Lance Ironson walked hurriedly through the clean white hallways, the LED lights above casting his shadow behind him.

Just that morning, everything had been going fine. Humane Inc. was hands-down the largest association of the Humanist Club and was by far its most influential backer. Import and export, textiles, technology, Humane was responsible for all of it. There weren't many products in Centropolis that didn't have their logo tacked on the side of it.

The business had been worked up from scratch, starting out as a simple garage store and building up from there into the colossus dominating the street today. Their skyscraper was almost as tall as the Supertower, for crying out loud! They had strings and contacts on either side of the law so deep that they wouldn't be uprooted by anything less than a total stock market crash.

Regardless of all that power and wealth, Lance was extraordinarily worried. He'd been the CEO of Humane for quite some time now and had been taking further steps than anyone else to stamp out the disease slowly spreading in their gleaming metropolis of the future. Namely, the creeping rise of the monster population.

It was still infinitesimal, really. One out of every five hundred thousand citizens was a monster, and the thought made him grimace. He'd appealed to the mayor several times to revoke their citizenship, but their often powerful abilities made them invaluable in jobs where humans would otherwise be considered in danger. Monsters were disposable in that regard.

Either way, the man Lance was meeting with was one of their very top agents, even though he was a nutcase. They'd sent him multiple targets, after tranqing them and ensuring they weren't a threat. Humane never saw any of the monsters they sent to him ever again, which was all well and good in Lance's eyes.

He burst into the soundproof room, and the pale man inside turned with a slight frown. "You're late."

Lance slammed a fist on the table. "And you're not supposed to be here! We gave you that snake-man a few days ago, why are you here now?"

The man shrugged. "He's dead. He didn't hold up to my tests as well as I thought he would."

Lance pulled the metal folding chair out from under the table, collapsing in it and rubbing a hand through his groomed black hair, green eyes glinting in fury. "Leonard, you said you could get us information about how to stop this - this disease from spreading. If you keep going through subjects at this rate, we're going to have to-"

Leonard cut him off with a glare. "They are not subjects, and I'm not 'going through them', as you say. They are each individual, beautiful monsters, and I am systematically and carefully dissecting them in an attempt to discover their origins. And I have good news."

That caught Lance's attention. Humane had been trying to figure out where monsters were coming from for a long time with no success. If Leonard had really figured out how to stop it, then his value had just increased exponentially. "Really? What is it? How do we stop it?"

Leonard raised a hand, interrupting him. "Firstly, we do not stop it. It isn't something that can be stopped. Second, I am fairly confident - with only a small margin of error - that I know how monsters are developed."

Lance's eyes narrowed. "Is it what we thought? Are they aliens? Mutated animals, maybe?"

Shaking his head easily, Leonard told him, "No, I believe they used to be humans."

The room fell silent, Lance's face twisted in shock. It had never occurred to him that the terrifying creatures roaming Centropolis had ever been human. Yes, some of them had a somewhat human appearance, but he'd always assumed they were trying to copy the superior race.

"You... you're wrong. You can't prove it."

Leonard chuckled. "Of course I can prove it. That's why I'm here, after all. I have need of your laboratory and employees."

Lance's eyebrows crashed into each other, and he stood, the chair falling to the ground with a hollow rattle. "You stay away from my company. I'm not having any of your crap here - if you so much as touch my employees, so help me-"

Leonard calmly placed a manila folder on the table. "Yes, I am. You are going to allow me to do whatever I want to here. Or, in layman's terms, 'you will regret it'."

Staring at the folder, all Lance could think was I knew it. Hiring such an unstable man and assuming they could control him was a bad decision on his part, even though it had seemed like an excellent idea at the time. They would be getting rid of monsters and finding out how to stop them at the same time.

Reaching out a hand, he grabbed the folder and flipped it open, taking a look at the first page. His face drained of all color in a moment, and he fell backwards, stumbling away from Leonard. "What... what is this?"

