Killer instints, hunting prowest, and a need to survive are all embedded in a preditor's memory. They are also embedded in mine. Dozens of attacks, hundreds perished. All for one thing - the perfect killing machine.

Ever since the Rage Project began, I began a horrifying metamorphisis. The madder I became the stronger my alter ego became. It was now showing. Across my face, hugging my arms, wrapped around my chest, and straight down my legs. I was looking more like my alter ego every day. I was feared by peers, teachers, and parents. I was synomomous with Death itself. I, too, was gripped by fear.

No one, not even myself, could keep Rage in check. To combat him, I kept myslef locked away, deep in the bows of my room. It shows... very easily. Torn posters and magazines, mangled hard-cover books, shredded clothes, and falling apart electronics. The walls had deep claw marks scattered throughout the room. The ceiling overhead was crumbling and the carpet was pulled up and tattered. The exposed floor was rugged and lightly covered in a fine dust from the ceiling. The wooden door was replaced with a metal door; however, it was covered in dents, resembling pug marks. The window was boarded up and covered with security bars in barb wire. I was completely incaged.

Somewhere far away, but nearby - at the same time - the ones whom fathered the Rage Projects began to toil. They were constantly keeping a steady eye on the Rage alter egos. It came to their attention that Phase One was a somplete success. It was now time to impliment Phase Two.

Phase Two: Gather the Rage Prototypes and deliver them to [censored location] for 'further development'. Give Prototypes and others in area a convincing cover story. Use extreme caution.

*DING-DONG*

The front door shot open, a well-groomed gentleman was on the other side of the security door. average height, slight build, but carried a hint of sheer evil. He was offered to come in; he hesitated for a moment and accepted the kind offer.

"Sir, Madam," the gentleman asked, "it has come to the attention of my agency that your eldest son has a (pause) 'rage' problem. We wish to ask if we may have the opportunity to 'borrow' your son until his 'rage' problem is put back into check."

My parents quicly agreed. This would be the greatest error someone could ever make. My life was now in the hands of "total strangers". With my parents in the lead, they approached the steel door.

The steel door; the only means of escape was hidden away in the hallway's tab. The door itself was literally dressed in locks and heavy bolts. It roughly took three minutes to enter all the codes and unvassen all the locks and bolts. All the time, I heard each code entered and each lock and bolt removed. With a loud, ear-piercing shrill, the steel door slowly opened.

Nothing happened.

I was preoccupied, I was in the middle of a harmless video-game. No harm in that, is there? My parents wanted me to leave with the gentleman. I quickly saved and turned everything off. I was no dumb-ass. I knew it was vary safer to go quictly rather than fight. He semed pretty shocked to hear me willingly read to go.

Outside, a car with a driver was patiently parked in the driveway. The dark-purple Breeze was totally different from other government-issued cars. This one had a police-looking interior. The back seat had a bar ridden gate; protecting the front-seat passagers. The back-seat was ridden with the oder of wild animals. The torn seats were a good indication of a struggle. blood stains on the bars and floor told me that either the animal or one of the front-seat passagers were badly cut. What were these men up to now? Are there others like myself? Victims of the Rage Project. Could it be possible...?

A soft hissing sound began. The driver and the gentleman covered their nose and mouth. It was gas; I tried to cover my nose and mouth, but it was too late. I went out like a light.

When I came to, I was in a large grey room. I wasn't the only one there. Two women and another guy were hovering over me. The guy helpped me up. Each of them introduced themselves to me. In return I introduced myself. Not only did we tell each other our names, we also told what we raged into. We were all about the same age, give or take a year. Each of us had graduated and was going into the Army.

Sara - the youngest - had absolutely no clue why she was here. But she knew what she became in a fit of rage. A natural born leader, she was perfect for the lioness genome.

Matt - the oldest - was the first to arrive in the cell. He knew about the second phase, but didn't understand why we were so important. He wanted to know why he was chosen for the Project. He hids himself from the world. He lurks in the shadows. The panther was the best choice for Matt.

Jenny - slightly older than Sara - was litterally overflowing with potential. She was the optimos of the group. Sometimes no one listens, other times, she had every ears and eye trained on her. Jenny was the fastest runner here. The cheetah suited her perfectly.

