Standard Disclaimer: I disclaim the notion that I have any standards. Oh, and I don't own any of these characters either.

Prodigy

Chapter 1 - Genesis

From the personal files of Dr. Domovoi Troskey:

In the English language the words "brain" and "mind" are interchangeable, each meaning basically the same thing. I, however, believe differently. I believe that, though the brain and mind inhabit the same space, they are, in fact, entirely different from each other. It is my theory that the mind is what controls involuntary reactions, such as breathing and heartbeat, while the brain is merely the tool used to communicate with the body.

This would explain the human organism's ability to control the brain, to think and ponder what they want, and its total lack of control over the mind. I believe that someone who was in complete control of their mind would be able to do any number of amazing things. When a bone is broken the mind registers this and sends a signal to the nerve endings around the break, causing pain as a warning to the organism. Someone in control of their mind could presumably, having received the warning, then stop the mind from sending the signals, eliminating the pain reaction.

I think that fire-walkers and other such practices are evidence of partial mind control. I also believe that psychic, telekinetic, and precognitive phenomena are also linked to control of the mind. I intend to prove my theory by studying brain waves. Perhaps, like the brain, the mind sends out some form of energy signature. By studying brain waves, I believe I can find the mind's "frequency" as it were. Once found, these "mind waves" can be measured and, perhaps, even manipulated. Who knows, perhaps we could create the very mysteries that baffle us now.

My first memory is feeling a dull buzz at the base of my skull. A constant tingle that slowly crawled its way around my brain, squeezing as it grew in volume. Pain shot through my body and I was suddenly aware of my breathing again, and of the cold metal table underneath me. I wanted to sit up and open my eyes, but the buzzing continued to gain in volume, becoming a deafening roar between my ears. My limbs began to convulse, curling me up into a fetal position on the table.

Through the roar I heard voices. They were panicked and excited at the same time. One kept asking what I had been given while another kept insisting that it was nothing but ordinary anesthesia. The last voice I heard shouted up over the others, realization and fear giving it a manic edge.

"It's a short. We gotta..." the words were cut off by an explosion in my brain. The roaring gave a final squeeze and then released, shooting outwards, making me feel like an airbag had suddenly blown open inside my skull and there wasn't enough room for it. I think I screamed.

I may have slipped back into unconsciousness after that, I can't be too certain, but I finally opened my eyes only to shut them again against the glare of the ultraviolet light above me. I rolled onto my side, facing away from the light and tried again. This time I kept my eyes open, looking around at where I was. It looked like a hospital room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all the same antiseptic white and there were several metal operating tables along the wall. High-tech instruments were everywhere, beeping and whirring to each other.

I was so busy looking at the room's contents, that it was a couple minutes before I noticed that the area around my table was a mess. Machines were toppled, tubes and vials were shattered, and four men in white lab coats and masks lay on the floor. I tried to remember what was going on and why I was here, but nothing was coming. I started feeling sick when I realized I didn't remember my own name. And it only worsened as I tried to think of anything or anyone I used to know, only to find that my first and only memory was just two minutes ago when I had woken up on this table. Heck, I didn't even remember what gender I was.

At least the latter problem was easily remedied with a quick look at my body. My chest pretty much confirmed it, but I made a quick feel of my crotch just to be sure. Yep, definitely female. Other than that, however; nada. You'd think I would be more upset by this, but what can I say? Sure, I was panicked; I just woke up in a hospital room with no memories and four doctors who could be dead for all I know. But when all you've got is nothing, lying down and crying just doesn't seem all that important. Besides, I wanted to see what I looked like.

It's a very strange feeling; being no one. I felt worried and scared, but the main emotion was curiosity. I wanted to know how tall I was, what nationality, my weight, my eye color, hair color, skin tone, etc. You can't imagine how annoying it is to know absolutely nothing about yourself. And who knew, maybe seeing my face would jog my memories (if I had any, that is). I stumbled a little as I pulled myself off the table. My legs felt wobbly and my head was still tingling slightly. I leaned on the table for a minute until I felt a little more confident that I could stand, and then went looking for a mirror of some kind. My search ended with a smooth, polished metal tray. Holding it out in front of me, I took what could be my first look at my face.

