Origins - Adrian Angelo Savage

Age: 4 hours.

Adrian's tiny fingers curled and uncurled in the blanket of the hospital nursery bedding. His eyes glanced anxiously from cradle to cradle in a vain search for something he didn't quite know. A short while later, and after many failed attempts to roll himself over for a better look at the room, he let his head fall to the side and kept his icy gaze on the infant next to him.

He pawed at the transparent enclosure he was trapped in, staring across the short distance, longing for some sort of contact. He opened and closed his mouth, making a popping noise and some bubbles, before getting angry and starting to scream. It wasn't a baby's cry. There were no tears, no sadness or helplessness. It was pure anger.

Janet, the nurse who cared for the newborns until they were sent home, ran as quickly as her feet would allow to child, picking him up and rocking him slowly. "Shhh, you're all right."

The screaming child calmed quickly, his eyes closing slowly as he drifted back into a gentle sleep. When she felt it safe, Janet set him back in the cradle and sighed, deciding it was close enough to the right time to start checking each one. Adrian hadn't seemed hungry or dirty, so she moved on to the infant next to him.

"Oh my god…Michael!!" She scooped the bleeding infant into her arms and took off down the hall, trying as hard as she could to keep the little girl's head stable.

Blood dripped down the woman's body from the ears of the baby, who didn't seem to be conscious at all. Janet kicked down the door to Michael's office and set the baby down on his desk before collapsing to the floor to catch her breathe. the doctor looked curiously over the baby, turning her head to see where the blood originated from.

"Did anything happen before this? Anything at all? How did it catch your attention?" He mopped up the blood with his coat and cradled the child to get a closer look.

Janet gasped for breath before speaking, "The.. the Savage boy.. was screaming.."

"Adrian cries?"

"No.. " Michael gave her a stern yet confused look, telling her to get the story straight. "He wasn't crying, Mike, he was just yelling. Throwing a fit."

"Please move him to a separate and preferably sound-muffling room. And go check the others. Make sure none of them had this happen as well. Quickly now, before he starts screaming again."

Janet stood and looked to the baby girl in his arms.

"She'll be fine. Just go."

------------

Age: 6 years.

The sun beat down on the pavement, heating it to an intolerable degree. Summer had arrived and was as cruel as ever, the harsh heat forcing most to keep inside a cool house. Adrian, however, had no care about the temperature. His bare feet pattered along the sidewalk without any reaction at all. The other children watched in awe and tried to copy him, but all ended up running into the cool grass for relief.

Mid-day, after the other children were called home for lunch, Adrian stayed in his own backyard. He had found a wounded bird limping about in his mother's garden and had been watching it for some time with great intrigue. Finally, after the bird had gotten used to his presence and stopped trying to peck him, Adrian scooped it up into his palms and walked it to the kitchen where his mother had been watching. He held his outstretched arms to her so she could see the broken wing of the little creature.

"It hurted, Momma. It broked." The boy wiggled the bird's injured wing with his pinky finger, grinning all the while with no hint of compassion in his eyes.

She gave him a sad smile, taking he bird from him. "Yes it is, Adrian. Poor little thing…"

Adrian's smile faded as his mother carried the little bird to the sink, taking a clean washcloth and mopping gently at the matted feathers. The bird pecked softly at her fingers, a grateful gesture, before tucking it's head under it's unharmed wing. "Momma, I want," he said finally, his hands clenching then releasing again in a grabbing motion at the bird. "I wanna help!"

Debating, she looked to her husband who watched from the doorway. He gave a slight nod, curious as to his son's actions. Surrendering the frail creature to her child pained Devira, she was so afraid he would accidentally drop it and hurt it more. However when she saw the tight but careful hold he had on the bird, she smiled with relief.

"So little," he muttered. He knelt down and set the bird on the floor, lowering his chin to the linoleum to watch it.

"Adrian," his mother started, but was quickly stopped by her husband, who took her arm and shook his head.

The boy stood up and smiled to his mother, "I know how to help!"

At first she assumed maybe he was going to get the gauze and try to mend the wing, which she would have gladly assisted him with. Instead, she watched in horror as her child lifted his foot and brought his heel down swiftly onto the injured animal's head. Blood splattered across the floor, what leaked out of the bird's neck pooled around his shoes as a thick syrup mixing with the dirt he had dragged in from outside. What frightened Devira the most, what pained her out of the whole event, was Adrian's big smile, as if he had nothing but pride for what he had just done.