Chester - that's me; younger than Matt, but older that Jenny - was the "brains of the outfit". I knew what was going to happen to us. I wasn't afraid of what will become of us. I was a tiger, perfect for my attitude.

"Why do they want us? What did we do to deserve this?" Sara pouted.

"We're part of the Rage Project. They're going to be trained. For what I have no clue." Matt spoke boldly.

"They have been training us for a secret battle. We're to be used as the first line of offense aganst a new threat. Phase Three will send us to the battle field to exterminate the oposition." I clued in.

"Our oposition must be just like us, members of the Rage Project." Jenny added.

A woman in a white lab-coat followed by two armed, muscle-bound military men entered our cell. They had overheard our conversation.

"My name is Elisa. I'm the genetist that started this whole mess. I had no idea that the government would use high-school graduates for these experiments. However, I came here to tell you that your oposition have the same powers as you. Except for one fact, your oposition are that of the oposite sex. Your oposing team is composed of a male lion and cheetah, and female tiger and panther. They have been training for a month now so you'll have to catch up. The training exercise will be held in Africa in about five weeks."

"Don't worry your deaths will be quick and painless." The MP on the left of Elisa proudly blerted. He instantly raged into an incredible powerhouse of a lion. The MP on the right followed suit; he was a top-heavy cheetah. Everyone, except Elisa and myself, were shocked to see them rage. "My team can control their rage. You really don't stand a chance. It'll be better if you surender now."

"I don't think so, we'll show you." Sara protested. It confused the overgrown lion and top-heay cheetah. Elisa just laughed. Sara was confident in our ability... maybe a little overconfident.

We will see... in five weeks.

Our first week of training was filled with pain and joint stifness. We hardly weight trained so our muscles had to adjust. By the end of the first week, we had adjusted and showed some increase in strength.

The second week, IK told them the secret of controlling thier rage - don't let the rage control them. If it did, we wouldn't win the bout. our strength and mass starting increasing rapidly.

The third week showed even more promise. It was also apparent that training in our non-rage forms increased our mass and strength dramatically for our rage forms. We had a new edge, they may see small bodies while we are human, but we we as muscular as them in our rage forms.

The fourth week of training, the last week of training before the bout in Africa. No major changes in either form, meaning that there is a limit for power. Yet we may win this if we used our hidden tactic.

The fifth week was the a resting period for both teams. No trainng was the rule, but we could stratigize for the bout. It wasn't a game; it was a battle for survival.

Two days before leaving, both teams met each other. Each rage-animal was grouped together. I met my female counterpart. He name: Rhonda. Matt's counterpart was Lisa and she, too, was large. Sara's counter part, Damien, was still full of himself. Jenny's cheetah counterpart, Albert, didn't seem as cocky as the others on his team. The two men didn't change in mass, but a hint of doubt deep within Albert was sensed by the other seven. He could be their weak link. It wasn't much to go on, but it could mean his death.

On the day before leaving, we were measured for our combat uniforms. The uniforms were savannah camoflage; however, it was tightfitting and it stretched like spandex. It should be able to hold up for the size and mass changes in our rage forms. We also got to wear them to insure that they fit, at least in our human forms. Our rage forms seemed to be the only reason for the spandex. They didn't want to see how well the uniforms held in our rage forms. I guess that no one wanted to be on the recieving end of a rage induced attack.

"I know what will become of us." Albert softly spoke to us. "When they load us into he plane, we'll be gassed. No one will come back... alive."

Elisa entered the dressing area... with good news and bad news. "Those suits you're wearing have a GPS chip in them. It's hidden in the name tag. It is also wired to explode, so when you get on board the transport," she handed us new uniforms, "change into these. They're not wired for anything."

"That will help, but they may try to gas us again. How can we stop that, Elisa?" Albert questioned.

"There are mouth guards with the uniforms. They should kep the gas from knocking you out. Is there anything else I could do for you?"

"Cameras?" I asked. "Are there cameras on the plane?"

"No. No one will hear or see you once inside."

