sky could feel the doctor's breath in his ear. “You are a god, Sky.” The doctor withdrew. “If I had your DNA; I could make myself immortal and with that power, I could control the world.”

    Sky's right hand clenched and he felt something sharp dig into his skin. He looked down. It was a shard of crystal, a kind Sky had never seen before. It hit him like a tidal-wave. Memories, good and bad poured into his head. An overflow of knowledge.

    “No one deserves immortality.”

    “What did you say?”

    “Life is a gift, you must live it to it's fullest.” Sky tightened his fist. The shard snapped. He felt his body lose the power he'd been cursed with. He saw a misty form of a dark man smiling. “But you must always give it back.”