Greetings, I am the Warrior of Virtue. This is my first Sly Cooper fic, so I hope it's good enough for you. This is basically a one shot to give an OC I thought up a while back a proper introduction. I don't even know if I'll ever use him again. But, my mind won't stop screaming until I put this down on paper…uh…type. This is set during Sly 2, before Sly and Murray are sent to the Contessa's house of horrors.
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Disclaimer: I do not, never have, and probably never will own Sly Cooper.
WARNING: This fic gets very violent near the end.
Now, without further delay, I give you…
The Birth of a Demon
At the University of Colorado, a young wolf was just returning to his dorm. His name was John Lycan. He had just finished his last class for the day and was looking forward to some shut eye. He was about half way there when he noticed how quiet it was. His last class had run late and most of the other students had already gone back to the dorm or had gone home. John could feel his wolf senses heightening. The sun was almost down and he did not intend to be out after dark alone. Little did he know he was anything but… Six pairs of eyes stayed glued to him as he quickened his pace. The mysterious figures made there way behind him quietly. The one in front signaled another who leveled a rifle at the retreating form. With a hiss of air, the projectile was fired. John yelped as he was hit in the shoulder with something sharp. He quickly pulled out the offending object and looked at it.
'A dart?' Before he could think much more on it, his vision started to blur. 'Oh crap! What was in this thing!' He stumbled for a moment before he fell to his knees and landed face down on the ground. His attackers ran forward and cuffed him. The leader pulled out a radio.
"This is squad E, target has been apprehended." John summoned up the last of his strength to look up at his attackers. They wore full body Kevlar suits like S.W.A.T. team members. He noticed that the leader had an insignia on his shoulder. He focused his clouded vision as best he could and stared at it. It was a globe of the Earth, with scales under it, a sword running through it, and two herbs with berries on each side of it. At the bottom was one word, INTERPOL.
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John slowly came to. He looked around and saw a number of people in lab coats walking around. Some were operating equipment or talking amongst themselves. Most, however, were staring at him intently. He looked toward one and opened his mouth to speak and was surprised to see bubbles. His eyes widened and he realized he was wearing a mask and had been striped down to his underwear. He was in a damn test tube! He looked around the lab in a panic. One of the scientists, a brown owl with thick glasses, signaled the others.
"He's awake! Inform the Contessa." Several scientists rushed out to fetch whoever this Contessa was. The owl, obviously the one in charge, stepped forward. "Greetings my young friend, I did not expect you to regain consciousness so quickly." He grinned in a way that did not promise anything good. "I see my faith in you was well placed, Subject 3925." Before anything else could be said, the lab door opened and a massive female spider stepped in. In his entire life, John couldn't remember seeing anyone who looked even remotely as sinister as this woman. She walked up to the tank and spoke in what sounded to him like a Romanian accent.
"Is this the new subject, Professor Richards?"
"Yes Madam and he's already showing promise. He shrugged off the tranquilizer hours before it should've worn off." The Contessa glared at John, studying him carefully.
"But he is so…puny."
"Yes, but that was actually intentional." When she shot him a furious look, he quickly explained himself. "All of our previous test subjects who made it to Phase 5 possessed tremendous strength to begin with. I believe this is why they reacted the way they did to that stage of the enhancement process. We pushed them far beyond their physical limits. Their bodies simply couldn't handle the strain. I believe that a subject with lower to moderate strength could be pushed to the boundaries of their limits without exceeding them. And also, he possesses other qualities that might interest you."
"Such as…?"
"An above average I.Q. and impressive speed and agility. He will serve our purposes very well, I'm sure of it." The two continued their discussion while John listened with interest. Apparently he wasn't the first one to go through this. If his number was any indication, almost four-thousand others had been captured in the same way he was and something had happened to them, something bad by the sound of it. He again tried to speak, but the air mask muffled his voice, so he tried tapping on the glass to get their attention. They looked at him for a moment but went back to their conversation. He growled and began banging on it but only succeeded in hurting his hands. "He doesn't seem happy about his new accommodations."
"Well he's about to hate them." She said with a sadistic look on her face. "Begin Enhancement Phase 1."
"As you wish, Madam." He went to a console. "All personnel prepare for Phase 1." John stared in a mixture of fascination and dread as the owl and his team began operating the machinery that controlled his new home. He then heard a bubbling sound. He looked up and saw that a large rubber tube was transporting a strange green liquid to his tank. The substance made it inside and filled out the tank. The moment it came in contact with John's skin, all he knew was pain. He roared in agony as every square inch of his body felt as if it were on fire. The scientists watched the monitors for any sign of rejection. Richards counted off the phase in his head.
