For Sam, living alone wasn't too bad in her old age. She enjoyed a plush little house in an upscale part of town. What was really hard was how stiff her back and knees were, now. She was no longer the spry rebellious woman she once was, but rather now the neighborhood "grandma." Though her fortune was extorted, she found many ways to spend it altruistically. Many a neighborhood teen who had slipped on a car payment could find help from Grandma Sam in making it. She never had any kids of her own, but adopted a pair of twin sandtiger sharks to raise as her own. She never married but was never without the companionship of someone close. To say that Sam took the path less traveled would be to imply there was ever a path she actually wanted other than her very own. She adopted when she was 67, making her very old for a mother but she was always blessed with excellent genes and was in outstanding phsyical shape for her age. It wasn't until her 80s did she really start to slow down. Age hit her like a freight train and with only in a matter of years she found herself feeling older and frailer as the days wore on. However, she was still healthy enough for her age and was more than able to see off her daughters to college.

The night's silence was only broken by the gentle rain that pitter-pattered down on the Earth. Sam rocked gently back and forth in her recliner, thinking of only what tomorrow held. Her daughters were coming home from college just for the weekend and she felt like a kid at Christmas time all over again. She worried after the passing of her mother and father that she might feel alone in her age, but that just wasn't the case with those great kids of hers.

"--with an 80% of thunderstorms in the morning. In other news, Today marks the landmark 'Bite Back at Crime' legislation allowing--"  She clicks off the TV and slowly stands up out of the recliner. It was rather late and felt like it might be time for bed. She paced easily up stairs, counting each step as she did. The stair case was against one wall with the otherside wide open and it was illuminated dimly be a small bulb burning an orangish yellow color in the darkness. The old wood staircase creaked as she ascended it and the floorboards did to. Stepping infront of the mirror in her bathroom, she examined herself closely. Lines and creases covered her smooth skin, but in all she didn't look too horrible. Her teeth still gleamed a pearly white and she carefully brushed them; Sharks could regrow teeth with out a problem, but why go around with an incomplete smile? After her bathing and washing needs were complete, her bed welcomed her touch as she rolled gently into it and tucked in for a night's rest.

Her eyes became heavy and she smiled softly as she drifted off to sleep. She'd just finished a book the night before and was worried that she might spend this night, of all nights, tossing and turning. But, those concerns dissipated as the comfy mattress of her bed supported her so well. Dreams were to come. Dreams not of peace or loved ones, but of combat. The old warrior might settle down, but are they ever truly not a warrior anymore? And Sam was definitely a warrior. The smell of gunpowder seemed so vibrant and real, the weight of the melee weapon could be felt in her hands. The hours felt like seconds or even less as she slumbered.

Morning came, or so she thought. She woke up and felt a lot better. Her back and knees were so stiff the night before, but now they felt amazing. Sam pondered over the wonders of what a simple good night's rest could do. The room was pitch black and she must have kicked her sheets off in the night. However, when she got out of bed, she noticed that the floor felt different. Most wouldn't notice, but a shark's senses are so finely tuned and acute, she detected it immediately. However, she admitted it might just be a figment of her imagination. Even after 85 years, her mind was as sharp as the day she was born. Sharks tend to stay mentally sound through out their lives. It was time to freshen up and get ready for her vistors. She collides with a wall, throwing her mind into confusion. She'd lived in this house for 20 years, she knew this room by heart and navigated it at night. How could she have made a mistake like this? Again, she chalked it up to nothing. 'Must've gotten turned around in my sleep' she thought as she finally located the bathroom. Feeling for the light she turned it on, her face already transfixed on the mirror. When the lights flick on, she finally comes across a happening she can't explain.

The face that stares back at her and mimics her for every action is not that of an age but of youth. The wrinkles, creases, and faded markings were gone and her skin was soft, the markings vibrant and belonging on a young leopard shark. She couldn't believe it to be true as her hand patted all over her face. As hard as it was to believe, it was her. Her deep crimson purple hair and vibrant blue eyes gave her right away for these were rare traits in leopard sharks. In her shock she didn't notice her hands until after she had felt up her face. They were not natural, but creations of science. It all felt like real skin from her perspective, but it wasn't. It was obviously some form of manufactured material that might have mimiced muscle. She had read about such materials, but those were years away. Glancing back to the mirror, she looked even closer to notice her lower jaw was very much artificial as well, though it wasn't a dark grey such as her hands. It was of the same coloration as her belly and underside, matching it very well. It felt just like skin, but again, it wasn't.