Correction; what there was of my face. I'll admit, I was slightly alarmed when I saw the state of it. Nothing too gruesome, but still not a comforting sight. My head was shaved, only the barest hint of fuzz could be seen. Several needle marks were visible around my cranium. My left eye was bruised and slightly swelled, the eyeball itself was tinted red from bleeding. Another bruise marred the right side of my face, and a bandage had been taped to the right side of my head, just above my ear.

One of the really concerning things, however, was the blood. I wasn't bleeding at the moment, but I could see where it had dripped from my nose, the corners of my eyes, and even out of my ears. A faint taste of copper told me that my mouth had also recently seen similar conditions. Red drops stained the front of the shoulder strap, white undershirt I had on, showing where the blood had dripped from my face. The gray sweatpants I wore seemed too big for me, but had been tied tightly around my waist. Other than that, I seemed to be about average height, rather thin, not flat chested, but far from voluptuous, and I estimated my age to be around late teens, though with the bruising and bandages it was hard to tell. There were also a couple bandages on my arms and one wrapped around my stomach. This place may look like a hospital, but my current condition didn't make it seem like they had my best health in mind.

A noise from outside the door made me jump. Still wary of my situation, I scurried over to something that looked like a CT scan machine and squeezed behind it. No sooner had I hidden myself than the door opened and I heard someone enter. Their footsteps sounded heavy, like they were wearing boots.

"...re doing some testing on her and the security camera just blanked out," one was saying as they came through the door. Any reply his companion might have made was cut off, presumably by the sight of the destruction in the center of the room.

"Check those two," the sound of their steps quickened as they rushed over to the fallen doctors. There was a brief moment of silence as they looked them over. "These two are gone. Looks like they hit this wall head first. Necks snapped. What about them?"

"They hit pretty hard, but I think they're okay. Still breathing anyway." It sounded like they started sifting through the wreckage after that. The sounds of metal tables and fallen computer monitors persisted for awhile before one of them finally spoke up again.

"Where's the girl?"

"Must've already run. Better tell everyone to start searching."

"I thought all the subjects were being processed in the Ottawa base."

"That's the main one. This was a pet project of the doc's. She had a...." the conversation faded away as the two exited the room. I waited several minutes after hearing the door close and crawled out of my hiding place. Subjects? Pet project? This was sounding less and less like a normal hospital. For a little while I was frozen with indecision. What should I do? I knew what I wanted to do. Find out who I was and what was going on around here, but I didn't have the slightest clue how to go about it.

Finally I happened to notice a bank of computers on the far end of the room. That's what I needed. Computers know everything, if you know how to ask them. Unfortunately, I didn't. The first three computers were not logged on and a password was required to do so. Luckily, one machine had been left on and ready to use, thanks to someone being in the middle of a game of solitaire. I clicked around somewhat aimlessly, looking for anything about patient lists or admissions.

I eventually came across a layout of the building and found one room labeled "Residents' Files". It was located a floor below me and the elevator was a good two or three rooms away. Just my luck. I took a minute to look over the map again, trying to memorize the route, and then made my way to the door. Listening carefully for any footsteps outside, I slowly slid it open a crack and peeked out. I could hear the sounds of people running about in other rooms, but at the moment the hallway was empty.

The metal floor was cold under my bare feet as I slipped out the doorway and ran quickly down the hall. The map had indicated that if I cut through the two rooms directly across from the one I just left, I would then have a straight line to the elevator. Pausing briefly at the doorway to the next room, I listened for sounds. Hearing nothing, I slipped inside. This room appeared to be another "operating" room like the one I had just left. Only this one had a couple cages in the corner with two chimps inside. They didn't react at all to my presence, staring straight ahead looking, quite frankly, drugged out of their heads.

As I walked across the room I saw something blinking out of the corner of my eye. Turning to see what it was I found myself staring at a rotating security camera. My mistake had just barely registered when the PA system crackled to life.

"Attention all security personnel. Escaped patient sighted in testing room 12. Approach with caution. Patient is to be taken alive, though use of extreme force is authorized if needed."