'Phase 1: Use of a specific combination of chemicals to increase the elasticity of the subject's skin, muscles, and ligaments. This will make them more difficult to tear, as well as increase the subject's flexibility. In 70 percent of previous subjects, the formula was rejected, severing the subjects' molecular bonds.'
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The Contessa lounged in her quarters and thought about the new subject who was now undergoing the first Phase of what she and her top scientist, Professor Richards, had called Project Nightshade. In her career as an INTERPOL warden, she had become as corrupt as you can get. And with the wealth she had inherited after the mysterious death of her husband, she had built her own prison, where she could use her mastery of hypnosis to steal the loot of criminals to further her corrupt ideals. She had managed to find a few crooked officers in INTERPOL'S leadership. With them in her pocket, she was able to gain tremendous influence over a large number of INTERPOL squads. She literally had her own private army. She was now using what was left of her wealth and the loot she had stolen so far to finance the final phase of her master plan. The creation of the perfect assassin. A warrior without equal and without conscience. With such a fighter under her command, no one would challenge her authority. She would, for all intents and purposes, be ruler of the world.
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The procedure went on for days. John was given short rest periods between treatments. Eventually, the scientists stopped the treatments and examined his stats. Richards approached the tank and hit a switch. John watched in horror as a mechanical hand descended into the tank. He held up his arm defensively and the hand grabbed it. John struggled to free himself but the hand held tight. He stopped when he noticed a second hand enter the tank. It moved to his trapped arm and grabbed his hand. What happened next left him stunned. The arm easily bent his hand back until it was parallel to his arm. This should've broken his wrist in half but it didn't cause any damage at all.
'What the Hell did they do to me?!' Richards was ecstatic.
"Excellent! Phase 1 was a complete success!" He turned to one of his subordinates. "Inform the Contessa we will be moving on to Phase 2 tomorrow morning."
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The next day, John was waking up from the first peaceful sleep he'd had since becoming a lab rat. He'd enjoyed it as best he could, since it would probably be his last. He looked up to see Richards and the others preparing for the next phase.
"Good morning, my young friend. Sleep well?" John gave him the finger. "Charming." He turned toward his fellows. "Begin Phase 2"
John looked up as the mechanical arms from before entered the tank. Before he could stop them they grabbed his arms and held him spread eagle. He then felt a light prick from one of them. He didn't have long to think about this though as his eyes suddenly erupted with pain. He struggled as his eyes burned mercilessly. He quickly realized why his arms were being held. It was to prevent him from ripping out his own eyes! He continued to writhe as Richards counted this step off.
'Phase 2: Injection of a unique serum which will significantly increase blood flow to the subject's eyes. This will result in a drastic increase in vision. 50 percent of previous subjects to reach this phase suffered retinal detachment resulting in permanent blindness and were subsequently disposed of.
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These treatments continued for one week. When the torture finally ended, John felt like he had the worst case of pink eye in history. The moment his arms were free, he rubbed his eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the burning. Richards approached the tank with interest.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" John just growled in response. "Well, time for a quiz." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a writing board. "Can you answer this question?" To John's surprise, the question was "Two plus Two equals what?".He gave Richards a perplexed look before holding up four fingers. "Good. Very good." He walked toward the others with a satisfied look on his face. 'What our little friend doesn't realize is that this question wasn't written with ordinary ink. The ink is so faint that to anyone with normal vision, the board would look blank. Phase 2 is a complete success.'
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The next day, John woke to the sound of machinery. He knew that something bad was about to happen when he saw everyone manning their stations. He immediately spotted Richards and glared daggers at him.
"You might as well accept your fate, my young friend. You're not getting out of there." He turned to the others. "Ready the controls. I will be performing this phase personally." The other scientists hit a series of switches which caused a control panel to appear in front of the tank. Richards went to the panel and grabbed a pair of control sticks. Before John could react, the mechanical arms from before once again restrained him. This time there were enough arms to almost completely restrict his movement. Then an additional pair, clearly under Richards' control, entered the tank. What happened next would haunt John until the day he died. One of the arms used a surgical laser to open his skin. He screamed in agony and instinctively tried to break free. "I wouldn't struggle too much if I were you. I might hit something vital if you don't calm down." Seeing the wisdom in his tormentor's words, John resigned himself to his fate and tried to remain as still as possible but he silently swore that if he ever got out of this, he'd personally strangle Richards with his own intestines. John couldn't see what the arms were doing. All he knew was that the pain was indescribable. Richards carefully performed the procedure while counting off the phase. 'Phase 3: Surgically bonding titanium alloy to the subject's skeleton. This will render his bones virtually unbreakable. 80 percent of all subjects to reach this phase suffered metal poisoning. And the first to reach this phase suffered a fatal allergic reaction at which point we learned that one of the chemicals used in this procedure reacts badly with sedatives. All subjects since have been conscious. After all, their comfort is of little concern.' Richards was just finishing the procedure by the time his mental check off was done. He used the laser to weld the last incision shut and pressed a switch which made all of the arms withdraw. John just floated in place. The procedure had taken over five hours, and had left his body horribly scarred. He was both physically and mentally exhausted. He had just enough strength to flip Richards off before he lost consciousness. Richards ignored the gesture and went to one of his assistants who were monitoring John's vitals. "How is he?"