"We can plan the escape at that point. I sa if they want to get rid of us. we get rid of them first." Damien gestured.

"I'm all for it, but if we do that, how do we land the plane? Crashing it seems logical." I was getting stared at. "They would believe that we were killed in the crash." They nodded in agreement.

"But how do we survive?" Sara asked.

"We make a belly landing, then find a was to total the plane once we flee." Matt replied. "I have a trainers license. It's not a full-fledge license because I haven't passed the 'behind-the-stick' test."

"Hold on! Hold on! Don't get carried away. There will be guard with you to keep both teams from wasting each other. So you have to eliminate them first." Elisa warned.

"Don't worry we got a day to plan for our escape. It'll be a breeze. They haven't built a cage strong enough to hold us." Damien boasted.

"You got that right, Damien." Matt added. "They don't stand much of a chance."

"Well, it seems the eight of you have everything worked out. Good luck... and good-bye." Elisa left the room. Her timely departure gave me a small amount of wonder. She was acting strange, as it not herself.

Later that day, I ran into Elisa, she still felt rather odd. I asked her if anything was bothering her. She was suffering from Pre-Emtpy-Nest-Syndrom. We may not have been her children, but she felt like we were part of her. We were part of an experiment - her experiment. She may never hear or see us ever again. I understood her position, so I tried to confort her.

"We may not be physically here wih you everyday, but you know, mentally, that we're there... somewhere... living on and carrying on. So there is no real reason to worry for our well-being. We'll be just fine."

"Thank you," Elisa cried. She went in the oposite direction; I still felt a hint of uneasiness from her. I decided to leave it as that.

The next day we were forced out of our rooms at 4:00am. They allowed us to eat to our hearts content. The flight to Africa could be a long one, if the base we were held was in the U.S. Our final destination, Kenya, was being announced as we were being herded into an ordinary 737. At least we had the plane to ourselves and it wouldn't be drawing unwanted attention. The plane had extra fuel cells on the wings; it's making a long journey.

Once the 737 leveled off, we were allowed to move from our seats. Only four sleeping guards were with us, not much of a means of keeping the two teams apart. It was the perfect time to impliment the first part of Operation: Crash Course - destract and eliminate the guards.

We began to argue among ourselves, waking the guards. So far, so good. The guards began to separate the eight of us. We persisted in arguing, cuasing the guards to attack. Our prime chance. Damien and his team raged and killed the four guards. Instead of raged back, they attacked us. They lost control, Sara's team was in big trouble.

Since I had the experience of a controlled rage. I raged and made an effort to force damien and his team back. Damien lunged and knocked me over. However, I overpowered him, catapulting him several rows away. He got up and tackled me; I landed hard. He, instintively, tore the upper arm near the left shoulder.

Out of anger, the others raged out of control; I was alone. They ingored me and began to focus atttacking each other. A thrown chair struct one of the blackened windows, breaking it. Cabin pressure was dropping and soon there will be no breathable air. Since they had ignorded me, I moved towards the cockpit.

I opened the door to the cockpit, Damien appeared out of nowhere, pushing me to the side as he rushed into cockpit. The plane began to jerk and swerve. I hunted down a parachute that was cleaverly hidden behind a panel marked "PARACHUTE". I took my change of clothes and entered the rest room.

I totally removed the torn and bloodstained one-piece suit and discarded it. I opened the package Elisa gave me and relized that I had grabbed the wrong suit. It was Damien's; I had no choice but to wear it - there wasn't a second to spare. The package contained a pair of lycra shorts, a short sleeve rash guard and a filtered mask. The mask had no perpose since there was no gas. Damien's name was embroided on a tag sewn on the short's left leg and one-third of the way down on the front-left of the jersey. I strapped on the parachute after putting on Damien's suit. I left the rest room.

Avoiding getting made into someone's meal, I quickly ran to the escape hatch near the tail of the plane. I opened the hatch and dove out as the plane began to settle. As I left the plane, I heard the engines sputtering; the plane was nearly out of fuel. The plane disappeared beyond the horizon when I finally deployed the parachute.I was certain that they would parish in an eminet crash. I was truely alone... alone carrying the ability of transformation.