This is another old chapter dealing my Gargoyles inspired character Chaos from 2001. The second written chapter about him. He doesn't what happened, or why. And doesn't remember who he was. And this takes place before he runs into other gargoyles....

I'll admit, looking back at this, the writing is not very good, but I didn't know what I was doing at the time.

Night 3 -

March 21 - 5 hours after sunset

Chaos let out a deep breath as he sat down to take a much-needed break. He had spent the past four and a half hours on the move. The first three hours been spent gliding while the rest had been spent on foot. He was mildly surprised that he hadn't been spotted or captured by any of the doctor's men. Of course, I did destroy one of the tacking devices and leave the other two behind. I do imagine that would make it harder for them to track me down in any way.

Of course, I couldn't have even escape if the thunderstorm hadn't knocked out the power earlier. Having that happen had been a real stroke of luck considering they had decided to feed me in my cell. And by doing that, they could keep an eye on me with the camera sitting across the hall from me. After all, it was simple action and reaction. And when the power went out, it would have been stupid of me not to take advantage of the situation.

He let out a sigh and looked at the stars. Though I do have to admit it was pretty stupid of me to go gliding around during a thunderstorm, even if it was the tail end of it. He craned his head slightly to look at one of his wings with a trace of curiosity in his eyes. And strangely enough, tonight I managed a hard turn without even thinking about it. I mean, last night I couldn't even make a turn when I tried. I had simply rocked too much and yet tonight was different; I pulled it off like it was no trouble at all. Well, maybe someday I'll figure it out.

Chaos let out another deep breath as he turned to face the stars once again. His thoughts drifted in something akin of a random fashion. They calmed down when something began to dawn on him. Based on the tones and actions of the doctor and his men, they've dealt with other gargoyles. What do they look like? Where are they? How many of them are there? But more importantly, would they allow me to join them? Would they accept me as one of their own even though I had been human? He felt his heart sink a bit as he realized there was the good probability that they might not allow him to join up with them. And that it was also very likely that they might not accept him. So many things to worry about.

The green gargoyle's head snapped around when he caught a possible flicker of light in the corner of his eye. He noted that whatever it was, it had vanished as quick as it appeared. A small warning bell went off, causing senses to heighten just a little bit more. He scanned the area to see if he could spot anything, but failed to do so. Probably was just a shooting star. A moment later, he spotted the light again. This time it didn't go away.

He kept an eye on it for a couple of minutes and began to realize it was getting brighter. By now, all sorts of alarm bells were going off. He quickly got and turned to run, but inadvertently got his tail tangled among his legs. This result was predictable; he tripped and fell flat on his face. You know, it was bad enough that I tripped when I landed earlier, but this is absurd. He got up and started moving once again. How in the world did they find me?

He pondered this for several seconds. Next, a small growl escaped him. How much you want to be it's another tracking device? I could understand two, maybe three, but that's pushing it. I mean come on, four of them though? Talk about overkill, unless they knew I was going to find the rest of them. No, that's giving them too much credit. He grimaced. Makes you wonder if the doc had some other experiments that got away from him at some point in time.

3 hours later:

Chaos issued a groan as he started to come around. One of the first things he did was to run a mental check that concluded that the tail, wings and limbs were still attached. Just after that, he noticed how horrible he felt. He opened eyes just a bit too quickly and the world immediately started spinning. His eyes quickly closed and reached the conclusion that the best idea would to be just to lie there with his eyes closed for a while. Several seconds passed before some feeling or another told him that he as going to need to head over to the sink or toilet as soon as possible.

He slowly opened his eyes a moment later. After letting the world settle slightly, he managed to slowly start standing up and used the wall as support. Just as he finished standing all the way up, he was hammered by a wave of dizziness and nausea. He staggered over to the sink and leaned over it. Not even a moment later, his stomach heaved as it went to purge its contents. The gargoyle trembled and gasped as his stomach emptied itself.

