Disclaimer: I do not own any of the DC Comics's characters.
Whispers of the crackling electricity echoed through unhearing ears. Glazed eyes rolled into the back of their head, yet eyelids refused to close. Agony bolted up and through limbs faster and harder than the brain could process: no screams were made.
There was no idea of how much time had passed since day one, but it felt like an eternity to the bruised, battered, and violated form being held up only by the freezing table with straps at the neck, upper and lower arms, wrists, chest, stomach, waist, thighs, and ankles preventing any form of resistance. Spittle effortlessly trailed down a pale and gaunt cheek to join the puddle of watery crimson below.
Voices murmured around the figure, excitedly discussing the success of the experiment. They'd found the perfect candidate to test their machine and it'd worked splendidly.
"Shall we move on to phase two?" one asked, a bulletin board and pen resting easily on his forearm.
"No," replied another. "Subject Seven must be given time to recover if we want any sort of results."
"Quiet, Spencer," snapped another. He scowled and glared at the younger scientist. "Phase two must be initiated before recovery and healing can begin. A sense of what has transpired cannot be afforded unless we don't wish for the payment we were promised! The Light will have our heads if they find out we strayed from instructions!"
Spencer flinched and backed down. Her gaze hardened and she looked at her own notes. "Dr. Blaize," she called over to the man standing next to the test subject, "proceed to the next level."
Dr. Blaize nodded and grabbed the various needles on the cart in front of him. He stared at the test subject. Small trickles of blood from previous testing were lost in the greasy, unkempt hair. Measuring out where to insert the needles, unfocused eyes stared straight through him.
"So many… too much…" Subject Seven lolled out, the words bordering incomprehensible. "Fifty-two…"
His head tilts to the side for a split second before turning his attention to his comrades. They were all writing furiously on their papers. Good. They'd heard that as well.
He plunged the needles into soft flesh and watched the liquid inside flow out of the needle and directly into the subject's brain.
The subject's mouth opened to let out a screech but nothing could be heard by the scientists, or by anyone for that matter. Not even Superman heard what the subject heard as he flew around the Earth, trying desperately to find the missing person.