Darkness. Light. Oblivion. Life. Cells spin like universes. Explode like suns. Chaos become order. Formlessness... becomes form. The urge to know rises from silence. Becomes a shout of being that echos into consciousness. There are no words, there is no language; but if this evolving creature could speak it, it would ask one simple question:

"Who am I?"

Its answer lies in dreams. Dreams of life still to unfold; and yet- paradoxically – a life already lived. Faces. Places. Emotions. Events. A Collage of sounds and images, drifting everywhere. If it could only reach out that tiny hand, it could hold them, absorb them, understand them. But each time the wave of understanding recedes into darkness. Each time... He is alone again.

He? Yes. A sense of maleness, of sexual identity, forms- and with it, a surge of power that elates him. How fast he grows- weaving the web of self! There is no time here in this dark world he inhabits, yet he seems somehow to be moving forward with unbelievable speed... As if rushing headlong, toward an extraordinary destiny. Toward an answer to the first question. The only question:

Who Am I? Asks he, as he gets a blinding pain in his eyes, as he squints to try and focus his sight, and as his lungs burn like a fire for the first time. Trying to find himself, trying to get to his unsteady feet, he tries to get acclimated to his surroundings. Clumsy and awkward, which seems familiar, yet distant, he claims his balance on the side of the chemical tank. What breaks the concentration is one voice that cuts the silence.

"Take it easy, little one. Take your time. You've got your whole life ahead of you." As he focuses on the voice, he sees a middle aged, bespectacled man. Brownish-grey hair and moustache, with a suit that gave an air of professionalism, this person reaches over and grabs something on the counter that he hands over to the male who managed to climb out of the tank groggily. But as the man handed over a pair of pants to cover up.

"Come now, little Peter, let me help you" This man seemed familiar. Comfort, but it is confusing. This person seems warm, like the little one wants to please, but part of him wanted to run. "No need to be afraid, I won't ever hurt you." A very warm person, but the calm seemed to melt away. The exhausting grogginess in his muscles firing up through his spinal cord, it looked like the background of the laboratory melted away, as a haziness took over, and as everything melted away, the one called Peter looked over at the warm, paternalistic man, and saw him melting.

As he looked at this man in horror, he saw the skin melt from his bones, as if he were sweating it off. The recently birthed one was trying to back away, despite all the fatigue in his being, observing this fearsome image, as he heard the man warmly and calmly telling him something.

"Come now... no need to be frightened. I won't hurt you..." He says as he reaches over to his creation, as the worn out creature reached for his hand, but as the face melted off, it wasn't bones but a green face underneath the pale pink skinned face. A green horror was under the melted face that seemed to cackle and finished the sentence. "... For I will always be there for you!"

Shock jolted the creature awake, as he looked around to see a small cell, as he was lying on the bench, for an eternity. On odd occasions he would come out for experiments, and tests, as well as torment, torture... Time was an illusion. It was hard to tell how long he was in that cell. Sitting in that corner, on top of the solid bench. It was too small to really stretch, and the bench was the only thing in there aside this poor tormented creature. Anger, fear, longing, and even sympathy was all he seemed to know. Even with the experiments and tests that were run, at times, this man who called himself Miles Warren, a doctor, treated him with some unexpected warmth, but most of the time, the reaction was akin to their first meeting... or was it their first meeting?

The creature was not sure. Although he was called Peter by the Doctor. Sometimes as he dreamt he saw this creature... this Jackal that would torment him. Taunting him, teasing him, like a child poking at an animal in a cage with a stick. Sometimes he dreamt about a life that seemed familiar, but was in tatters.

There was one name that sounded familiar. Gwen Stacy. That name was often mentioned. A warm sensation, followed by a pang was the initial reaction, but the one thing that he remembered was a bridge. The time he remembered that, was followed by one of the more savage tortures, as the horror did not finish with unconsciousness. It finished with the nightmares of Jackal.

As the creature stitched his memories, or what seemed like pieces of his memories, he finally recalled another being that issued him comfort and love. There were memories, of vivid red fire. Not fire... but hair... vivid fire red hair. The face was blurred out... but the feeling was peaceful.

The sound of the doors opening, to a new day... or was it night? It was hard to tell... of unpredictable torture came by with Miles coming in through the doorway.

"Come. More tests to be done, my little friend." He came across as gentle, but there was that venom behind it. Which meant it was going to be bloody, and painful. That familiar buzzing in the creature's head was going off. Dragging the clone to the laboratory, everything was sanitized, clean, and ready for a new day. The table with the restraints seemed ready. The computers were on, and ready to take measurements. The creature looked on in horror.