After that was over, he sucked down a number of deep breaths. He brought one hand up and rubbed his now sore throat that still felt like was burning from the passage of stomach acid. You know, I hate it when that happens. The same hand went over and turned the cold-water tap. With slightly glazed over eyes, he watched the stomach contents get flushed down the drain. Next, he rinsed his mouth out a couple times before sucking down some water to calm his stomach.

He remained leaning over the sink for several minutes as the world slowly started to settle down. As this happened, a massive migraine started to make it's presence felt. On top of that was the still trembling stomach and off kilter balance. I certainly feel like one very sick gargoyle. Just what happened to make me feel this bad though? It took him a few more minutes before he recalled the massive fight that happened earlier and the three or four darts that had hit him.

Oh yeah, they shot me up with some sort of sedative. His eyes closed briefly as he let out another groan. I know I've been knocked out before, but I certainly don't recall ever waking up feeling this bad. And when was the last time I was knocked out before running into these folks? He thought about it for a couple of minutes. Oh yeah, when I had my wisdom teeth removed last year. Or was that two years ago? Well, when isn't important. I do remember now that I felt groggy when I woke up, but definitely not trashed like this.

A sigh escaped him and for some reason he didn't understand, a voice in the back of his told him that there was something rather important dealing with teeth. A confused expression washed over his faced as he tried to figure out what was important. A moment later it clicked; the doctor had made a comment a couple nights before about getting him a muzzle so he couldn't bite somebody. A bit curious as to why that comment might have been made, he raised his head and opened up his beak.

The first teeth he noticed were four very sharp and rather dangerous looking fangs. I bet old Dracula would love to have these. He silently peered at a few of his other teeth, noticing that they were sharp as well. He blinked in surprise when he noted that his mouth contained more teeth that it had before. He let out a deep breath as he closed his mouth. Part of him was curious as to how many teeth he now had, but didn't feel like counting them. Well, that probably explains the muzzle comment the other night. And if they do pull one out, I'm going to shove it where the sun doesn't shine!

Chaos bent down and drank some more water. He felt a bit surprised at how much he drank, but the feeling passed quickly. Forgot that those drugs dehydrate you there, didn't you? He turned the water off and started to feel a little better as the water slowly helped purge the drugs from his system. After pondering what to do for a moment, he decided laying down on the gurney might be a good idea. After lying down on his stomach for a couple of minutes, he slipped into a state of sleep that involved dreams and fragmented memories coming to the surface.

90 minutes later:

After waking up, he decided to ponder some of the changes that had happened. He had started to accept that what had happened to him over the last few nights was anything but a dream or nightmare. The sensations and freedom that had been felt when gliding earlier during the night and the night before, coupled with newer instincts, had served to help drive this point home. A deep breath escaped him a moment later.

He briefly studied one of his hands with curiosity. Strangely, he didn't seem bothered at the sight of just four digits instead of the five he had grown up with. The hand came back down to his side as he let out a sigh. To him it felt a little strange that he had gotten used to the new body this quickly, but he understood that his survival depended on it. Another deep breath escaped him. Of course, at some point he would need to learn how to fully use his wings. He smiled and gently moved his tail so it was in view. And who knows, maybe learn to use to use my tail as a weapon, he silently thought to himself.

His mind drifted for a few moments before settling on something else. From what he gathered, guessing and seeing with his own two eyes, his genetic structure had changed. Odds are if somebody was to take a look, not a trace of human DNA would be found anywhere inside me. A small frown quickly decorated his beak. Question gets to be, how was the new genetic code delivered? I mean, my cells wouldn't spontaneously alter their DNA without some sort of external influence. I do remember that much from Cell Biology.

Hmm, about the only thing I can think of that could do something that it might be a virus. After all, they hijack part of the host cells DNA to help create more virus particles. Maybe it’s an RNA virus? We didn’t cover those in class, so who knows. But could somebody actually make a virus that could go in and totally rewrite the entire genetic structure instead of having the cell make more virus particles?