Mildly, Leonard walked next to him and crouched, pointing at the photos. "Well, that's your wife, and those are your sons. Right next to them, that tiny black speck? That's a microbomb. Normally, they use them on prisoners in the Basement to make sure they don't disturb anyone, but in this case I decided they would work much better here." He smiled at Lance happily. "Do you get it yet? If I die, they do too. If you disagree, my flat goes up in flames along with them. You really should guard your valuables better, by the way."

The color returned to Lance's face in an angry rush. "They're not valuables, Leonard! What are you thinking? You can't afford to-"

Leonard cut him off. "Of course they're valuables. As of late, you've only cared about stamping out all resistance from a minority that's just trying to fit in, you jerk. As for me, I have an extreme desire to find out how to apply the process to myself, and you're going to help me."

Lance glared at him, wishing he could punch him and knowing that he couldn't. "Fine," he spat. "What do you need?"

Leonard ambled back over to the table, setting the chair back up. "Well, I picked today for an excellent reason. It's Take Your Daughter to Work day, after all, and we're going to need the perfect child." His face split in a grin. "Rest assured, I know exactly how I want this to go."

Lance had a feeling he wasn't going to be having any rest for a long time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alison Brown waited on the comfy plastic chair, legs kicking back and forth as she waited for the nervous man to come back.

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A few minutes ago, her parents had been asked to go in the room on her right, and she was being patient like they told her to, not that an eight-year-old could sit still for too long. Pulling a curl out of her blond hair, her bright blue eyes darted around the nearly bare room excitedly.

The last time someone had wanted to talk to her parents all by themselves, Daddy had gotten a raise, which was a good thing according to Mommy.

She was happy to wait if it meant another raise. They'd gone out for ice cream and a movie, and had a really fun day.

The door opened, and a voice spoke through a loudspeaker above her. "You can go in now, Alison."

Eagerly, she skipped in, the door closing behind her.

It wasn't a large room, maybe twenty feet by twenty feet, with a gigantic rectangular mirror on one side and a light socket in the ceiling. She wasn't paying much attention to that, though, and was more concerned with how her parents looked. Their faces were streaming with tears as they enveloped her in a hug. "Alison, honey, we love you so much, all right?"

She was beginning to panic. "What's going on?"

Daddy looked her in the eye with a terrified expression she'd never seen before. "I promise, everything's going to be-"

His head exploded. Not metaphorically. A gruesome pop accompanied it as Alison was sprayed with gore.

Mommy cried out, clutching Alison tightly. She had a blank expression on her face. What had just happened? "Alison, you're going to be fine, I promise. I pro-"

There was a pop.

A moment later, the room was drenched in red matter, both corpses lying on the ground.

Alison stood with glazed eyes and a slack jaw. Her... her parents. What had just...

She figured it out a moment later and began screaming. The screaming increased in volume and fear as she realized she would never see her Mommy and Daddy again. She would never be tucked in again. She would never have ice cream and watch movies ever again.

Her head began to hurt as she expressed her fear and horror in the only way an eight-year-old could, and a moment later, Alison ceased to exist.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The two men watched through the one-way mirror, one eagerly and one with disgust.

"You know," Leonard began, "I think I figured it out. It all has to do with stress, you see. Later on in life, as an adult, one might encounter a situation so stressful that their body realizes it needs help. Unfortunately, it's already dealt with stress and issues at that point, so all they get is superpowers. When it comes to children, however, they haven't had the opportunity to protect themselves against extreme trauma. It goes double for kids who have a healthy family to protect and guide them through life."

The father's head exploded, and Lance nearly threw up. Leonard continued without any noticeable change. "In the case of our little Alison here, she was raised by her parents in a calm environment. The father makes enough money for them to live comfortably, and the mother-" he pressed a button, and she died with equal violence. "-cared so much that she would drop what she was doing to help Alison with whatever she needed. As a result, she has had the bare minimum of stress in her life. That's why I picked her."

She began screaming. It was a horrific sound, one that increased in intensity and power until a hairline fracture cracked the glass. Collapsing to her knees and clutching at the scraps that remained, the air around her began to vibrate as her hair fell out at an incredible rate. As her skull began to boil, there was a short moment of silence, and then the mirror went blank. 

