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Dr. Connor Klein leaned back in the reclining chair in his living room. Even though he had suggested to Director Archer the idea of furthering the augmentations of subject 1276 and even though the committee had given the green light to proceed, he honestly did not have any idea of how he was going to go about continuing 1276's augmentations. The area of training was not the problem; 1275 was trained for hand-to-hand combat, so 1276 could potentially close the literal gap caused by a distanced target. The more pressing issue arose when trying to consider what possible advantages could be given to subject 1276 that 1275 did not possess. The wolf was naturally fast and strong, and the natural hunting instincts made 1275 extremely attentive.

Connor slowly got up from the recliner and made his way to the nearby bookcase, deciding that he should try to let his mind rest. As he slid his hand across a row of books, one in particular caught his attention: Creatures of European Mythology. Carefully, he removed the tome from its place and brushed a hand over the hard cover, removing the thin layer of dust that had accumulated over the years. It had been so long since he had last looked through the old, leather-bound volume. As he held the large book in his hands, he gave a small sigh as he continued to look at the book. The thing seemed to be so ancient. His grandfather gave it to him.

The doctor made his way back to his seat and plopped himself down, all while staring at the stamped and stained cover of the old book. As a child, he had read the book countless times, knowing it by heart, memorizing it forward and backward. Of course, that was many years ago, nearly 35, as a matter of fact; those countless passages and entries had grown quite fuzzy in his mind over the years. Suddenly decided, he opened the book and turned to a random page near the middle. He read for hours, reading through the night and until dawn when he finally happened upon an entry concerning the most feared beasts of the European mind up through the Renaissance period. Dragons.

The doctor read the entry repeatedly. That's when it hit him. He could use this in 1276's augmentation. With an armor of hardened scales, he could likely take a lot of abuse from most weapons. What was more, if he had a Dragon's unnaturally acute senses, he would be able to pick out details that most others missed at first glance. With wings, 1276 could reach high-up places that would otherwise be inaccessible. He would make the perfect sniper...

***

Subject 1276 was rudely awakened in the morning by someone turning the lights on. The buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead brutally dragged him out of a pleasant dream; their radiance nearly blinded him, making him squint and groan in discomfort. Slowly, the boy sat up and looked toward the door to find out just who had disturbed his slumber. Standing in the doorway was Director Archer and a scientist. The Director let a small grin creep onto his face as he pulled his hand away from the light switch.

"Nap time's over," he said. "You have training today."

Subject 1276 momentarily looked at the two men in confusion before trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. It took a few seconds for the words to sink in; training meant that his body would be excruciatingly sore and his mind exhausted by the end of the day. He sat there on his cot for a few more minutes before reluctantly hopping down onto the cool floor.

The two men took the boy down two hallways and into a long room. The layout of the room was strange to him; a partial wall that was as high as his shoulders blocked off most of the room and the ceiling above the blocked off portion held several metal tracks that ran parallel with each other. Coming out of the wall were several other walls that effectively made small alcoves. One of the tracks had a board hanging from it. On the board was the silhouette of a man with a target on the head and chest areas. The boy knew what this was. It was a shooting range. Director Archer led him over to a table near one of the alcoves. On that table was a black pistol. With it, were seven full magazines. Next to the table, leaning against the wall, was the range supervisor and instructor.

"Today, your training is simple." Archer said, "You are learning how to use a weapon." Subject 1276's eye went wide, his legs beginning to shake slightly. However, despite his jitteriness, the boy simply nodded in acknowledgement and stepped closer to the man leaning on the wall, who was all too ready to start teaching...

"Place your right hand here and your left underneath it like...yeah, like that!" the supervisor instructed. Subject 1276 was learning quickly, catching on to the supervisor's instructions before he was even finished speaking. "Now, hold it out in front of you like this to aim down the sights." the instructor put himself in the correct pose and watched how his charge mimicked him perfectly. It made him uncomfortable to teach a new shooter like this; he was not allowed to lay even a finger on the lad under penalty of being court marshaled. The scientists, especially Dr. Klein, were already complaining about the military staff "contaminating" their work.

The instructor looked downrange and pointed at the target "Now, remember, don't take off the safety until you h-"

*Crack*

The instructor flinched in surprise as Subject 1276 fired a round downrange. He heard a small gasp come from the child. He looked at the kid, half expecting the pistol to have placed itself between the poor kid's eyes. The pistol had hardly moved, thanks to his altered strength, but the look on the child's face said that he was obviously not expecting such a sound or jolt to come from such a small object. He looked at the target only to find the bullet hole a full six inches above the target's right shoulder. The instructor frowned. This child was going to become the perfect sharpshooter? He completely missed the target's body!