Approach with caution? What did they think I was going to do to them? I looked in pretty good shape, but I didn't think I was any kind of fighter. The chilling thought that I might have some kind of disease that they were afraid of catching, flashed through my mind, but I pushed it aside. I dashed out of the room, the sound of approaching guards already behind me. I ran into the next hallway and threw open the first door on my left, only to find three men entering through the door on the other side.

I turned and sprinted farther down the hall, the guards rushing through the door and chasing after me. I burst through the next doorway I came to and ran straight through the room, startling two "doctors" examining some x-rays. As I crashed into the next hallway there were already guards coming down the hall to my right. Turning and running to the left, I kept an eye out for the elevator, finally spotting it at the end of a short hallway leading off to the right.

I turned so sharply I almost slipped, but managed to scramble back to my feet. I didn't bother slowing down as I neared the elevator, letting the back wall of the compartment stop me instead. Spinning around, I hit the button for one floor above. The guards came rushing around the corner as the doors closed.

It was a small elevator, the width barely as wide as my outstretched arms. And the ceiling was easily touched with the hand without even standing on my toes. It was most likely a service elevator. I didn't know where I was going. The guards would simply call the elevator back down and just follow me up here. My worried expression, however, turned into a grin when I noticed the small hatch on the ceiling of the elevator.

Below, the security officers watched the light above the elevator doors to see where it stopped. They called it back down as fast as they could and rode it up to the next floor. Piling out of the small compartment, they split up as they began searching the entire floor.

After the last had gone I slid open the hatch and dropped back down. Hitting the button for the right floor, I couldn't help feeling a little smug at my quick thinking. The elevator rattled down a couple floors and stopped, the doors sliding open. This floor was rather empty. I snuck by the occasional doctor, but it seemed that most of the guards had gone to the floor above, looking for me. I made it to the file room without further incident.

It was on the corner of the building so two walls were made up of windows overlooking the scenery below. The wall that connected to the hallway was also glass, as was the door. Long desks or tables were arranged in rows down the center of the room, each one with about ten computers set up along its length. I slipped inside, making a mental note to myself to stay below desk level to keep out of sight from anyone in the hallway.

I didn't have to hunt for a computer this time. The first one I checked was ready to go and I quickly began searching the many folders and directories for information. I eventually found a list of patients located in the building and scrolled through until I found my picture. It seemed to have been taken rather recently. My head looked newly shaved, and the bruises were still there, albeit a little fresher. Unfortunately, they didn't give a name, only an I.D. number and place of pick-up. According to the file, #173 (me) had been "procured" in Ontario at someplace called, site C.

I thought back to the snippet of conversation I had heard from the guards. They had said something about a base in Ottawa. Wasn't Ottawa in Ontario? I wasn't sure (obviously I hadn't been a geography major). I was about to close the current window and continue looking, when another, smaller window popped up on-screen. It consisted of two text fields and a "Reply" button, and the top field already held a message.

"Who are you?" Now there was a difficult question. I wasn't sure what to do. I considered not messing with it in case it was one of the building's security personnel. But it didn't seem like it. The pop-up didn't really match the rest of the layout on the computer. Maybe it was someone from the outside, and if it was, maybe they could help me. Deciding to take the risk I typed in a reply.

"Who are you? Security?" Not a terribly productive answer, but I wasn't quite ready to trust this person completely.

"No. Hacked into system. Searching for someone." There was a pause after that and I began to think of a response. I was cut off, however, when the sender continued. "Kim, is that you?" The message sounded a little hesitant, like they were trying not to get their hopes up. I took a moment to concentrate, trying to decide if I felt like a, "Kim". I continued to pull a blank, though, so I sent back the only answer I could.

"I don't know." The person seemed to be perplexed by my message, since there was a lengthy pause in which nothing was sent back. I took the opportunity to elaborate. "Just woke up here. Can't remember anything." I hit the reply button and sat back to wait for his answer.

"Are you safe?"

"No. Guards searching for me. Can you help?"

"Don't know much about it." My heart sunk upon reading the words. I had so hoped that whoever this was knew what was going on and what I could do. Though, as he continued, it seemed hope was not lost altogether. "But I know someone who might. I'll send you the location."

