In the forests of northern Idaho, a dirt road off of Interstate 90 will take you down a rough path into the Granite Lakes. There resides the mansion of Dr. Philo Frankos, where both he and his partner Gregory Yates have been conducting research into the development of a half bird, half man supercreature. What most thought of as insane man's fruitless work turned into reality on one autumn night, as both of the men's dreams were realized by Philo's half-sister Nora giving birth to evolution's newest creation.
The night was a gigantic success for both gentlemen, who had put years of work into the project. They had agreed on every last detail, yet a topic which remained undiscussed previously made its inevitable appearance and spoiled the evening.
Dr. Frankos entered the room with a smile. "The left wing appears to have a light deformation, but in my assessment it will be fully functional by adolescence," he paused and took a few paces closer to his colleague, "Yates, we've sped evolution. The worst of our work is over." Yates grinned the biggest grin that anyone had seen from him since the tedious work began. "He will be called Flyimos."
The nurses, usually reserved and unimpeding of the scientist's work, were now whispering rapidly back and forth into eachother's ears. "It is disgusting. It isn't human!" one remarked, failing in her attempt to keep the ill tempered Dr. Frankos from hearing her. Reaching his large, veiny knuckles across his face and behind his head, Frankos let go with a mighty swoop and landed a blow to the nurse's face. "We have no time for dissent! You were hired to help not to hinder, and this specimen must be washed and made presentable by tomorrow morning for the press!"
"What press?" Yates requested, ignorant to his partner's scheme.
"A notice has been sent to the larger papers and networks," Frankos replied, "They'll be here tomorrow to see the specimen."
"You know we can't do that!"
"And why not?"
"The public outrage will ruin us," he whispered, "Not a man in this world will be understanding to our cause."
Rubbing his beard and pacing slowly around the room, Frankos was slow to respond. "Nonsense! If man's greatest dream is to fly, and it is not possible without the help of machine, then he will hope for the next best thing. And that his for the next generation to have the ability to soar above the clouds."
Yates was always annoyed by his partner's attempts to make an amazing speech out of every phrase he muttered. And now in one of their few moments of disagreement, he let go one of his few moments of anger towards Frankos.
"You will cancel the press conference immediately or I will denounce this project!"
Frankos calmy replied, "I told you Yates, that is nonsense. The public must know our achievement."
"Our achievement? This is a mutant."
"How dare you say such a thing to a boy who you've spent half your life striving to create!"
To be involved his such a project, both men were obviously a bit less than sane. But they weren't stupid, and so when Yates realized the impact his freak creation would have on the world only after its birth, he took the matter of stopping it into his own hands.
Reaching behind him on the surgical desk, Yates picked up a small knife and swung it in front of him. Assuming his partner was out to kill him, Frankos put up his fists in anger and in preperation to defend himself yelled "Yates you bastard I knew you wanted all the glory to yourself!"
In between the two men was Flyimos, the freak baby which had been born only hours earlier. With one fluid, unhesitant motion, Yates slammed the knnife into the top of the creature's skull and into its brain. Its eyes twisted and gleemed upward before disappearing behind their lids, as blood squirted then dripped out of its lips. Yates looked into his lifelong friend's eyes for a moment and simoltaniously twisted the knife a few times for good measure. As he pulled it out, Flyimos dropped limp to the ground in a pool of fresh blood.
The night was a gigantic success for both gentlemen, who had put years of work into the project. They had agreed on every last detail, yet a topic which remained undiscussed previously made its inevitable appearance and spoiled the evening.
Dr. Frankos entered the room with a smile. "The left wing appears to have a light deformation, but in my assessment it will be fully functional by adolescence," he paused and took a few paces closer to his colleague, "Yates, we've sped evolution. The worst of our work is over." Yates grinned the biggest grin that anyone had seen from him since the tedious work began. "He will be called Flyimos."
The nurses, usually reserved and unimpeding of the scientist's work, were now whispering rapidly back and forth into eachother's ears. "It is disgusting. It isn't human!" one remarked, failing in her attempt to keep the ill tempered Dr. Frankos from hearing her. Reaching his large, veiny knuckles across his face and behind his head, Frankos let go with a mighty swoop and landed a blow to the nurse's face. "We have no time for dissent! You were hired to help not to hinder, and this specimen must be washed and made presentable by tomorrow morning for the press!"
"What press?" Yates requested, ignorant to his partner's scheme.
"A notice has been sent to the larger papers and networks," Frankos replied, "They'll be here tomorrow to see the specimen."
"You know we can't do that!"
"And why not?"
"The public outrage will ruin us," he whispered, "Not a man in this world will be understanding to our cause."
Rubbing his beard and pacing slowly around the room, Frankos was slow to respond. "Nonsense! If man's greatest dream is to fly, and it is not possible without the help of machine, then he will hope for the next best thing. And that his for the next generation to have the ability to soar above the clouds."
Yates was always annoyed by his partner's attempts to make an amazing speech out of every phrase he muttered. And now in one of their few moments of disagreement, he let go one of his few moments of anger towards Frankos.
"You will cancel the press conference immediately or I will denounce this project!"
Frankos calmy replied, "I told you Yates, that is nonsense. The public must know our achievement."
"Our achievement? This is a mutant."
"How dare you say such a thing to a boy who you've spent half your life striving to create!"
To be involved his such a project, both men were obviously a bit less than sane. But they weren't stupid, and so when Yates realized the impact his freak creation would have on the world only after its birth, he took the matter of stopping it into his own hands.
Reaching behind him on the surgical desk, Yates picked up a small knife and swung it in front of him. Assuming his partner was out to kill him, Frankos put up his fists in anger and in preperation to defend himself yelled "Yates you bastard I knew you wanted all the glory to yourself!"
In between the two men was Flyimos, the freak baby which had been born only hours earlier. With one fluid, unhesitant motion, Yates slammed the knnife into the top of the creature's skull and into its brain. Its eyes twisted and gleemed upward before disappearing behind their lids, as blood squirted then dripped out of its lips. Yates looked into his lifelong friend's eyes for a moment and simoltaniously twisted the knife a few times for good measure. As he pulled it out, Flyimos dropped limp to the ground in a pool of fresh blood.
