He carefully made the last incision, catching the blood with a foul smelling rag. The potion staining it, seeping from the material into the flesh. The skin puckered at its touch, curling away in disgust at the foul concoction. As it permeated the flesh of the patient, each muscle, its tissue twitching violently, reacted. Strangled screams vibrated from the throat. The patient strained against the straps, the body going into convulsions. Limbs kicked and grabbed at the air, unable to go far, they were strapped to the table upon which the patient lay. Veins and arteries stretched, becoming visible underneath the skin, they rose, like welts over the body. The patient's eyes, cloudy and white, rolled back into their head, they seemed to shiver and twitch. Blood flecked foam dribbled from the patient's purple distended lips, obscenely huge against the delicate structure of the face. The skin crawled, like hundreds of tiny insects were beneath its surface. It moved as if it were its own entity. He watched in pleasure as the hair, usually firmly rooted within the scalp, snaked to the floor strand by strand. The muscles and delicate tissue wasted away as the patient gasped their last breaths of air. Their lungs disintegrating along with the rest of the vital organs. A gargle, as blood and other fluids rushed through the lungs, travelling up the throat to wash away the foam… and then silence. Or almost silence. There was still the soft sound of thudding and nibbling as the potion ate away at the remains of the human that used to lie there. An irregular droplet of fluid hitting the cold cement floor. A sporadic hiss as gas or air escaped, the room filling with the strange fumes that he had now grown used to. Beckoning to his assistants he bade them take the corpse and throw it in the pit with his other victims.
They scuttled in, dressed in surgical green; only one person was needed to carry the rapidly decomposing form. The face barely recognisable as the child it used to be. The others set about picking up the artefacts strewn about, cleaning the blood and stuffing the hair into a refuse sack. A shabby little teddy bear, with a tatty ear and one eye hanging from a string watched sadly as the remaining possessions of its owner were stuffed into the bin along with the hair.
He rapped at the chamber with his pen, writing notes on the forms attached to the clipboard he carried. He could see his own reflection in the glass observation pane. The water inside distorting him slightly. He studied himself, taking in the cold jade eyes, the glint of malice ever present in his stern expression. Heavy hooded eyes, snakelike, not many people liked to meet his stare. His forehead, unusually bulbous, seemed to droop overshadowing the tiny spectacles perched on the end of his nose. Greasy black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, straggling down the back of his lab coat. The thin lips pulled into a sneer as he looked beyond himself and into the eyes of his experiment. A Shinra army soldier. Infused with mako the man had become little more than a beast. Human features had given way for a grimace of pain, heavy scaled skin scarred with burns and pockmarks. The body, once a prime specimen of male finesse was immense, the skin once more heavy and scaled. It looked like armour, encasing the frailty within. It too was pockmarked and scarred. He smiled in satisfaction seeing the welts from numerous beatings and whippings. It may look like armour, but it bruised easier then normal flesh. This creature, with claws, fangs and bulky muscles, couldn't even protect itself from a simple leather whip.
More notes… the pen scratched, echoing eerily in the dark chamber. Glass tubes, each containing an extract of Jenova lined the walls, they glowed an eerie violet. They pulsated, each being kept "alive" by a fine electric cable connected to a generator. The electricity pulsing through them, lighting them up like sinister fairy lights. If he had been any sort of whimsical being, he would have called them eerily beautiful. Instead he looked at them with the cold calculating mind of a scientist. Imagining the immense possibilities he had here. All he needed was a suitable vessel. He would create a being that would be able to destroy the world. Not the planet itself. He needed that. After all, he knew that there were no other alternative planets to live on. He had studied each and every one as a possibility. No… he had to leave the actual planet unharmed. He wanted to rid the place of its infestation. Of the people that roamed its surface. That wasted the spirit energy, the mako power on heating their homes and cooking their food.
He had researched and experimented for many years. He had found a way, to artificially create life. He would clear this planet of the sub standard race of humans that cluttered its surface, and replace them, with his new super breed. Jenova enhanced beings that would never age, never die. They would build great civilisations, create great inventions, and be so technologically advanced and superior. Of course..., he reasoned with himself, keeping a few buxom young blondes, and maybe some intelligent brunettes would be a good idea. After all, he needed to procreate… He laughed to himself. Nah he was just horny. He liked the idea of having a harem. As the laugh echoed, dancing off the stone walls, the Jenova reacted, pulsating more wildly at the sound of his voice. The light brightened, showing the implements of torture imbedded in the stone. The shackles and manacles from an old world dungeon. The solitary flask in the corner, glowing deep burgundy. The one extract of chaos that he had managed to sift out of that miserable failure. Valentine. The name made the bile rise in his throat.