A loading bar appeared on the screen. Someone who MIGHT know about this place? What did that mean? I sat back and waited for the bar to fill, pondering the conversation. My thoughts were suddenly cut short by a hand on my neck. I was hauled to my feet, spun around, and slammed face first into the wall. I tried to push away, but the guy kept his arm pressed into the back of my neck, using his own weight to crush me between him and the wall.

"Well, well," he chuckled in my ear, "looks like it's my lucky day. Thought I got the b.s. work when they sent me to search this floor. Now all those other idiots are up searching the floor above and you drop right into my lap." He suddenly spun me around, slamming by back into the wall and pressing his forearm into my throat, leaving me barely able to breathe. "I'd love to see the looks on their faces when I radio in and tell them I found you." However, as he raised the walkie talkie to his mouth, he abruptly seemed to change his mind.

"Before I do, though," he said, his grin suddenly growing even more dangerous, "I think some R 'n' R is called for." His eyes scrutinized me closely and I found myself starting to panic, trying to squirm away from him. "Looks like someone gave you a real goin' over," he stated, examining my bruises and wounds. "But you're still not that bad lookin'. I think me and you'll have a little fun before I turn you back over to the docs."

"No..." It was nothing more than a croak. My hands pushed futilely at his arm as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase the image of his smile from my mind. The buzzing at the base of my skull seemed to increase as the fear rose in my gut. I felt his free hand travel down my side. "No," it was louder this time, the terror in the pit of my stomach reaching a peak as his hand gripped the waist band of my flimsy hospital pants. "NO... DON'T TOUCH ME!!!!"

My desperate scream seemed to act as a cue. The buzzing suddenly lanced forward, slamming into and through the front of my skull. I felt, more than saw, the guard abruptly lifted from the ground and tossed through the air. He screamed as he hit the window, the glass breaking against his back, inflicting small scratches as he flew threw it. I wasn't sure how high up the office was, but it seemed to be high enough as the guard's cries faded into the wind.

I slowly let myself slide down the wall, my eyes fixed on the window the man had been thrown through. For awhile all I could do was sit there. The lingering terror of what had almost happened to me was mixing with the utter confusion over how I had escaped. I'm not sure how much time passed, but a ping from the computer suddenly snapped me back to reality.

The sound had indicated the completion of the download. I crawled over to the machine, my hands still shaking as I moved the mouse to click on the "Play" button. A video sprang to life. It looked like a news program. An anchor woman was speaking with a picture of a blonde young man in the corner of the screen.

"It was early morning on Wednesday the fifteenth, when police arrested the young man responsible for the deaths of three residents of Ontario. The three victims were all CEOs in the Northern Drug Corporation, a major medical company in Canada. The police have released this statement." The picture switched to the same blonde man being carried away in a straight jacket by several police officers and then to an older man in a dress uniform speaking in front of a crowd of reporters.

"We have apprehended the perpetrator. Fingerprints and DNA samples recovered from the scenes, along with the young man's own statements prove he is the one we're looking for." A reporter shouted a question over the general hum of voices, asking what the motive was. "We have yet to determine the exact motive. The suspect is currently being examined for mental instability." The image returned to the anchor.

"Police doctors say that the suspect, Ronald Stoppable, displayed signs of paranoia and even schizophrenia. When questioned by police he apparently gave jumbled stories of conspiracies and cover-ups. He is currently being held in the Indiana Institute for the Criminally Insane, pending a full evaluation." The video abruptly cut off.

"All I know is that Ron was part of a team investigating something about the Northern Drug Corporation. Ron was the only member of that team recovered alive." I had to read the message twice before it registered properly. This whole situation just seemed to get worse and worse. "Five of the team was found dead near Ron. The other three are still missing." I could tell by the use of the shortened first name that whoever this was on the computer was a close friend of "Ron's".

"And 'Kim' was one of the missing?" I typed back. I put a question mark on it, but I could already guess the answer.

"Yes."