"Come over here Peter." The older man ordered. His face then dropped the gentle demeanour to reveal the growl in his voice. The pitiful hate and venom that needed mercy and sympathy... no... The creature's head was now buzzing as the good doctor started to march forward with a familiar gadget that put him in line every time. But this time, the creature objected.

"No... No! No more!" As the impulses, and the adrenaline poured through the creature's body, he reached over, and picked up the desk next to him, and in one quick motion, tossing it forward at Miles, dropping everything that was on the surface. Dashing to the side, which seemed very much familiar to him, he rushed down a hallway, ignoring the multitudes of doors to various sanitized cells or rooms, he didn't care. As he came to a last door, an instinct overwhelmed him.

Throwing his fist at the door, it budged a little, but stayed in tact. Tendons gripping, neurons firing, the fists firing repetitively at the door, who turned to splinters.

What was inside this room was unexpected. The creature noticed the bright colours, of what revealed to be a baby room. This was familiar. The crib, the changing station... Very much detailed, that would calm him. But he heard something from the room that would cause him to dash out. He heard that familiar cackle that followed him wherever he went.

Dashing out, he would try to outrun the laughter. He opened another door to hide in, and found another bedroom. It was warm and welcoming. His foot stepped on something that crunched under him, as he tripped forward, and as he looked back, he saw he stepped and broke a toy car. He looked around to truly notice the bed, the dresser, and many familiar posters that decorated the bedroom that gave a nice warm feeling of a young child that may not have cleaned up. Looking at the bed, a familiar stuffed friend greeted the creature that got himself up.

Peter observed the stuffed bear for a moment, and greeted with a hug. He then hears a familiar voice.

"Awww... that's so sweet... I love you too! I wouldn't be me without you!" As the creature looks at his stuffed friend, only to notice the bear's face was no longer there, but was of a familiar green fiend.

Dropping his former best friend, this being known as Peter dashed out to escape the nightmare. Turning into another room, and closing it behind him, to breathe out the adrenaline, as he sweated out the stress, as he looked around.

Another familiar bedroom, it seemed like a safe place. Beakers on the desk, even the poster of Albert Einstein seemed very warm and safe. But as he approached the desk, there was a picture. It had a young man, and a blond woman that seem to calm him, but a wave of shame and guilt overcame him. His reverie was cut short as he heard the echoing laughter of a familiar night fiend that haunted his nightmares.

Quickly, the helpless creature, wished for a suit of armour, or costume, but all he had, was his pyjamas, that he wore earlier, quickly ducked under the bed, fearful of what was hunting him. He heard the door open, and a pair of green, ugly legs walk in.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, little spider? Where are you? In the closet? Don't you know? Only monsters are in the closet! Well, that and gays, but you aren't the type to come out of the closet!" The Monster commented and joked. He pretended to look all over the room.

Bump. Bump. Bump. The creature under the bed's heart thumped hard in his chest. Praying that this boogieman would go away, as things go quiet, a little bit of relief get over the pitiful frightened one hiding under the bed.

"PEEKABOO!" A Green face showed itself as he looked under the bed with that sadistic toothed grin that would haunt endless nightmares, with his long claws reaching towards the pitiful little ball that wanted the safety of peace, that would eternally be denied to him.

Pulled out from under the bed by this ugly nightmare, adrenaline and fear is overtaking him.

"Oh boy! What a fun game of Hide and go Seek! Your turn to count to ten and find me!" The cackling sounding cheerful, holding Peter by the arm, tormenting him.

But as this Jackal mocked and tormented him with that echoing laughter, the creature that was created threw a punch that caught the nightmare off guard. For a monster that seemed so strong, he reeled from the fist that was thrown.

"Oh! A love tap! Like they say, bears say they love each other with a slap! Or a punch but who's counting?" was the mockery, before the green monster was wailed upon by his victim. Punch after punch after punch, as the creature trying to fight off his oppressor, shouting a cry, of trying to ascertain his identity.

"I... am.. Human! I AM HUMAN!" Was shouted after every punch, only to get the one fist caught by this vile fell demon, that grinned his toothy grin.

"And so you are..." With a knowing gleam in his eye, prepared for another game of torture, another game of cat and mouse. As the laughter was started, the creature that was fighting off this monster, threw the other fist, that threw him into the furniture around them, only for the Peter creature to dash out the room, hoping to find his freedom, his forbidden vice, just out of grasp.