The Supernaturalist

The Preface
"The Supernaturalists"1

Five years. I’ve been in this place five years, and they’re still not any closer to finding “the cure” than they were before.
Before what, you ask? Who knows. Before I arrived. Before they created Kul Elna. Before.2

As far as they’re concerned, I’ve done my duty. They know what I’m capable of, and why I’m capable of it. They understand how I’m capable of it, and when I’m capable of it—but the big question, the one of ‘before’ … where does the capability come from? How can they become capable too?
Five years and beyond they’ve been delving into genetics, observing this strand of DNA, recording this sequence of RNA … I don’t know, it’s all over my head, really. From what I understand, they are trying to isolate the lone gene that is responsible for what we can do—the one little ACTG progression that makes us different from everybody else. 3

I use the plural first-person, in case you’re wondering, because I am not the only person capable of things—oh, no. There are many of us out there, hiding behind the façades of normality, all around the world. Supernaturalists, they call us. Damned, I call us.4

For no matter how good your façade is … no matter how skilled you are at playing pretend … you can’t hide from them. The who’s, the what’s and where’s—it doesn’t matter to them. They are the ultimate seekers in the world’s largest game of hide-and-seek; a game that we Supernaturalists are loosing. We can’t hide from them. We can’t run, we can’t remain invisible—they will find us. They will find us and they will bring us to Kul Elna.5

They already have.6

I’ve been in this place five years.7

For I am a Damned.8

The Prologue
"An Introduction to the First Character"9

There isn’t much for me to do in Kul Elna anymore. Not that there was ever much to do, before—but less so, now that my purpose here has run its course. Now the four walls that surround me every hour of every day seem less like the walls of a junior-high science lab, and more like the walls of a prison cell. In truth, that is exactly what they are; four walls meant to keep me within them forever—or at least until I die. 10

I remember what life had been like in Kul Elna when I first arrived. Doctors and scientists always in and out of my cell; taking blood samples and tissue samples and giving me all sorts of tests … Before I was used to the poking and prodding and the extraction of bodily tissues, I would often get terribly sick and was prone to fainting for numerous hours at a time. And, of course, the side-effects—the ones you got from taking “the medicine,” as they called it … never have I ever felt pain quite like the pain from “the medicine.” Never had I experienced true aching. I’ll never forget those first few months here, as long as I live. Neither will the doctors, I think, from that time—some of them might still be half-deaf, from my screaming.11

As time went by, I noticed that the scientists visited me less and less often, while my data sheets became more and more complete—by the beginning of my third year, the last box had been filled in and my last B&T (Blood and Tissue) Extraction had been taken, leaving me suddenly pushed aside and forgotten. The scientists moved on to fresher, more exciting Supernaturalists, and I was left to rot where I was, like a child’s plaything that had been broken and tossed aside. 12

The past couple of years have gone by incredibly slowly. Most of the time I do nothing but twiddle my thumbs and bide my time; waiting for the day I can finally be free of this place. A life-sentence in hell given to me without trial, due-process, without justice. Given to me for being different. For being a freak of humanity. For being me.13

But they can’t keep me here forever. One day, I’ll escape this place, and finally go home to where I belong. One day, I will once again taste the delicious air of freedom …