Subject 1276 frowned as well; he was sure that he had the target in his sights, and yet he missed! He pulled the trigger again, already stealing himself for the weapon's recoil. Another shot rang out, followed by another and another until the slide locked back. He lowered the weapon to inspect his handiwork. Only one shot had hit home. Some did not even hit the white parts around the outside of the target. Upon seeing his results, the kid set the weapon on the table and left to the range for his quarters.

The supervisor sighed and cleaned up the area. He rather felt sorry for that poor kid, being under so much pressure all the time to give 200 percent. He had even heard rumors that that the child beat himself up over every mistake he made. Still, the supervisor could not dwell on such matters all day; he had other things to do...

Subject 1276 moved slowly through the halls back to his room, dragging his feet almost as if he were a zombie. He had never done so horribly on any task that he was given, never! He had always surpassed the expectations of those gave him tests and various other assignments. Why did he not do well? Was he inferior? Was it supposed to be some kind of sick joke? Questions bubbled inside his head, making him disoriented on both a physical and mental level; so much so that he almost ran into Dr. Klein just a few feet away from his destination. Dr. Klein noticed the kid immediately and grabbed his shoulder to stop him. "Hey, why so sad?" he asked.

Subject 1276 looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, "I missed."

For a moment, Connor had not a clue as to what the boy was talking about. But, as luck would have it, he was one of 50 people scheduling various events and tasks for the program subjects. It was then that said schedule popped into his mind. Slowly he kneeled in front of the weeping child and pulled him into a hug. Right or wrong, that was what the kid needed, something comforting in an environment where matters of the heart and soul came last. "Every shot?" he asked.

The boy stepped back and shook his head as his tears began to ebb, "All but one."

Dr. Klein stood at his full height, and looked down at the child, "Well it just so happens that I planned an operation for you after lunch. Maybe then, you won't have so much trouble?"

Subject 1276 nodded and stepped into his room after waving goodbye. When the door closed, he launched himself onto his bed and began to let his mind wander. His thoughts took him to that strange wolf boy that he had met in the nature room. He never saw him; at least he thought it was a him, other than that one time. He resolved that he would ask someone when he had the chance. Perhaps Dr. Klein or Director Archer would know.

Dr. Klein sighed as he left Subject 1276. He felt general concern for the kid; it seemed that the child's schedule was still putting a large of stress on him. He continued his trek to a secured area at the end of the hall. The Doctor swiped his key card in front on the nearby panel, which turned green with a beep and allowed him access. Inside the door, data from every subject in the program- past, present, and even future candidates, were displayed on a multitude of screens. However, the head scientist ignored those as he made his way farther into the room. Opposite of the entry, another door stood; this also required a swipe from his key card along with a retinal and fingerprint scan. The door hissed as the seal was broken. This was only a small, cramped room; size was not needed for its primary directive, that being decontamination. The Doctor stepped inside and the door closed immediately behind him. Vents on the ceiling and walls began to flood the chamber with gaseous disinfectants. On the side, a try popped open for used clothing. The man removed his smock and placed it inside. A second try opened, exposing a sterile set of lab apparel and booties to cover shoes. Once the man applied the new set of clothing, he hit a button, which stopped the sterilization process and opened the airtight door to his most secret working area.

There, sitting on pedestals in the center of the clean room, were two small, yet powerful pieces of technology. So far, they were the only two of their kind. They were created with the intention of relaying commands and instructions directly to the user's brain. The device was designed to be ultra efficient and only required a subject's internal body temperature to function.

Next to one of the devices was a computer. The display showed a set of genes on the molecular level along with a projection of what the genes' owner would either look like or be able to do after changes were made to the DNA. The top of the screen read Subject 1276, Sniper. A second monitor showed current information about the subject in question, from nutrition to test results. Every test had been passed exceptionally well, save for the target range for which was scored as "below expectations." the Doctor made a single change in the displayed genetic code. A few moments later, a small sheet of printed-paper came out of a slot, which was taken to a larger machine to be processed. After a few long moments, it dispensed seven vials. All for the purpose of genetic modification. The Doctor took only the first one and left the clean room. The other vials would be needed, but not yet, all in due time.