She writhed at the bonds tying her to the chair, he watched in satisfaction as she tried to buck herself free. He liked the victims that showed a bit of spirit. Her little friend lay in the corner, a massive purple bruise disfiguring her chubby face. He had picked up these two outside a house downtown. They had stood outside, their loud chatter and irritating laughter causing the neighbours to grimace and close their windows. It didn't drown the noise out… they tried turning the music up, or turning televisions on full blast, but still they could be heard. He had been driving through the normally pleasant street, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his hair; blonde, a new wig he had purchased. The street echoed with a babble of different television programmes, well known theme tunes vying for attention amongst the rabble. These two girls were still laughing loudly and lewdly at some pathetic joke. Hojo had felt himself get irritated, the Jenova inside him writhing, begging to be let free. He had pulled up outside and let himself in at the rickety brown gate. Reaching into his overcoat pocket, he pulled out a heavy piece of polished wood and smacked them over the head with it, before dragging them into his car. Around him he could see the neighbours peeking out of the windows, no one made a move to help them. Slowly the noises of a hundred different TV programmes died down, leaving only the usual whoosh and swoop of the cars travelling past.
Hojo marvelled at the cruelty of those neighbours as he watched her squirm, her podgy frame drooping over the sides of the metal chair. Her hair straggled from its crude ponytail, blonde and wispy. It framed the white face, smatterings of freckles over the long snub nose and fleshy cheeks. The cold cerulean eyes, always sneering, always judging. He knew the type. She always looked down on those around her, always deemed herself to be better than those she chose to make her friends. Never happy unless she was making others feel miserable in order for her to feel superior. And all under the pretence that she was some shining pinnacle of a human being. She would be perfect, to test his strains of Jenova on. To see how they distort and rip apart a hosts body to tend to their needs. He could mix the different varieties in this human cauldron, and grow whole new species to withstand the weapons Shinra had developed. Ah yes… the remarkable Shinra.
It rose like a phoenix from the flames. From the ruins of Midgar it rebuilt, a mysterious president at its head. No one had ever seen him, nor heard his name. Some whispered it was Rufus, salvaged from under the huge desk in the blown out Shinra tower, after weapons attack. Others said it was possibly Reeve. It was strange. Those people you thought were safely dead, being removed from the lifestream and brought back to life, their consciousness so powerful that it prevented them from disappearing entirely. Hojo was one of them. It was widely believed he died, while firing the mako cannon at the northern barrier. All records showed he no longer existed. He ventured outside in disguises. He praised the person who invented the art of prosthetic faces. He was drawn out of his thoughts by his assistants… they had come to give the victims a sedative. He would not work on them tonight, merely keep them prisoner until he was ready to perform the experiments. They would remain sedated; already their voices had irritated him beyond all belief.
He sliced the smaller one up first.
It was fun, watching the taut skin burst open, to reveal chunky yellow fatty cells. Blood spurting onto the table around him, pooling on the floor. This girl overindulged. Chocolate and alcohol still present in the stomach, when he plunged his hands in, elbow deep into her innards, squishing them around like so much play-doh. Her lungs mottled coal black, how long had she smoked? She was barely in her mid twenties. He removed them all, grinning sadistically. Around him the metal bars of cages rattled, the scent of blood teasing his experiments. He pulled and industrial blender onto the side and began loading her organs into it. Eyes, gouged out with a spoon… rather unorthodox, went in first. They were followed by her lungs, liver, heart, kidneys and others, all slippery and slick with blood. Placing the lid on, he flicked the switch, buzzing it to life. Her organs were liquidised into a strange red goop; it looked slightly like tomato juice, but smelt repulsive. Black flecks from the lungs floated in it, Hojo covered his nose and mouth. The beasts went wild as he poured it into silver dog bowls and slid them into the food hatches of the cages. Slurping and scratching followed as they sank their faces into the goop, happily devouring the raw bloodiness.
Hojo watched in satisfaction, wiping his bloody brow with the back of his hand. The beasts lounged in their cages, occasionally belching. He had finished with the small girl… slicing her up, liquidising her and feeding her to his pets. She had proved no real value to him, other than to give him some practice at hacking up women. He had been used to experimenting on men, it had been a while since he had the opportunity to slice and dice a female. The perfect precursor to the annoying freckle faced one. She would have to be operated on rather more carefully. Each incision had to be perfectly placed; each extract of Jenova had a place. They would combine inside her to create a super breed… but if he went wrong... Then it would provide a massive failure, a waste of precious equipment.
He went to check on his Jenova. His favourite room in the whole of the run down house he called a lab. The purple glowing soothing to him. The samples he had prepared for the other girl had been taken off the wall and placed on the table top. They were connected to a car battery. The specimens writhed around in their glass prisons, splatting against the smooth elongated sides with extreme force. Hojo chuckled as he thought what they'd do to the girls much weaker body. He still had to set up the solitary confinement cell, set his cameras up, and sort out the security. If this change was to be as volatile as he expected, he wasn't going to risk getting hurt. Although it might be fun to throw a couple of beasts in there, once his aides came back from capturing them. Hopefully the Jenova would incorporate them into its final form.