I couldn't believe my eyes, but there it was, brand new and questionably legal, straight from the genelabs; a genimouse. Running from two snakes. No, running from one snake, but afraid to get close to the other. They were big snakes, evil, tongue sliding in and out, snakes like satan in the garden of eden, looking for whom he could devour, death come around for the killing, the spirit of the age looking for another victim.

And there was Joey, big strong Joey, football captain, high school hunk, hair on end and metal tipped, always in style, always sure and strong, heartthrob Joey. And he was pointing at one of the snakes with his silver tipped claws, the snake that had a large bulge, laughing that it had already eaten, that one of the freaks had already died.

Joey's dad, clawed and spiked like his son but also sporting dark grey scales on most of his body, heavier and with sagging jowls and T-Rex teeth, laughing, tapping on the glass with his ornate index claw, tapping, tapping, inciting the genimouse to panic. The mother, long neck swiveling her tiny head back and forth, squealing to leave the genimouse alone, paws fluttering to her neck, spending energy ineffectually, her tiny pea brain swiveling her bronto butt back and forth.

Before today, I would have given anything to go out with Joey. I wasn't the best looking girl in the school, but I wasn't bad I guess. I had opted for the saber gene splice. I flexed my paws, and allowed my claws to leave their protective sheaths. I am strong, I am fast, my breasts are just swelling- but I am warm blooded, and beginning to see that it might make a difference. Joey chose to be a reptile after all, and they are cold-blooded killers.

"Myna", my name, growled, startled me. My dad. I felt him stalk up to me. He took one look at the genimouse, with the mouse's tail, mouse's fur, and human hands and face, gene spliced as an aborted fetus, running from the snake, and growled, "That's wrong!." Dad, strong and decisive, knowing with a glance that this was wrong, wishing he could shield his daughter from it forever, striving against the reptiles lest we completely forget our humanity, that was my dad. Standing and fighting, against injustice and killing, against the slaughter of those that have no voice to defend themselves, those that have no rights, against a society gone mad, selfish killing to satisfy some imagined need, to satisfy the reptilian bloodlust, killing humans, well, almost humans, in a public park, tapping on the glass with a cold-blooded claw, cheering on death, cheering on the spirit of the age.

The young genimouse was looking around the glass cage, panicked, trying to find a way out. But it knew it was doomed. Without a doubt it knew. You could see the intelligence behind the almost human eyes, the eyes pleading for mercy, every time it looked at me, I knew it was screaming for mercy, though it had no vocal cords and could not talk, they couldn't take a chance on it talking, on it yelling, on it pleading for mercy. I knew it was silently screaming for mercy and I did nothing.

Dad began pulling me back to the hovercraft. The genimouse beat on the glass, mouth open in a scream. Screaming for mercy, for someone to save it. No, not it, but her. Definitely a her, small, tortured, but definitely a human, a girl, a baby girl, beating on the glass, the snake rising behind her. Screaming. I closed my eyes so I could not see the silent screams, and I did nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all.

But I would never forget the silent screams of the innocent, and one day I would be a full grown saber tooth woman, and then those cold-blooded killers would have a reckoning. Oh yes they would. I too will one day stand with my dad, fighting for the helpless, fighting to stop the senseless slaughter, fighting against death when he comes slithering around for the weak and helpless, looking for the nameless, hopeless, those that no one seems to care about, seeking whom he would devour. Perhaps one day I would devour death.