The scientists were grouped together, planning their argument. "We have to make it appealing, otherwise we won't be able to test anyone."

"I can do that for you." Out of the shadows they stepped. Eerie lighting and movements to make it seem the way they wanted it to—dark, mysterious, misunderstood.

"Who are you?" a nurse from the hospital asked, taken aback.

They laughed, their dark eyes glittering. Dressed in all black—including a black hood to cover everything with shadow but their gleaming eyes—they walked toward the group. "Let's just say I am someone hoping for seven people to agree to your plan. Let us make a deal—I will persuade seven mothers to sign their children up for your mutating tests. Don't be so surprised, Myrtle—I have been listening, waiting for my moment. In exchange, well—you won't need to do anything, but merely to not speak of my presence, and if I need you, I'll call you, since you'd owe me. Fair?"

"Seems fair, but you must achieve this feat of persuading mothers. We have not been successful in other locations." Ali—a fellow scientist—frowned. "How do you plan to do this? And how do you know Myrtle's name?"

"Simple. Elements of persuasion, and I can be very persuasive. I am also called charming...and you all have name tags on."

"We have a deal," Elizabeth spoke for her fellow scientists. She held out her hand, and a black gloved hand met hers and shook it anxiously, as if someone would stop them from doing what they desired if they did mot make this deal fast enough.

"Alright then," the mysterious figure said. "I need to provide to them an official contract. We need to create those."

They began to work on writing those seven contracts.

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"Hello." A hooded figure approached a mother walking hand in hand with her five year old girl. Her blonde hair bounced as she skipped and sang the alphabet song. Her grey-blue eyes glittered with the happiness only a truly innocent five year old could possess.

"Uh, hi?" her mother asked suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"I want you to hear me out." The hooded figure walked a bit closer. "Whatever happens here stays between us."

"Continue." The mother was ready to defend in an instant.

"Your daughter—she's destined for something great, I can feel it." The darkly dressed person did what they did with the other six—and it had worked, contracts all signed. "She... I want you to consider handing her off to science. Not just any science, but genetic mutation."

The woman gasped. "What? Never!"

"Hear me out. She could be given off to the greater good—and possibly come out with positive, unique attributes that could help her survive. Logic has proven she'll thrive with the new traits she'll acquire." They concentrated on using their charm and persuasive vibes to almost rob the mother of her will. They had always prized their charm and used it frequently to get what they wished for.

A contract passed from the dark to the light. The mother read the dark font and her light blue eyes hardened. "'Not responsible for serious injuries, disabilities, or death'?" she read out loud.

"Unlikely." The charmer dismissed the statement. "We're not responsible because there are risks, however."

"Well... All this information and stuff has got to me...I don't know how. But where do I sign?" the poor woman asked, unknowingly giving in to a great foe. That foe had poured a great deal of her persuasive ideas into a short page—the contract. It would be nearly impossible to decline the offer.

"There and there," they said, pointing. "Perfect."

"All set. So, you're taking her from ages twelve to sixteen?"

"Correct, but do not worry—she is in good hands."

"I bet." The mother looked at her child, having drawn a person with limited detail on the sidewalk with chalk. She was oblivious to what her mother had just done.

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"Elizabeth, I'm afraid," a scientist came walking up to her after the dark figure came back with the signed contracts.

"Why are you afraid?" Elizabeth asked, oblivious to what she had agreed to. "We'll finally be able to do it—our dream. Our group's dream."

"They did not seem compassionate."

"They seemed plenty compassionate to me, like they would be fair to the parents yet get us our test subjects for those four years. We have enough time to practice and study more."

"I just have a feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" Elizabeth was intrigued.

"Like we just made a deal with the devil," the scientist, Aaron, replied. He was utterly serious, and it freaked Elizabeth out.