"And this, Ron, might know what happened." I'm not sure why I bothered typing that last elementary statement. Maybe to try and convince myself that it didn't sound as stupid as I thought it did. It didn't help. I was going to try and bust out a homicidal psychopath to help me find the secrets of a Canadian medical company. My head hurt.

"Afraid I can't help much from here. If you can get to Ron, he should be able to help." I could hardly keep myself from throwing up right there. I had just escaped being raped by a sadistic security guard, and now I was supposed to trust a faceless hacker and an insane murderer. It was a terrible plan, but I had to face the fact that it was also my only option. I couldn't stay here forever, and if this "Ron" could help me unravel this mess, I would just have to chance it.

"Okay. Indiana it is."

"Head for the Jean-Paul LeBeau airfield. Tell them Wade sent you. They should be able to get you to Indiana." I typed a quick thanks and looked up the map of the building again. Finding the exits, I headed back towards the elevator. I was stopped by the sound of booted feet hurrying down the corridor towards my location. Lots of booted feet.

Cut off from the elevator, I ran the opposite way. My forced flight made me an easy target for the security cameras, and soon the PA system was announcing my location again. A guard suddenly burst through a door ahead of me, cutting me off. Turning sharply I ran through the first door on my right, dashing up the stairs inside.

"Escaped patient now in roof access stairwell #3. Apprehend." Great. Roof access. In my panic I had blindly rushed forward and had now trapped myself on the roof, where there would be no escaping from the building's guards that I could already hear close behind me.

I ran through the stairwell door onto the roof, my labored breaths misting in the cold air. Snow fell in a heavy shower from the overcast sky. I ran over to what looked like a satellite tower and ducked behind it. I heard the door I had come through slam open as the security guards burst through. I heard one of them order the others to fan out and search the roof.

When I thought no one was looking, I darted behind a raised skylight, trying to stay ahead of their search. There was a noise mixing in with the wind, a dull roar. I crawled over to another stairwell door, (locked, damn) and peered around the corner. I had to squint my eyes against the sudden violent wind, but could still make out the black helicopter in front of me.

A sound to my right made me turn as a guard came walking around the corner. I scurried to the other side of the stairwell entrance before he could see me. The security was getting closer and I couldn't seem to see anyway off the roof. A metallic bang signaled the opening of a door near the helicopter. Four people walked out onto the roof, two staying by the open door and the other two walking towards the waiting aircraft.

The swirling snow made it hard to see, but the two by the door looked like more guards. One of the two walking towards the plane seemed to me dressed differently from the others. They boarded the helicopter and the machine began to lift off. I caught the sound of another guard on the other side of the stairwell. I was about to be boxed in.

Maybe it was panic at being caught or maybe it was simply brain damage from my time in the "hospital", but whatever the reason, I suddenly found myself standing up and running towards the hovering aircraft. It tilted slightly towards the edge of the roof as I got near. I heard shouts from behind me, but I didn't bother to turn around. I ran straight to the edge of the roof and jumped, managing to catch one of the helicopter's runners.

Looking back on it now, I can't believe I did it. All I can chalk it up to is temporary insanity. The wind whipped past me, stinging any exposed skin like a million tiny needles. I thought I heard the pilot or the passengers yelling something, but I couldn't hear. All I could hear was the deafening roar of the wind and the motor. All I could see was the snowy landscape far below us.

I think they saw me, for the helicopter suddenly slowed and began descending towards the ground. The ice on the runner began melting under my hand. My fingers and toes were numb and it was working its way up my arms and legs. My hands slipped even more as the cold numbness of my hands began to turn into a horrible burning. My head started to spin, maybe from the pain in my arms or from the height. The helicopter had started to descend for a landing, but it wasn't fast enough. Still hovering above tree level, my hands finally gave out and I fell into the whirling clouds of snow.

To be continued...

Argh!! I swore that my next story wouldn't be another Kim Possible one. Heck, I don't even watch the show (my siblings do). I had other stories I was planning. A Sonic the Hedgehog, a Farscape, and a couple others. But this idea just popped into my head and I just HAD to write it. I now have two stories going at once. Hopefully this doesn't prove disastrous. Anyway, please review the heck outta this piece a' crap. It helps to fill my empty existence.