"Why would you do that?" She scolded, pulling him away from the mess. "Adrian, why?!"

His eyes widened at her fury, tears forming and falling down his cheeks. "I helped…" He bit his lip in an attempt to keep from crying but it was already too late, "I helped," he repeated.

Unable to stay angry with him, she pulled him into a hug and sighed. "No, Adrian."

"N-no..?" Adrian was heartbroken that his mother didn't approve.

Abby observed carefully while cleaning the mess as his wife tried to explain to the boy just what he had done wrong. How, with the proper tools that they could easily acquire, the bird would have been able to live, if not a normal life then at least as their pet. Yet, he couldn't understand. Was it not merciful to put the bird out of its misery? Did he not grant it a favor? How would keeping it alive in a cast be any better? Surely it would have wanted the less painful route…

------------

Age: 12 years

"Decorate it with things you think are beautiful," she had told him before going to work that morning. Adrian looked at the towering evergreen, wondering why it had to be decorated in the first place. It was dying, the tips of the green turning brown with each passing hour. It was beautiful on its own. Instead of questioning her, since it often led to that horrified look he hated to see, he nodded and started to pick through ornaments.

There were pretty things, out of several thousand trinkets there was bound to be, but nothing really caught his fancy. He had seen them all before, year after year on tree after tree. he was clueless as to how he should go about his new job, until he heard his father speaking on the phone to his mother (who had called because she left important documents and needed them dropped off soon).

"Huh? No, he hasn't started yet." There was a pause while his mother spoke. Abby laughed, "Hon, you know no one will be looking at that outfit when you have those gorgeous blue eyes."

It was then that the idea struck like lightning. He often heard people tell their significant others of their beauty. So, the human body itself was art? What better to put on a tree than another decaying piece of matter? And better, it would be easy to throw out, all biodegradable, like his  mother liked. Happily he ran outside soon after his father had left with the papers and started searching.

The playground near the house was the first stop. A little girl on a swing smiled and waved at him. Cute smile, but nothing striking. He passed over her with a nod and went on to the next. Girls, he found, were better. More often called pretty than a male. So he sought after a young woman, perhaps sixteen or seventeen.

He found a group chatting near a fountain in the city's park, yammering on about boys and their hair. With a grimace Adrian made way closer before actually having to press himself between the bodies to get into the center of the circle. They all looked at him and giggled. Two blondes.. no. A brunette, she wasn't bad but her eyes were too dark. His eyes scanned over the remaining few before falling on one who looked very different. She had deep brown hair, but other colors were incorporated in streaks. blue and green, mainly, with a bit of purple.

He smiled sweetly and tugged her shirt. "I'm lost…"

She smiled back, taking his hand in hers, "You guys go ahead, I'm gonna help him find his way." Her attention turned back to Adrian, "You're the Savage's boy, aren't you? You're a long way from home. Are you here with them?"

He shook his head.

"Oh, well then let's get you to your house then," she pulled him along swiftly, not wanting to miss her day out with her friends.

If only she knew, Adrian snickered as she reached the front steps of his home. She opened the door and was suddenly shoved inside, the door slamming and locking behind her…

~~

Devira came home that night with a bright look in her eyes. She had closed a deal of some sort, that was all Adrian cared to understand of it. He wanted her to see his beautiful tree. Abby, who had stayed with her that day to help, went straight to bed saying he would look in the morning.

Adrian tugged his mother down the hallway, making the left turn into the living room. "Look, Mom! It's beautiful!"

She dropped the folders in her arms and stared in fear at the tree. Several pieces of.. something.. were strung from the limbs. Meat, it looked like. And intestine.. wrapped as tinsel? She shook her head, not able to believe her eyes.

Her boy's smile faded as it always did, knowing now that she would never be pleased with him. "Mom, she was pretty… I.. I used her liver and lungs and kidneys and stuff.. I had to cut them up because they were too big, but it's beautiful, right? And see the heart at the very top? I used her hair too, it had pretty colors, it had blue…" he gave up seeing the tears in her eyes.

His heart stung with pain as she spoke to Abby in the kitchen. She made no attempt to keep her voice down. She wanted him sent away… She wanted him gone. She had mentioned something about a hospital, something about Michael being able to help?

How..?

Adrian shuffled into the kitchen, cheeks red from rubbing the tears away, and hugged his mother. "Please don't make me go. I'll be good.. I promise.."