Sam was confused and, for the first time in a very long time, scared. She took a heavy stumbling step back on the tile. Clank. The sound mortified her. She didn't want to look, but had to. Her legs, too, were of the same build as her arms; that artifical muscle fiber on metal frame work. She looked herself over for more of this combination of nature and technology. Her body seemed to be skin, but limbs, tail, and jaw were definitely mechanical. It was soon after her self examination the room lights flicked on. It definitely wasn't home. The walls were white brick and a single uncomfortable hospitable bed where she laid in the middle, surrounded by medical equipment. Sam snaps around briskly to face whoever might have done it.

"Oh my God..you're awake...! You're up! you're working! You'-"

"You're a fucking DEAD MAN if you don't tell me what the fuck is going on!" She pointed aggressively at the disheveled fox in lab gear. Despite her rage, she couldn't help but notice the strength that coursed through her as she flexed her arm toward him. She never felt this strong, even in her prime in her late 20s, early 30s. She shook away the distracting and redirected her attention to the fox. "I'll tear you limb from fuzzy limb if you don't tell me what this is!"

"Oh! Calm yourself, ok, I'll go over it all.. uhh.. hehe Welcome to the future! You have been in a state of.. well.. construction for about 10 years. What are your memories from... uh well last night?"

Sam paused and thought. It wasn't hard to remember "Well.. I watched the news, talked to my kids.. and went to bed."

"Well, allow me to be the bearer of bad news, Ms. Saiga. You died in your sleep. You were laid to rest a week later, but I was fortunate enough to save you!" A finger depresses to his head. "Your brain! I've kept your brain in a nutrient.. bath.. well in layman's terms, the best preservative you can imagine. It was most exquisite! Shark brains just don't seem to age! And my needle work is impressive, your daughters didn't even-"

The fox pauses as Sam stomps right up to him and menaces him with rage filled eyes. "You expect me to believe this bullshit?!"

"Uh.. uh did you watch a forecast? Last night... I mean?"

"I did."

The fox nervously tears away the curtains to the room and light pours in. It's a beautiful day with wide open blue skies and not a cloud in sight. "Was this forcast.. heh..?"

"... the.. forecast was thunderstorms..." Sam couldn't believe it. Sure weather reports were almost always wrong, but never this wrong? "No.. no the reports could be wrong." But, they weren't. Not this time. The cars that whizzed past outside looked much more advanced than anything she'd seen. Her face darted about in confusion as she took in a world that was oh so familiar and yet oh so alien. 

The fox slowly reached for a small handheld radio and clicked it on. "--with nothing but sun for the next week! In other news, motorists, violent crime is at an all time low says city police sources, citing the Bite Back at Crime legislation signed ten years ago." He placed hand on her shoulder "Welcome back, Saiga."

It was the final nail in the coffin or rather, in Sam's case, out of it. She had been "dead" for ten years. Her friends? Family? All gone, no doubt, with the exception of her-

"I have to find my daughters. They're all I have." She turns to storm out when the fox speaks up.

"Nah uh uh uh!" He laughs a little, finally reaching for a remote "No no no, you go no where, missy."

Sam always hated pet names from strangers and she slowly turned to face him. He paced closer with confidence.

"You see, I didn't bring you back out of altruism. I brought you back for a purpose. Just like a rifle or bomb, you are a weapon. You belong to me."

Sam stayed silent, sizing him up, wondering what he could possibly do to her.

"You will obey exactly what I say and what I want. Having frivolous family ties will only damage your effectiveness!"

It was settled for Sam. This was a man she needed to do away with, whether lethally or not. She stormed toward him with hostile intent but, before she could reach him, a splitting headache rocked her and down to her knees she went. She clawed at her head in the sheer agony of it. It was both pain and pleasure, with rebellious thoughts causing pain but thoughts of cooperation being rewarded with warmth. It left her confused and she hated being confused more than anything.

"Yes, yes kneel to me! I am Ronald Harrington! I am your master and you will get me everything I've wanted; a doctorate! An institute.. ahh ..ahh. money! Hahaha! I'll be the leading professor of neurosciences! You will be my crowning achievement! A top specimen like you! Oh you will ascend to God-hood! You wil-... what the..!?"

