This is the revised version of the original story "DAMAGE."  Special thanx
to Monica Shin who has kindly taken the time to C & C and who has been the
first person to publicly C & C my fic.  I really appreciate it.  Be forewarn
that this fanfic is rather DARK.  So unless you want to torture yourself by
reading something you don't like, don't read it.  It's as straight forward
as that.  Constructive C & C is welcome.  Have fun reading.

-Shuichi Minamino
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
DAMAGE

	A broken body lays on the ground.  A few feet ahead, another one.  Blood is
everywhere.  That is appropriate.  That is an appropriate way to kill.  The
people at the lab told him that they don't care how he does it, as long as
he succeeds in assassinating the whole family.  It is just as easy as that.
He doesn't need weapons, he can very well kill with just his bare hands.
Although the feeling of holding any kind of weapon is better, especially
when he feels the blood splattering as the artery break.

	He is about to leave when he spots a mirror.  He looks at himself.  The
beautiful youth in the mirror stares back at him coldly with the same
emotionless eyes.  One golden eye and one sapphire eye, light brown hair
with golden streaks...his trademark.  They've told him that he can't be
human, for no human can look as he does, with those pair of odd color eyes,
or possess his strength and endurance.  He no longer knows pain.  They have
made sure that he has experienced and known every pain possible.  They have
made sure that all he can do are to kill, to destroy, and to
terminate...like a machine, something he has come to despise.

	He looks at his watch- three o'clock.  He smiles coldly.  It is almost time
for the celebration.  He can't be late for the celebration.  Today is the
tenth year annivesary and he plans to make it a memorable one.  He picks up
his weapon- a crossbow, this time, and exits the door.  An interesting
choice, he supposes, but crossbows hold a special meaning for him.  They are
ancient, but they are efficient- deadly.  Sometimes technology can be a
burden.  He remembers how he has been conditioned and controlled by technology.

	He had been an experiment.  It was ten years ago today that they took him
away from his family, and made him witnessed the killing of his family.  He
was only four then.  He remembered hearing his sister screaming as she was
being sliced in two, his mother crying as her throat was slashed, and seeing
his father lunging at the men in anger but only to be torn apart, limb by
limb.  

	They have wanted him for his destructive capability.  He was told that he
has potential to do many things, and that he has the endurance and
capability beyond that of a normal human.  They did experiments on him and
found that he could destroy and create things with his mind.  They were
satisfied that they have finally found the one they were looking for.  He
was told that they have spent decades conditioning and experimenting with
different families, trying to create the one human that would have such ability.

	But their excitements didn't last long.  For he had once lost control of
himself, after being brutally beaten during one of the sessions, and had
literally ripped his trainers apart by a mere glance.  The scientists were
alarmed, so they tried to contain his power.  He can still remember the
blood, the bullets, the chains, and the pain.  The horrible smell of blood,
sweat, and death.  But now death is his friend.  He remembers how they had
to contain him, just so that his power would not destroy every living thing
inside and outside the lab.  The needles...those sharp needles and chemicals
they had used on him to keep his hidden power dormant.  The pain of being
bound, in body and soul.

	But he knows that they had done more than just that.  He remembers how
seven years ago, on the day that he had turned seven, several of the men had
come into his little cell.  He remembers how they have chained him heavily
with machinary and metals, and then forced themselves on him.  They had
violated him, ripping him physically and mentally apart.  It was meant to
showed their dominance.  Because they were seeing more and more of his power
each day, and they were frightened.  Never again, never again since will he
let anyone go near him, because he hates human beings.  He hates himself for
being a part of them, for being their 'project.'

	He listens to them and carries out their commands to assasinate others, of
his free will.  He owes them nothing and he knows it, but he feels a certain
catharsis when he kills- as if all the unjust done to him, are still being
done to him, are being repaid...  He can control life and death of others;
he is always in control.  He can tear life apart, or put it back together.
That is part of his ability.  Life and death don't mean anything to him.

	He screws in the last nail into place and stands up.  He is ready- this is
the last thing he will do at this place.  Now, it's time for the celebration
for the anniversary.  After this, he can vanish forever.  It has been ten
years since he had met those scientists.  Today is the tenth year
anniversary, how appropriate.  Everything is so appropriate these days.  He
smiles coldly as he knows that he is going to enjoy this very much.  