"He seems okay. No sign of metal poisoning."
"Good. We will begin Phase 4 as soon as he recovers."
"Yes sir."
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John awoke almost four days later. His body had healed considerably. The pain of his latest ordeal had been reduced to a dull ache. He shook the cobwebs out of his head and looked outside the tank. Richards and his team were assembled, as usual, around the tank.
"Sir, the subject has regained consciousness."
"Excellent. We will begin Phase 4 immediately."
"Yes sir." Before John could ponder what his next ordeal might be, he received a sudden shock, literally. He felt his entire body tense up as a jolt of electricity ran through him.
'What the…?!' Another soon followed, and then another. John yelped with each jolt. Richards, as usual, simply counted off the phase.
'Phase 4. By repeatedly exposing the subject to electrical current over an extended period of time, the subject's central nervous system will steadily increase it's own electrical current. Not only will this increase the subject's reflexes, but it will also increase the number of electrical impulses within their brain, potentially tripling their thinking capacity. 95 percent of subjects who reached this phase were either killed by the current or the alterations in their nervous system caused severe psychotic breakdowns.'
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For almost a month, John was exposed to electricity, each jolt slightly stronger than the last. After the final jolt, which was almost comparable to the power generated by a hydro-generator, John's torment came to an end. He looked up just as one of the mechanical arms approached his face at high speed. He quickly grabbed the arm before it could reach him.
"Magnificent!" Richards was hoping around like a school boy. '50 meters per second and he caught it like it was nothing! Phase 4 is a success!'
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John slept for six straight days. When he finally came too, he prayed that this nightmare was finally over. His prayers went unanswered.
"This is it, ladies and gentlemen. Phase 5. If the subject survives, he'll be the first." John gulped upon hearing this. This last phase was that horrible? "Begin phase 5."
Before John could think, a purple liquid was transferred to his tank. John's mind frantically tried to conceive a way out but in the end, he resigned himself to his fate. The liquid filled out the tank, and once again, all John knew was pain. Richards one again mentally counted off the phase.
'Phase 5. The use of a new type of drug originally intended for use by the military. The subject is essentially exposed to a massive amount of synthetic protein which will rapidly increase the subject's muscle mass. So far, all subjects to reach this phase died of a combination of ruptured skin and crushed bones and organs. It goes without saying that this is the reason that the military ultimately scraped the drug.'
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The torment lasted for days. All John could do was sit there as his body slowly tore itself apart. That and imagine gutting Richards. His muscles would occasionally convulse painfully as they were forced to grow at an unnatural rate. But, mercifully, his suffering finally came to an end. Richards looked up at him in awe.
"I knew you were the one! Oh, the Contessa will be so pleased!" he turned to the rest of his team. "As soon as he recovers, begin the final phase." John looked up in shock. There was more?! The shock, combined with his exhaustion were too much and he lost consciousness.
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The next time John opened his eyes, he found himself strapped to some sort of table. And he was wearing some kind of full-body suit.
'What the...?' Before he could ponder further, he heard voices nearby. He twisted his head around in the direction and saw Richards and one of his assistants talking too a vulture. It looked like the assistant was holding some kind of blade.
"I thought there was something special about this one. After this final phase, he will be complete."
"What is he wearing?"
"It's armour constructed from an artificial alloy that took me half a lifetime to develop. It's almost five times harder than diamond and yet as light as feather. Virtually indestructible. We've prepared a sword made from the same alloy. These, combined with his physical enhancements, will make him invincible."
"It had better. My mistress does not take disappointment well."
"I'm sure the mind shuffler will work perfectly. It was set by the Contessa herself, after all. Though I would feel much more confident if she had allowed us to use the Clockwerk Eyes."
"My mistress requires the eyes to deal with a few rats. It can not be helped."
"Well, enough chattering. Let's get started."