***

*Crack! Crack! Crack!*

Subject 1276 fired at the targets. It had been months since he was shown the shooting range and taught how to use the pistol he was now discharging. The boy had to admit, he liked shooting. Even better was that he was quickly becoming good at it; more than one supervisor had commented that he was a natural when they saw how tight of a grouping he had. Of course, that was after the scientists had done more things to him.

*Crack! Crack! Crack crack crack! Crack-tic!*

The slide locked back and Subject 1276 examined the firearm with disappointment, out of bullets again. That meant that he was done for the day. With a sigh, he set the gun down on the table, safety moved to the "on" position as he was taught. The supervisor in the room walked out of the corner, looking at the seven targets placed on the range. Each had a tight grouping around the chest area. He was about to congratulate the lad when he heard the door to the range close, the boy had left. Having been given several praises over the past few days, the supervisor did not blame the kid; once he was done picking up the gun, and spent casings, he recalled the targets and examined them. He frowned after a moment of glancing at them. Subject 1276 had fired over 60 rounds, yet he only saw six or seven holes in each of the three targets. He started to think that maybe the kid still wasn't as good as the other supervisors had claimed, but terminated that thought when he looked more closely at some of the other holes. He had shot some of the same spots more than once, by the looks from of how oddly the paper was torn in those areas. He leaned forward and put his weight onto the partial wall, letting out a sigh. Whatever those eggheads were doing to that kid, he could not help but be just a tad bit envious...

***

Subject 1276 sat patiently in his room, the plain walls and ceiling hardly providing any atmosphere and the buzz of the lights overhead was the only ambient sound. The boy's breathing was calm as he sat on his bed, trying to think of something to do. A book sat on the desk in the corner. The book was about Alexander the Great and the boy had already read the book, absorbing the information contained on the pages of the large tome in the span of just a few days. He thought about reading another book from the stack placed next to the desk but decided against it almost immediately; he had read all of those as well.

Letting out a sigh, the boy slowly laid back. He was just simply bored; he had already been to the shooting range and the scientists had done their needlework for the day. He let his mind drift a little, absently thinking about anything that came to mind. After a few minutes of thinking, nothing good came up. He let out another sigh. He was bored.

_ Maybe I should read a book,_ he thought. Yeah, a book would help pass the time for sure! Even if he had already read them, they would at least occupy his mind. Then again, he already read the books; they were useless to him now.

Just as he realized that fact, the door opened and a scientist flanked by two soldiers stepped inside. It was Dr. Klein! Subject 1276 liked the Doctor; he was always so nice to him, always patient and never yelled. He cradled a clipboard in one arm as he flipped through some notes. "1276," he started. "It is time for more shots. Follow me, please."

Klein held motioned out the door and the child made his way outside and into the hallway. As they walked down the hall, Subject 1276 remembered his personal promise and looked up at the scientist. "Dr. Klein?"

The man looked down at the child, "Yes?"

"Do you know anything about the wolf-boy that I met in the nature room?"

Dr. Klein quickly hid his surprise behind an iron curtain. He had not expected the boy to bring that subject up. He quickly began to construct a story to tell the kid. It was imperative for the success of the program that neither subject saw the other as an ally. "He is a subject like you by another group of people, bad people." The Doctor said, "They sent him here to sabotage our work. We had to make you both fall asleep so that one of you did not kill the other and start a war. We put him in detention, but he escaped and we haven't seen him again."

Subject 1276 looked puzzled, "But he seemed so nice."

Klein shook his head, "Of course he did. Why would he be mean to you and make his job harder?"

The child seemed to agree with that answer and nodded. The Doctor let out and internal sigh; that was such a close call, one that he hoped he would not need to repeat. Thankfully, they had arrived at the lab. The door hissed open to allow the program subject and the scientist in...

***

"Is he ready?" Director Archer asked as he looked out of the observation window.

"Oh, yes," said Dr. Klein. "Very ready. It has taken me months to synthesize the correct compounds suitable to the delicate nature of Subject 1276. However, due to the changes in his skeletal structure, he will be in an extreme amount of pain after his physical alteration. It would be wise to allow him rest after he regains consciousness."

"No." Director replied, "As I've told you before, I cannot have any delays. I will continue his training as planned."

"B-but sir!" Klein stammered. "That would jeopardize his health!"

"And delaying the program would jeopardize your career." The Director retorted. "This path was your idea. We do not have the luxury of backing out! Now, was there something else that you were going to add to Subject 1276? A little piece of hardware, perhaps?"