	He carries a small box and a big bouquet of white roses into the lab
building.  The guards won't let him carry anything inside, so he shoots one
of them, and rips the other's throat out.  The blood tastes good, better
than his own.  He can remember tasting his own blood in his mouth when those
two had beaten him in the past.  He looks down at his clothes.  Damn those
guards!  He sees blood on his new suit, and can't help but be annoyed.  He
has bought those today so that he can look neat for the celebration. 

	The men see what he carries and gasp in surprise.  He has made sure that
everyone in the lab gather there.  He then turns his head and meets eyes
with the supervisor, the head of the lab. 

	"What is the meaning of this?!" The man demands. "Have you gone mad?"

	 He doesn't move or respond, he only smiles.  They are taken back, when was
the last time they've seen him smiled?  That is an icy smile, a smile of
pure hatred, dread, and death so cold that it was enough to freeze one's blood.

	He opens the lid of the box.  Somewhere in the back of his mind a small
voice, perhaps it was what remained of the child and human in him, screamed
for him to stop.  He pushed the voice away.  The celebration will continue.

	The men see what is inside and run for the door, the window, or any
openings in the room.  He sees what the men are doing and is amused.  He
hasn't planned on using this but he has to be prepared.  He knows that the
power that they have tried to contain and control in him has awaken again
not long ago but he had refused to tell them or show them.  He hates to have
them put needles into him again.  He cannot stand to be contained anymore.
This small box is to be served as a back-up.  A back-up in case he cannot
unleash his power.  Either way, he figures, this will be a grand celebration.

	The men try desperately to push open the gates and windows but nothing will
budge.  He has planned it all- pre-programmed everything to close shut, and
putting up bolts and heavy locks on everything not controlled by machines.
He has to make sure that everyone is here today, for he wants everyone to
enjoy the celebration of his tenth year anniversary.  He would hate for
anyone to miss out on the occasion.

	He smiles again- this time, a genuine smile.  His face is so beautiful...
he seems like an angel, the angel of Death.  He mouthes the words "Happy
Aniversary" and throws the box and the white roses into the air.

	The men cry out in silent horror as the world before them explodes, turning
into a mass of red and black.  White flower petals dance and swirl in the
air, blood splatters on the floor, ceiling, walls and on to the rose petals.
The bright red blood and snow white roses make beautiful patterns; the red
glittering on the white like silver stars on a night sky.  The blood drops
falls, pouring like red rain onto the ground.  

	The force of the explosion destroyed everything within a ten mile radius.
He is thrown back by the force of the explosives and the power he has
unleashed, landing hard and feeling his bones break, shatter.  He feels
himself being torn apart again...  He opens his eyes after the explosion has
subsided, and stands up.  All he has suffered is a broken arm- no need to
worry.  He can take care of it easily.  He twists his left arm to bend it
back into shape, and revels in the beauty of pain.

	The debris of the lab, and the mechanical city flutters around him.  Body
parts strewn about everywhere.  He can't help but finds everything to be so
appropriate-  the burial, the final act.  He smiles the cold smile again.
He has enjoyed this celebration very much.  Maybe he will do it again...  

	He walks out of the city and toward the dying sun.  He is not human; he
knows that.  No human could have done such a deed.  But he had ceased to be
human long time ago.  They have turned him into death, and has met his own
touch in return.  The damage has long been done.

-----------------------------DAMAGE (END)-----------------------

   --Shuuichi Minamino
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  * "J'aurais                        "I would have wanted                 *
  *           voulu ne pas mourir.                not to die.             *
  *  J'aurais voulu                   I would have wanted                 *
  *           ne jamais grandir.                  never to grow up.       *
  *  J'aurais                         I would have                        *
  *           voulu me casser l'ame."           wanted to rend my soul."  *
  *                                                                       *
  *                ~Cirque Du Soleil                 ~Circus Of The Sun   *
  *~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
  *             http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Towers/2848                *
  *                  http://www.kurama.ranma.com                          *
   ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~