The next thing John knew, the table was rotated so he was almost vertical. He was then face to face with some kind of machine. He assumed and dreaded that this was the mind shuffler they were talking about.
"Begin the procedure." Before John could think any further, a strange energy emanated from the machine right into his eyes. It than felt as if his head was being scrambled. He struggled as a strange impulse slowly took over.
"Go to sleep. Let your mind just drift away. Surrender your body to my will"
'No. NO!'
"It is useless to resist. You exist only to carry forth my will. To destroy my enemies."
'NO! I won't listen to you!'
"Why? I offer you peace, locked within your mind. Just go to sleep, have a nice happy dream for all eternity."
Little by little, John could feel his mind shutting down as the mind shuffler slowly destroyed his mental defenses.
'NO!NO!NO!NO!'
"NO!!!!!!"
Summoning up all of his unnatural strength, he tore himself loose from his restraints. The mind shuffler's effects, having not yet set in, quickly wore off once he left the path of the energy. He looked up with raw hatred in his eyes as his tormentors stared at him in shock and terror. Before anyone could react, John charged the professor's assistant, ripped the sword out of his hands and then sliced him clean in half. The entire lab was now in a panic.
"SECURITY!" Richards quickly ran for safety as his colleagues were slaughtered by the half-crazed warrior they had created. John had just finished impaling a fox when several doors opened and armed guards stormed in. "Kill him! KILL HIM!!!" the guards, who were joined by the vulture from before, opened fire on John. To his amazement, he could see the bullets coming. And they seemed to be traveling in slow motion. he side stepped one volley, and deflected another with his sword. Richards stared in horror. Between John's enhanced vision, reflexes, and thinking capacity, he could actually dodge bullets. The soldiers stared in shock for a moment. That was all the time John needed. He charged the vulture and sliced his legs out from under him. As the vulture screamed in agony, John moved on to the next soldier and eliminated him with equally gruesome efficiency. Before even one more shot could be fired, the entire squad was eliminated. Richards, defenseless, slowly retreated to the back of the lab as John approached with murderous intent. When his back hit the wall, he collapsed into a sitting position, almost in tears, as John stopped just a foot away from him.
"We dreamed of creating the perfect warrior." with that, John grabbed him by his collar and dragged him up to eye level.
"You succeeded." With no further delay, John ran the scientist through.
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As he walked out of the facility, John noticed a symbol on the wall. It was the same symbol he'd seen on the uniforms of the men who'd brought him there. The symbol of INTERPOL. With a snarl of anger, John slashed the symbol and continued on.
'INTERPOL. You did this to me. And for that, I will make you all suffer.'
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(One Year Later)
The streets of London were a war zone as no less than thirty INTERPOL agents fought for their very lives against an enemy unlike any they had ever encountered. They fired wildly in all directions as the mysterious warrior swiftly moved all around them. One moment he was there, the next he was gone. And each time he appeared, one of them died. A young weasel, fresh from the academy, shot blindly at the slightest hint of movement. It wasn't until he stopped to reload that he realized he was the only one still firing. He looked around in a panic. They were all dead. He felt something approaching from behind. He swiftly turned around and opened fire. The warrior actually blocked the bullets with his sword as he calmly approached his prey. Soon, the weasel heard the all too familiar click of an empty gun. He began to slowly back away until his back hit the wall of a nearby building. The warrior, a wolf, stopped just a few meters from him, sword in hand, ready to end his life. In terror, the weasel spoke.
"Who are you? What are you?!" The wolf answered in a voice that dripped with hatred.
"My name is Moonsabre. And I'm what you monsters made me!" With that, Moonsabre decapitated the young officer. He sheathed his sword and casually left the scene. 'Killing these maggots is rather dull. There's got to be at least one among them who can challenge my strength.' As he walked by, he noticed a newspaper in one of the cars his latest victims had been driving. For some reason, he felt compelled to take a look. He picked it up and examined the front page.
"Inspector Fox Commended"
"Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox of INTERPOL was offered a special commendation for her role in bringing down the Infamous Fiendish Five and, despite false allegations against her at the time, the Notorious Klaww Gang. However, she declined to receive any such award stating, quote, "I will not accept such praise until I have completed my life's mission and brought Sly Cooper and his band to justice." A noble sentiment. It is this reporter's opinion that inspector Fox is the finest agent that INTERPOL, or any police organization for that matter, has ever seen."
Moonsabre discarded the paper. His face taking on a sadistic grin.
"Inspector Fox, perhaps you will provide me with a decent challenge." With that, he calmly left the scene of his latest massacre, laughing maniacally.
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Well, that's it. Please tell me what you think.