Sam was already back on her feet, hands clenched to her head, and teeth bore. Her eyes practically screamed for murder. The fox upped the intensity of the mental punishment to its maximum in response, causing her knees to grow weak. She belts out a loud "NO!" and strenghens her resolves "It's clear I died and you brought me back to life in this bastardization of skin and metal, but I spent the last 5 years of my life in sheer weakness! I'll be damned if I ever feel weak again!" With that her hands clinched around his neck and crushed it. He rasped out in agony, sharing in her discomfort. Without effort, she lifts him off his feet and cackles through the pain of his attempts at mind control "Hahah! Did you think a little shock collar to the noggin' was enough to fucking control me!? Do you know who the FUCK I am!? I'm the greatest outlaw that ever did live! I robbed entire cities, I practically rolled over every casino on the strip in Sin City! I've killed crooked lawdog and terrorist alike by the fucking bushel, who the fuck are you!? A scrawny little shit of a medical student that doesn't wanna do the work it takes to get to the top? Think you can be an outlaw like me?!" She laughed again before letting him drop to the floor in a weak pile of exhaustion. She brought her foot down onto the remote, flattening it. The pain instanly melted away, but not her rage. The fox cowered weakly against the wall.. and begged.

"Please... Please! Don't.. don't hurt me! I'll get rid of the mental collar, I swear, I swear it!"

"Who the FUCK are you, Ronnie? Who the fuck are YOU!? When you were getting dumped in high school, I was settling down and raising  family. When you were learning to walk and still shitting your drawers as a matter of protocol, I was hunting slavers and murderers! When you were swimming in water, I was probably overseas, hunting some of the worst mafia bosses to ever live! AND before your fucking parents even fucking conceived you, I was the scourge of almsot every police department and crime syndicate around the world! I am motherfuckering Sam Saiga! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!!??" She drew out the last word, pointing an accusing finger down at Harrington who was on the verge of tears. He finally stands back up, hands raised defensively "I'll get rid of the mental collar.. I swear, just turn around, I promise I won't hurt you."

Sam does just that, quickly turning herself around to allow him access. It was actually a simple band of electronics that was attached just behind the jawline, across the back of her skull. Harrington removed it without delay. "Ho-hold still, I don't want to damage this.. er... not to imply anything but.." The collar came off. Sam shook her head from side to side before rolling her neck as it came free. "I could've.. well killed you.."

"Good."

"Good!?!"

"A favorable outcome to slavery. I know what death is like, after all. Eternal sleep and peace is a preferrable fate to living to serve another as property." Her gaze stared back at the fox and practically through him. "I'm going. I will be back."

"..where ar-"

"Where the fuck do you think? My kids."

"You can't just walk out there?! People will be terrified to see a cyborg, there are la-"

"Good! Back from the dead, and I'm already breaking bullshit laws!" She laughs a little before realizing something very important: she was naked. "I could use some threads, though."

Harrington points to a dresser. When she opens it, there are a pair of black BDU pants and vest inside "It.. it's just like what you used to wear."

She picks up the vest and slides it on. Pausing to think, she reflects on her past "life" for a moment. "So, my biggest fanboy turns out to be a Frankenstein Wannabe that went klepto on my brain.... my fucking brain, dude you have fucking issues, you know?"

".. how come I knew you were going to compare me to Victor Frankenstein..."

"'Cause maybe you're not usually this stupid?"

"..why do you have to be such a bitch!?"

Sam stumbles into the pants and hops over to the fox, belting them up as she reaches him. She prods his chest with a finger and says "Because, that's how you don't end up a victim, kid. Life wants to shit on the weak. The strong will always seek to exploit those down on their luck. The only way to get around that is to be the most stubborn and unrelenting cunt there is. That's why I'm a bitch. I don't get taken advantage of. I already was once, never again."

"I'm actually.. 29.." 

"Fuck you, I'm 95! You're a kid to me. Oh, How long will this.. last" her hand motioned up and down her figure.

"This.. OH! How long will you live.. I.. I don't know! But.. with regular work done on you, the number could be... a long time!" he repled with an eager nod.

"Huh... well. I tell you what. You do that work on me, I'll see what I can get done for you, how's that sound? You get your.. whatever you want, and I get to tell death to kiss my spotted ass. Deal?"

