Lightning splits the dark and dismal night sky. Rain pours down on the foul and trash filled brick lined streets of New London. Step after step, a man runs through its’ back alleys. Fear, panic, and rain pouring down his face as he runs until he comes face to face with his deepest fear in that moment. A dead end.

A man shrouded in darkness stands in the opposite way. Blocking his path. “Return my property Thomas.” The Shadowy man beckons as he slowly inches toward him. Step by step. Closing in on him, Thomas is trapped. He lunges forward like any cornered animal would.

A lengthy fight would break out if the air wasn’t cut with the sickening and ear ringing crack of the six shot pistol in the mans’ hand. Swirls of red mix with the rain as Thomas’ life flashes on that cold hard ground.

The man in shadow, rummages through thomas’ person. “He doesn’t have it. Where is it, Thomas?!” he says as he smacks his blood covered hands across Thomas’ face.

“Far from here. You will never have it and it dies with me. Rot in hell Pearson.” At that moment, he is free. Thomas smiles for the first time in a long time knowing that he did something decent in the end. Fading from this world as Pearsons’ screams and assault on his body fade and there is peace.

Thomas floats in a void, aware but also not. He remarks that this is not the afterlife he imagined but it beats the bad ones he has heard of. His peace is interrupted as a blinding light and searing pain fills his body. The void fades as his vision returns. 

“Mark this day my assistant! The day that Doctor Neron has created life!” 

His vision clears as he comes to. The man announced his arrogance shouting to a wooden bust wearing a pair of glasses with ‘assistant’ written across its forehead. Scanning the room, Thomas finds himself in a run down laboratory and in its center is himself strapped to a table.

Rage filled his head and in a swift movement, Thomas tears himself from his restraints. Before he can even react, Thomas grabs the doctor and slams him onto the table. “What is going on? What did you do to me?”

“Oh my! You can already talk! That is remarkable. I brought you to life my boy. You were killed in a mugging gone wrong and your body was donated to the Stein Foundation. Your body was pretty messed up so I was allowed to run a special test on you and it worked!”

Releasing his grip, “The Stein Foundation. My head is still a bit fuzzy, what is that?”

Wiping off his coat, the doc sits up, “It’s a government run foundation that took the research and experiments of Doctor Victor Frankenstein and has spent the last few generations adapting and improving the process. You are a third gen. Bolter. Basically, that means that you are as human as we can get right now but I changed the process.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas says as he sits next to him.

“Like I said before, you were in a sorry state when you arrived so I attempted to use non-human body parts to repair you.” the doc says with a massive proud smile.

“Non-human? Like pigs and stuff?”

“Ha! No.” he points to Thomas’ chest. “Heart of a vampire.” he points to his arm, “A Changemans arm.” points to his blood red eyes, “Eyes of the Mothman and so on.”

“So I am a monsters’ monster.” 

The doc looks him up and down, “immediate reaction aside, you are taking this very well.”

Thomas stares at his hands, “My memory is foggy and I can barely recall anything about myself aside from my name and a single face. The man who killed me, I believe.”

The doc holds out his hand, “I am Doctor Neron.” Thomas meets his hand and shakes it firmly. “I am Thomas.” the Doc smiles warmly, “a pleasure to meet you Thomas. Now follow me.” he says as he hops off the table.

“Where are we going?” Thomas says as he hops off as well. 

“The roof! Lets’ get some fresh air in your lungs.”

Following him around his winding shelves full of copper, glass, and ticking equipment. Leading him to the back where a narrow circular black steel staircase swirls up to a heavy wooden door. The Doc pushes it open and a cold gust of wind blows into the lab and blinding light. The door leads to a well sized brick and stone patio looking out to a beautiful morning sky and a bustling city. 

All the beauty and joy sinks from Thomas’ face as he points to a passing airship. On its side, the portrait of a man.

“What is it, Thomas?” The Doc says with genuine concern.

“It’s him. My murderer.” pointing at the airship.

The Docs’ eyes widened, “That is a problem.”

“Why?” Thomas says as he lowers his hand.

“That is Jacob Pearson. Mayor of New London and President of the Stein Foundation.”