Once upon a time, there lived a husband and a wife on the edge of a forest near a small village. The husband, Richard, was a man of science and theory. He was well respected throughout the village and the countryside. His wife, Rebecca, was a woman of god, and attended mass at the local church every Sunday. So when Rebecca bore a son, they named him Adam, for he was the first.

After Adam was born, the doctor told the couple that Rebecca wouldn't be able to bare anymore children, if she did it would kill her. It looked like Adam would be their only child. They each took this news and grieved in their own way, but like it or not time moved forward. Winter turned into spring, spring turned into summer, and Adam began to grow. Before either Rebecca or Richard knew it Adam had grown into a young man. It was then, when Adam reached the age of 12, that Rebecca learned she was once again with child.

It was a girl. Both mother and daughter died in childbirth.

They buried her on a cold day in October, in the small cemetery near their home. After the death of his beloved Rebecca, Richard began to lose touch with reality. He spent most of his time in his cellar, leaving Adam to raise himself. But he soon grew lonely for his father's company.

One day he opened the cellar door that lead to his father's laboratory. Adam, quite as a mouse, crept down the shanty cellar stairs. When he reached the bottom, he peered around the corner. His fathers stood in the center of the dimly lit room. He was hovering over a table, muttering choice words under his breath. Adam found as hard as he tired, he just couldn't see what his father was working on. So he crept further into the room and crouched behind a shelf that had been covered up with a white cloth. There Adam sat and watched.

After what seemed like hours, his father stopped what he was doing suddenly, and looked around. It was almost as if something had disturbed his work Adam held his breath as his father took a few steps toward him. He then stopped, muttered something about the kitchen, and rushed up the cellar steps. Adam let the breath he had been holding out in a sigh of relief, and carefully crawled out from his hiding place.

Adam had never been in his father's lab before. He had always been told to stay out of it, and yet it was always there, right below his bedroom floor. Looking around at the test tubes, and glass beakers that lay stacked on shelves, Adam could see why he wasn't allowed in here. Papers, open leather-bound books, and jars of ink laid scattered on his father's desk. Machines beeped, whirred, and made nosie all around him. Adam was fascinated, and wondered to himself why he had come down here earlier in his lifetime.

Adam stepped into the center of the room, where the table his father had been hovering over lay. On top of the table lay a human, or at first glance looked human. But as Adam got a closer look he discovered it was made of crude, scrap metal that had been hastily welded together like a patchwork quilt. It had no face, only empty eye-sockets and a gaping hole, where the eyes and mouth should be. Adam reached out, he needed to touch it. For some reason this . . . thing called to him. His small hand landed and settled on what would have been the cheek of a human face. That's when Adam noticed a shadow had fallen over him. Adam spun around and came face to face with his father. Richard's eyes were wild, and his graying hair stuck out like wires from his head.

"What are you doing down here?!" He demanded his voice booming through the room. Adam just stared up at his father dumbstruck and terrified. "Get out!" Richard roared, causing some test tubes to shake on their shelves. Adam darted away from his father, back up the stairs, and into his small bedroom that lay at the back of the cottage. There he hid under his bed until well after his father fell asleep.

But even after his confrontation with his father in the basement, Adam was still curious about the metal body that lay on the wooden slab table in his father's laboratory. Every time he passed the cellar door, Adam would stare longingly. He would wonder and wish he knew what his father was doing down in the dark and dank depth that lay below the cottage.

More time past, and Adam grew older; the curiosity only growing with him. But it wasn't until he reached the age of 17, he finally got enough courage to re-enter the basement.

That's where our story truly begins . . .

End of Part One