".. that does sound preferrable to find out what that peace you talked about was like... you know death? Ok, deal!"

"BUT!" she shoved him against the wall once more "I don't do assassinations nor will I kidnap anyone. I'm not criminal muscle for anyone."

"G-got it! Yeah ok! Haha.. awesome here's my-.. wait where are you going.." Sam was practically already out the door after he finished agreeing.

"To my kids, Ronnie. You got a girlfriend?"

".. not.. really.. well it's complicat-"

"Go to her. Life is sweet and it should never be taken for granted..." Sam's head tilts back to him, her nose pointed skyward, and the most amazing thing happens: tears well up in her eyes. She gets a wide and crooked smile she finishes "..it is a sweet and precious commodity and, up until now, it was utterly irreplaceable. I'll thank you when I come back. I want to know more about my body. Later!" With that, she was gone. Out the door and into the fresh air of the outside world. The sun seemed warmer and lovely as it radiated onto her, the breeze more welcoming and gentle as it kissed her skin. The grass seemed greener and fuller, softer and cooler to the touch as she ran her 'bare feet' through it. Colors, sounds, and smells were all just so more vibrant to her now. She was overwhelmed with emotions as she came to realize the gift she had been given: a second chance. A chance she didn't need, even. She had lived the most full and amazing life as it was but to be given a chance for another crack at it and a potentially longer one at that? She vowed she would not squander a moment for however long she lived this time around.

She lowered into a squat, feeling artificial muscle burst into strength. It felt amazing. When she extended her legs, her form was propelled skyward in a mighty leap, clearing 20 feet as she soared. Wonderment turned to horror as she realized that physics most definitely still applied and that they hadn't changed a bit in her abscense. She slams to the dirt path that lead to the secluded little house next to the highway. She was fine, but felt a warm stinging on her cheek. She reached to feel it and, when it came under examination, was greeted by the familiar red of her blood. Joy exploded from her chest as she laughed hysterically. She was alive once more, but then a horrifying thought came to her. 

What if this was just a dream? What if she was still the same decrepit old fart in reality? This was the stuff of science fiction, after all. It was all too good to be true. It was only a dream. Hope turned to sorrow and agony as she glanced down at the ground once more. The pain she felt during the mind control attempt was so vivid, but then again it was bizarre. It really wasn't pain as you would normally think so. It was more like a voice in her head saying 'this hurts, this is not comfortable' over and over rapidly. Like so many times in her life, she'd gotten her hopes up. She sat in the dust, languishing in her self-pity as tears streamed down her cheeks. It was at this point she decided to wake up. Years alone in childhood, being picked on by her peers, had left Sam with the ability to tear herself awake and out of a bad dream. She looked around at this world once more. It all seemed so amazing, so perfect, but it was just a dream. It was time to wake up. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She didn't want to live a lie, after all and this was a lie. It would be over when morning came, anyways. It would be best to get rid of it sooner rather than later. It would, however, make for an amusing story to tell her daughters when they came over. And she was a healthy sharkette, who's to say she wouldn't live to 100 or more? Acceptance came and she breathed a longing sigh before committing to the idea of waking up. She'd done this hundreds if not thousands of times and soon the familiar pattering of rain and thunderclaps would welcome her.

Her eyes opened once more, awake from the dream. Eyes scanned her surroundings as she looked for her familiar belongings. She doesn't see them. Instead, she sees those same bright blue skies, green grass, warm sun, and feels that cool wind. She hadn't woken up yet. She tries again, squinting hard and pulling her eyes open once more, only to find the same result. Acceptance turned to panic as she thought she might be in some kind of coma. She got to her feet and ran out into the open grassy field by the freeway. Her eyes whipped around for any clue that something might be off, that this is all some kind of construct of the mind, but her senses didn't lie. It dawned upon her to try a simple test. She sprinted back to the dirt foot path and found that running possessed a new physical satisfaction to it. She cleared the distance at a tremendous rate a paused to reflect on it. She was really that fast? She shook it from her head and grabbed a hand full of the dry sand. Without pausing, she ground it right into the scrap on her cheek. Nerve-endings that had been exposed let her brain know that it was very much awake and she was very much in reality. The seering pain never felt so good as she let go of the sand with a curse and a hearty laugh.

She was indeed alive. Harrington watched the whole ordeal, greatly confused and in disbelief. She didn't care, she was off to find her kids.