Blood Like Ice

Prague, Czechoslovakia- 1959

The glass cocoon was cold to the touch, condensation forming on the outer shell. Inside, the creature that previously would have warmed its prison hung limp, eyes blank, dead- though not in a literal sense -mouth slack with the thick, serpentine tongue lolling down one side much like a cartoon caricature. Joachim Karel found himself sneering in disgust, watching his failed creation in silence. He felt a palpable anger stir in his chest- this attempt could have worked, should have worked. Everything had been done correctly.

Turning on one foot, he cast a glare in the direction of his scientist aides. They stood in a row, much like soldiers, faces blank- oh, but they were afraid, he could feel it, could smell it on them, the putrid stench of their terror suffocating him.

"I assume there is some sort of explanation for this disaster?" he growled.

The second of the three's hands began to shake almost imperceptibly as he stepped forward. "I-if I may say, sir, you most likely would not have wanted to keep the specimen fully alive; it was far underdeveloped- it would h-have functioned similar to a snake, nothing more."

A snake. How ironic. "I asked for explanations, not excuses!" He took two wide steps toward the group.

One of them stumbled over his own feet as he backed away, a small whimper escaping his mouth. "The DNA! It was...it was dead to begin with!"

This made Karel stop, brow knit in confusion and anger. "How could that be? The Watcher was brought from Turkey whole."

"It wasn't...completely dead, of course not. The Watcher's body was remarkably well preserved. But trying to manufacture something new using DNA that far gone...it's like building a brick house without using mortar. It just doesn't work."

"Why?"

"Certain living tissues rejected the introduced DNA- namely the human ones. It... refused to grow any further. Trying to function with that little brain power…it suffered a massive trauma and shut itself down."

"...leave."

"Sir?"

"Leave!" he shouted, losing his composure for the briefest of seconds as he once again took a threatening step in their direction, his eyes flashing red. Immediately they obeyed, all three hurrying from the room and closing the door firmly behind themselves.

Karel pivoted to face his work once more- his work, The Great Work, the goal of every Nephilim still walking the earth, fearful of lashing out, hiding secrets behind eyes flecked with crimson. The expression on the creature's face, one that would be comical if not for the grotesque appearance of its features, seemed to mock him, insulting his efforts.

He released a steady breath through his nose, lifted his gloved hands to smooth down the stray blonde hairs that had come loose during his outburst. Though gratifying, getting angry with his aides would not help the situation in any way, nor would killing them, as his hands itched to do.

For the shortest of moments, he allowed his appearance to waver, to lose some of its perfect façade. Ridges and scars, unrelated to the runes of his archaic midway form, appeared on his jaw, the larger ones cutting a path through his mouth and eyes, these still painful even years later- though only in memories that cut their paths through his mind much like the claws that had inflicted the physical malformations. His own claws. The claws of a desperate, scared young boy, digging deeper and deeper into the skin in despair.

Joachim shook his head to lock away the memories once more, and in that brief second every semblance of his race disappeared, leaving an unreadable expression in its wake.

"One of you, back inside!" he called, turning to face the entryway.

A single scientist edged back through a crack in the door, standing as straight as he could manage, trying to appear confident. "Yes, sir?"

"Logically," Karel murmured, eyes cast to the floor as he considered his hypothesis, "if we fuse living Nephilic DNA with an already growing fetus...would it not bond? Or would the white blood cells attack the new matter?"

His aide considered this for a moment. "...in theory...introduced early enough, the DNA would be indistinguishable from the normal counterpart- not to mention the Nephilic DNA is a 'cousin' of sorts to human DNA, close in it's makeup...it's never been attempted. I couldn't say, really."

"But it’s worth an attempt.”

"I...suppose. You give the word and we'll try, sir. Though I don't know where we could acquire a living fetus unwanted by the parent. Not to mention where we'd acquire living Nephilim plasma; it is completely different from the pure angelic DNA we've been working with, it may be 'diluted' by the…the ‘humanity’ of it, for lack of a better word-"

Karel smiled. "Search through company records for those seeking maternity leave in the coming months. Approach her, offer a...considerable sum as a bonus in exchange for her participation in an 'experiment'- that would not cause any harm to her unborn baby, of course." An eyebrow raised in suggestion, he added, "As for the DNA, leave that up to me."

Nodding, the man started back toward the exit. "Wait..." Karel called after him. The man stopped.

"...keep this brain-dead specimen. It is still alive, is it not?"

"Well…yes, in a way…if I may inquire, sir, why? It's worthless." He appeared confused. Karel looked in the direction of his creation.

"This new endeavour will be between myself and you three aides. Meister Eckhardt is not to be told...on penalty of death. In fact, he is to be kept in the dark on purpose, this creature acting as a blinder to our…independent actions. You understand all that entails, I assume?"

The aide kept silent, merely nodded and took his leave. Karel waited until the only sound in the room was the dim hum of the life support machines, and released an excited breath. This should have occurred to me sooner. No matter.

He crossed to the examination tables near the cocoon and retrieved a syringe from the group of tools laying on a silver cart, tools for surgery- or considerably more dangerous procedures.

The form he was inhabiting wavered and flashed back to his natural state, silver hair growing longer to hang over his blackened eyes, fingernails extending into razor sharp points. He felt his incisors bite into his lower lip as the teeth turned triangular, drawing blue tinged blood that flowed warmly into his throat.

Careful not to damage the leather of his jacket, Karel drew the sleeve up to the elbow, the dress shirt beneath following. The grey skin underneath was stretched taught over blue veins that bulged with the pressure caused by the fist his hand had formed, the sleeves of his clothing acting as a band to cut off the circulation.

He bit the cap off the syringe and inserted the point into his arm, blinking as it entered the vein but otherwise giving no indication that it had bothered him. He drew the stopper back slowly, watching the iridescent liquid swirl in shimmering patterns as it flowed into the glass tube. Confident there was enough, he pulled it from his arm and replaced the cap.

"My apologies," he whispered to the silence, addressing a seemingly absent figure. "Carpe diem, fallen one, carpe diem."