Without saying another word, Dr. Klein strode out of the observation room, making his way down to the room in which the still-human child lay unconscious on an operating table. The kid's head was carefully prepared for some of the alterations he was to receive; one being one of the small neural transmitters that he had so carefully worked on. The doctor had made and programmed the device himself and, fearing the worst, made it possible for 1276 to turn the device off if the need arose. If the Director was going to continually strain both of the current subjects, he was at least going to try his best to give each a fighting chance at having their own choices.

It took weeks for the compounds to take effect. Every scientist and lab technician worked tirelessly to ensure success of their charge, who was now suspended in a liquid-filled tank and hooked up to various monitoring machines. Finally, the moment came for the new creature to awaken and the fluids of the tank to be drained. All of that work, that precious, precious work, was soon rewarded when a loud keen of pain erupted through every hall in the base.

The child clamped his mouth shut as he heard that sound come from his...muzzle? The child looked over himself, but only caught a blurry glimpse of red before his vision faded and failed. He was soon off in deep slumber; warm, welcoming, and painless. However, little did he know that this was to be the last time the boy knew every day as peaceful.

***

1276 stood atop a mountain peak near sunset. Crisp, cool air whipped around him in a strangely satisfyingly way. The smell of pine and birch wood flowed into his nose with every breath, tickling his heightened senses in just the right way and giving him comfort more so than a mother's embrace. He looked around the expanse before him, seeing only more rocky outcroppings below his high perch. The air was not thin, as it should have been. It was quite pleasant and heavy with moisture. Somewhere off in the distance, a single bird called out his last notes of song before hiding away in his nest for the night. That lone call was answered a few minutes later by that of a nightingale. Crickets soon joined in along with several other insects. Bats added their own clicks as they searched for their meals. A little while longer and an owl added its own hoots to the cacophony of sound. It was all a somewhat perfectly organized yet chaotic symphony, of which mother night was the only conductor. And, this mother cued in the final piece of her masterpiece, a night predator's bass note growl providing that low rumbling to sit in the core of ever ear that turned to listen.

The boy spread his arms out away from his body, letting the sound and wind carry him with their harmonies, melodies, and counter melodies. Wherever they directed, he followed without objection. They lead him off his peak and higher into the sky, instead of letting him fall; the night carried him to those higher planes thousands upon thousands of feet in the sky. He began to see trees in the distance and the night and music brought him all the closer to them until he was above a vast forest. He felt at home as the smell of trees grew to an all time high, beckoning him join them in their peaceful existence. He breathed deeply of their scents; luxuriating in the warm feeling, it gave him in his core to accompany that steady rumble already in his chest. He closed his eyes and let a smile creep onto his face. It felt so right until the bass changed its tone and began to get louder. Its tone turned into a sickening buzz that began to disrupt the organization until only chaos remained. That chaos hurt the wings of the night and made her drop the boy she had carried so high. Subject 1276 fell faster as the buzzing got louder until he broke the tree line and caught a brief glimpse of the ground before he-

*Buzz*

The loud buzz of lights filled Subject 1276's ears as he awoke. He immediately felt pain all over; his body felt like it was on fire and his head felt as though a truck had hit it. He kept his eyes closed, too focused on the pain to even bother with such a simple task. He started to groan but stopped. What came out of his throat sounded scratchy and almost like a growl. Ignoring the pain as best he could, the boy opened his eyes and sat up. He reached up to rub his eyes with his wrist but froze. His wrist, along with his hand and the rest of his arm, was covered in deep red scales. They were almost as smooth as the scales found on a snake and flexed with his arm's movements. He looked at the onyx black claws that capped each of his fingers; they looked sharper than any knife could ever hope to be. He turned his attention to the rest of his body. Changes had been made everywhere, it seemed. His other arm and his legs were covered in the red scales while his chest and belly were covered in grey plates that were thick yet pliable. He saw a tail between his legs and it possessed the same plates and red scales as the rest of his body. With a little experimentation, he painfully began to move that new appendage. Something caught his attention on the far right side of his vision. Fighting back more pain, he turned his neck to see what had so easily grabbed his eye. There, slowly tucking itself close to his back once more, was a wing almost like that of a bat, but the membrane wasn't flesh. No, it was made of fine scales. Like his tail, he concentrated on making it move a few pain-filled inches, only to discover that he had another on the other side.

He stopped his examination to wonder just who had turned on the light in the room. Standing in the door was Director Archer. Subject 1276 felt a sinking in his gut. Something inside him said that he had a duty to this man somehow. He was the alpha. That same something said that this was his fate. As if agreeing with that something, the Director smiled, "Hello, Subject 1276..."