Mark of the Rising Sun

I opened my eyes to find myself to some unknown wall. It was dark, but there were flickers of light all around me. I took a moment to take in my surroundings. I was chained to a cliff edge and could see down to the valley below. It was the most horrible thing I had ever seen. The land was torn and scarred. Everything living had been burned away leaving a desolate emptiness where fertile land had once ruled. The sources of the lights were fires burning here and there, the flames eating away at whatever had managed to survive the initial assault.

The way I was chained up, I couldn’t see too much to the sides of me, but I looked tried to see around me anyways. To either side were other figures, chained like me, indistinct in the dim light. There were four of us all together, and from what I could see, the other three were motionless. The only sign of life were from them being the expanding and contracting of their chests.

I tried calling out to them, but my throat was too parched. The heat around me drained all moisture and left me drier than a well at the end of a draught. I couldn’t build up even the slightest bit of saliva. My lips were dried and cracked, and the pain was unbearable.

I don’t know how long I hung there before a noise drew my attention to the ground down below. Several men, a couple of women, and a child were herded across the desert landscape by creatures whose features, I could not make out. It was as if the creatures were made of shadows themselves. They were relentless in their march, pushing stragglers forward even though they were too weak to move at more than a crawl.

As I watched, one of the men, an older one by the looks of it, fell to his knees. The others tried to help him up quickly and move him on, but it was a hopeless cause. The man had nothing left to give. One of the shadow creatures grabbed the man and twisted his head around, breaking his neck and killing him in one smooth motion.

I let out a silent scream, unable to make even a croak. The creatures shouldn’t have known, couldn’t have heard anything, but their heads snapped up to me. Horror filled me as one of the foul creatures broke away, and with amazing speed, covered the long distance between us. I couldn’t run or hide, couldn’t even turn my eyes from this abomination. Up close, he smelled horrible like a mixture of rotted flesh and manure. I realized he was wearing a black cloak to conceal his features.

I knew what would come next, and wanted with all my strength to close my eyes. My body would not cooperate though, and I stared transfixed as the creature slowly raised its clawed hands up to the hood covering its face. With methodical determination, the creature lowered the hood to reveal the true horror within. As I opened my mouth to scream, darkness enveloped me.

I woke up suddenly, shooting out of bed, a shrill scream tearing me from my nightmare. It took me a moment to realize that I had had a dream, and that I was not really chained up somewhere while the world fell apart around me. I was soaked from all the sweating I had done, and my breathing was heavy. I could still smell the lingering odor of decay that soon wafted away. I could still feel the heat from that horrible land.

It took me several moments to compose myself before I could take in my surroundings. When I did, I found myself in a standard hospital room. There was just one bed, and lots of medical equipment that I don’t know the name or functions of. What surprised me most was that it was not the room I had had at the CDC, but a new room in a regular hospital. Then I looked down and screamed. My body was that of a little girl. What had happened? Last I remembered, I was waiting my eventual death from the bacterial infection.

A nurse came running in at the sound of my screams, and held me until I calmed down. Then she asked, “Bad dreams?”

I shook my head, and then nodded, “Yes and no, what happened to me?”

She hesitated before replying, “There was an accident. You and your parents were in a car when it careened off the road and crashed into a tree. You got a bump on the head, but nothing serious.”

This confused me, but I had to ask, “What about my parents?”

From the look on her face, I could read the answer before she spoke. “They didn’t make it, they were both killed instantly.”

I let that sink in for a moment. “But how am I a little girl? What happened with the bacteria? What happened to me?” I was scared, confused, and rather shaken.

The nurse held me again, “You poor thing, you must be confused after the crash. You have always been a little girl. There was no bacterium, you are fine.”

I wanted to believe her, I really did, but the memories were too vivid, too clear. “But I’m Anthony, a 31 year old male. What you’re saying can’t be true.”

“Your birth certificate and file say other words. Angela Green, age nine. It was the worst time for an accident, on your birthday of all days.”

I realized what was going on now. This was a government cover-up. The bacteria had changed me, and now they were changing my life to fit the new me. Shock coursed through me, I needed a moment to think and clear my head. I nodded, “Sorry, I must still be woozy from the crash. It’ll come back.”

She hugged me closer, “That’s the spirit. Now I’ll get the doctor to check on you.” She left me alone. I took the time to check myself in the mirror. I had really changed. I was much younger, my body was different and I was definitely female. This was going to be hard. At least I hadn’t hit puberty yet. I decided to play along and get answers later.

When the doctor showed up, he started checking for signs of a concussion, or other serious injuries that were missed with the original check. We talked for awhile and I gave short replies. When questions came up, I said I didn’t remember much. He decided that I had slight amnesia, and my memory would come back in time.

After finding nothing physically wrong with me, he led me out of the room and down some hallways. Curious, I asked, “So what happens to me now?”

The doctor shrugged, “We checked your information. Your parents have no living relatives. We have someone coming from child services to pick you up. You will probably be put in a foster home and put up for adoption.” I nodded. They wanted to get me out of the way, keep me quiet. I would play their game for now.

As we entered the lobby, a newspaper caught my eye. It wasn’t a story or the funnies that got my attention, it was the date. October 16, 2020. I had lost four years of my life. How could the government do this? I didn’t even think they had the technology. I would make them pay. I would dig at their phony story until I learned the truth. I would not be denied.

I lost myself in my thoughts for a long time. I didn’t even notice as I was taken away by a friendly enough woman, or when she drove me to a home a few miles away. I was becoming obsessed with uncovering the government plot. All I needed was some proof, and I would stop at nothing to get it.

A cheerful voice broke me out of my reverie. I looked up to see a bubbly woman looking down at me. Her cheery mood was contagious, and I soon left my troubled thoughts behind, for now. She and her husband had agreed to take me in temporarily while they found a more permanent home for me. She asked me all kinds of questions that I had a hard time coming up with answers to. None of which were true. Luckily, she bought the amnesia story and didn’t pester me too much.

I was the only child living there at the time so I had a room to myself. My “things” were brought up from what was supposed to be my old house. Oddly enough though, most of the items still had tags on them. It was mostly clothes with a few toys mixed in. It was rather sketchy to say the least. No questions were asked, and I am not one to complain about free stuff, even if they are for girls. When in Rome you know.

The man was a lot more serious than the woman was, but he was still kind and treated me with respect. They quickly realized that I was not in the mood to talk, and we passed the rest of the day without much interaction. At some point, I was tucked into bed, and even received a bedtime story, before I was left alone to my thoughts again. I thought I would be up forever with all the stuff I had to focus on, but I only lasted about 5 minutes before falling asleep.

That night I had the nightmare again. It was the same one as before, just as gruesome and realistic. The only difference was this time I knew what to expect. Of course knowing, and knowing how to change anything are two different things. No matter how hard I struggled, the old man died, I screamed, and the foul creature unmasked itself. Again, I woke to the sound of my own screams and soaked through with sweat.