Not to mention, would said virus also go after the immune system? Or was my immune system suppressed so said virus could work? I mean, not going after the immune system or suppressing it risks the chance of organs getting rejected, which in turn would have killed me. If I remember right, suppressing somebody's immune system tends to be rather risky and knowing that, they didn't. So the same virus was coded to nail those cells too. Maybe there were two viruses. One to go after the immune system while the other took care of the rest. But is that even possible? Damn, now I wish I had taken that Microbiology class. And said virus or viruses would have to be fast acting to avoid the old and new immune systems from rejecting my organs. Of course, I'm gasping at straws here. I just don't have enough information to be sure.

The only one who knows what happened is sitting on the other side of that glass wall and is probably enjoying himself. He let a resigned sigh. And I'm going out on a limb here, but I suspect he doesn't have a cure for this either. Oh no, he's too clever for that. Wouldn't want his test subject to no longer be his test subject. A small growl escaped him.

Another sigh escaped as his mind started to wonder about something else. Now for something else that has me confused. Going with the flow here, how did the change in my genetic structure alter some of my instincts? Not to mention, it seemed to have added a couple or so as well. Hmm, let's take a look at the gliding one, shall we? Clearly I sprouted a pair of wings, both of them flexed slightly, so how is it that I want to use them?

Let's look at it like this: when it comes to gargoyles, for the ones that were born this way, it's a natural instinct. Take me on the other hand; I was born as a human and then changed into a gargoyle. So why is it that the instinct became active in me? I mean, it should have remained inert, right? A few ideas were bounced around and none of them presented an answer. Well, isn't that just great? Even the doctor seemed surprised that my instincts were kicking in. He snarled. All roads lead back to the doctor.

The green gargoyle quickly rotated so he was sitting up. Sitting there, he spent a few more minutes thinking about it and none of it really made any sense. Yeah, but does any of this make sense? His expression soured as he noted how true that was. There is one other question though, why me? That he noted, was a pretty damn good question.

It was noted that there wasn't an obvious answer for this question. He thought that over for a few more minutes, but couldn't come up with an answer. From what I can remember, I lead a pretty normal life, or at least one that was somewhat close to normal. One of the last things I can remember before this change happened was that I had no known medical problems. My memory is still pretty trashed when it comes to events before this change happened. It's almost like I was hit with a curse or something. He didn't realize that his last thought wasn't too far from the truth.

He stood up and noted that the inside of his mouth felt like cotton. Well, this is a problem that can be taken care of. After moving over to the sink, the water came on and he drank enough to take care of his thirst. Once he finished with that, he removed his glasses and splashed some cold water over his beak a couple of times. A deep breath escaped him as he bent down to run some water through his hair. Of course, this proved to be rather tricky.

He silently wished he had some shampoo or even liquid soap to actually wash his hair out with instead of just rinsing it. After several minutes, he managed to remove most of the dried out mud. As he moved one of his talons about, he felt a small bump on the back of his left horn, right near the scalp. His head snapped up and shook, which sent a number of water droplets flying everywhere. He brought a talon back to the area and ran it over the bump, which was determined to be on the outside of the skin.

He carefully pried it off as he put his glasses back on. He frowned at the sight of the object; for it was another tracking device. This certainly confirms the fourth tracking device hypothesis. I guess they don't want me going very far if I escape. He sighed. Well, if they think this is going to deter me from escaping once again, they have another thing coming to them. After turning the water off, he threw the device in the toilet and flushed.

Chaos formed a puzzled expression upon hearing an odd sound. Confused, he looked around, and failed to spot anything. As he moved towards the middle of the cell, he heard it once more. Another quick search failed to find the source of the noise. Dude, you are starting to crack up. Get it together if you want to survive. Going insane won't do you a lick of good. He shook his head, and without thinking about it, struck a pose just before entering stone sleep.