For a moment, Lance thought that the room's light had turned off, but then he made out the shape of hundreds of toothy green tentacles grating and screeching across the glass. Slowly, ever so slowly, the mass pulled inwards to the center of the room, revealing the cement to be cracked and shattered. As the tentacles receded, Lance could make out the shape in the middle of it all. 

Alison had changed.

Instead of the adorable, bright young girl who had entered, there was a small humanoid shape. While still clearly childlike and female, her skin was now rubbery lime green. Her dress had all but been shredded, although there wasn't anything left to hide anymore. Her hair was utterly gone, replaced by dozens of thick tentacles that spooled from her body and over the floor in a fan.

Leonard was clapping like a child at a circus. "Magnificent! I mean, really - magnificent! I never would have guessed my theory would work so well!" 

Lance opened the door and two burly security guards carefully entered. Alison was facedown into the concrete and didn't respond when they poked her. Picking her up, they grunted from the strain of her unexpected weight. Leaning forward, Lance gave them his instructions, and they left promptly.

Leonard walked in, gazing in childlike wonder at the destroyed room. "This is incredible! I mean, it's a pity about that child. I believe the process completely overrides all mental operations in its attempt to find a solution to the trauma, so she unfortunately won't remember a thing. I'd love to know what it feels like."

Lance gaped at him, his disgust and hatred plain on his face. "That... that was a little girl." 

Leonard waved it away casually. "Oh, please. She'll be much happier with being a monster. Her abilities will be significantly higher, after all." He chuckled to himself. "By the way, I documented this whole thing. I find blackmail to be so effective when used properly."

Lance stared at him, aghast. "I... I refuse to help you with this any further."

Leonard chuckled. "Of course you'll help me with it. I still need more subjects, although I must admit that Alison was likely the perfect first attempt."

One of Lance's men reentered, and told him, "It's done, sir."

Lance nodded. "Thank you, Jake. I appreciate your discretion." As the man left, Lance realized Leonard was staring at him, suspicion heavy on his face.

"What was that all about? What's done?"

Lance looked at him, his dead expression a far cry from the one he'd had that morning. "I disposed of the body. We can't leave any evid-"

Leonard slapped him across the face, white with rage. "Disposed? Disposed? Are you aware of the amount of research I could have performed with such a new specimen? Go get the corpse back, right now!"

Lance felt blood in his mouth, and rubbed it with his finger, staring at it impassively. "I can't. We threw it in the incinerator."

Breathing heavily, Leonard kicked the wall and cursed. "Of course you did, you moron. Stupid! You're so stupid!" The man was beginning to act like a child having a tantrum. 

Standing, Lance looked him in the eye. "You're going to do it again, aren't you? Just wait until then." 

Leonard practically growled at him. "You know what? After this, you don't deserve to have your family back yet. I think I'll just hold onto them for a bit longer. Moron."

He left the room in a cloud of rage, and Lance nearly collapsed from the strain. 

He had just killed a young child and two of his own employees, and all for a madman he'd hired by himself. And why had he hired him? To hunt down the monsters he believed to be a threat to the city when they were really just people. To make it worse, he couldn't even reveal any of the information. The city would have his head on a platter for the 'experiment' he'd just allowed. He hadn't even saved his wife and sons yet.

At least he had one consolation. Rubbing his eyes, he whispered to himself, "Forgive me, Alison. But I had no choice."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A minute earlier...

Lance walked into the room, stunned at the damage that had been caused. The two men accompanying him picked up the child, stonefaced. 

It was a moment of humanity. Ironic considering he was the CEO of a company called Humane Inc, but he leaned in suddenly and whispered to them, "Get her out of here. Get this kid as far away from Leonard as you can. Put her in a place where he'll never find her."

The man nodded his acknowledgement, betraying no emotion despite the blood he was standing in. They carried her away without further preamble. 

Leonard walked in. "This is incredible! I mean..."

His voice dulled in Lance's ears, and he whispered to himself, "May God have mercy on my soul."