Resident Evil: Project ADAM
Chapter 1: The Awakening
"Doctor Jennings, the specimen in Lab 2 is prepped and ready," a young nurse with short blonde hair reported through the thick glass window that separated the Lab from the observation room.
"Inject the specimen with 10ccs of the virus," Doctor Jennings commanded as he looked across at the writhing specimen that lay strapped down to the cold steel table.
Dr. Michael Jennings's young hazel eyes darted down to the heavy stack of files that sat on his lap. Although he was only sixteen years old and had worked for Umbrella only two years he had been assigned to this project as head researcher, which had come as a surprise not only to him but also to most, if not all, of his colleagues. Michael instinctively rubbed his rough hands against his tired face. The deep creases from stress and lack of sleep that lined his young face luckily made him appear to be twice as old as he actually was. Most of the people that he was working along side were older than he was which made him feel immensely uncomfortable in the laboratory. In an attempt to distract his thoughts of self-pity he unconsciously flipped through his seemingly endless stack of files on the project.
PROJECT ADAM
OBJECTIVE…IN RESPONSE TO THE LACKING AFFECT THAT THE NEMISIS AND TYRANT PROTOTYPES HAD ON THEIR ADVESARIES, UMBRELLA HAS COMMENCED WITH PROJECT ADAM. PROJECT ADAM WILL BRING UMBRELLA INTO THE 21ST CENTURY OF BIOWEAPANRY. THE BOW, CODENAMED "ADAM", WILL NOT ONLY MAKE THE TYRANT AND NEMISIS UNITS OBSOLETE, BUT WILL ALSO DOMINATE THE BOW INDUSTRY.
Michael quickly jerked his gaze away from the monotonous papers as a shrill scream split through the still laboratory. His gaze was quickly attracted to the writhing specimen that was throwing itself against the tight leather straps that bound it to the operation table. The specimen's toned, muscular arms jerked rhythmically against the restraints as it fought to free himself from it's man made jail. It might have once been an attractive young man, maybe around the age of 20, but the once youthful sparkle that might have once filled his deep green eyes had long since faded. His face now was spattered with the iron red stains of dried or drying blood and it seemed as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Not that Michael would have expected him to be pleased about being taken away from his family and friends and thrown onto a metal operation table. The young man's face reminded Michael of a man that used to work on B2 as a handler, someone who looked after the low level specimens after they had been injected, but Michael couldn't tell for sure.
"Doctor Jennings, I think we need to wait before we attempt to inject the specimen, because the tranquilizer still hasn't taken affect," the attractive blonde nurse said nervously as the specimen jerked against his restraints.
"We don't have time to wait, we're already behind schedule and Umbrella won't tolerate any more set backs. I'll just do it myself!" Michael shouted letting his aggravation and nervousness slip into his voice.
Michael couldn't believe that he was going to have to step in the small operation room with that man. It's not that he was scared; he just would have preferred to have the nurse inject the virus and then be able to make observations. That was his job, not having to put himself in danger because a tranquilizer hadn't taken effect. But if that were what he had to do to keep Umbrella off his back that is what he would do.
The stale operating room was starch white and smelled strongly of ammonia as Michael stepped into it. The room wasn't very complicated holding only a large steel examination table that was nearly nine feet long, along with several monitoring devices that let out short beeps and printed out various information in brilliant colors. The air of the sterile room felt cold against his warm skin as he quickly strode over to the quivering nurse.
"Give me the damn syringe," Michael ordered as he grabbed the syringe filled with the T-virus out of the nurse's hand.
Michael saw the nurse let out a quite whimper as he jerked the syringe out of her hand. He had too much riding on the success of this project to let some half-trained, nervous nurse ruin it. He quickly glanced down at the syringe as he strode over to the cold examination table. He could never get used to the grotesque look of the virus in a clear syringe. It looked like the thick green pond scum that Michael used to see at his child hood home in New Orleans, Louisiana, but this wasn't Louisiana.
As Michael grew closer he could smell the familiar smell of the old leather straps that bound the struggling man down. The young man's eyes seemed to plead with Michael as he reached the cold steel table, but there was nothing to be done. Michael felt for the strong pulse on the man's arm below one of the strong leather straps, but instead of feeling the rhythmatic beat of a pulse he felt a stabbing pain in his neck. It felt as though he had been shot as he felt a warm feeling come over his body radiating out from where the pain had originated.
Michael couldn't figure out what had happened, but he knew that his body was beginning to burn from the inside out and he was becoming groggy. It took all the strength he had but he managed to turn around before he fell to his knees, knocking over various medical supplies to the floor, and came face to face with the blonde nurse that had seemed so friendly before, holding another syringe only this one was empty.
"Wha-What are you doing?" Michael asked confused, as he fell the rest of the way to the white tile floor.
"Don't take it so personally, I'm just doing my job," the young nurse retorted with a slight giggle.
By this time Michael couldn't control his body movements as he began to spasm uncontrollably. His body felt like it was tearing itself apart from the inside out like he had swallowed a piranha. He opened his dry cracked mouth in an attempt to utter a word of astonishment, but he couldn't get a word out of his quickly collapsing throat. The once cute nurse now looked like an evil ringmaster as she giggled in glee as the blood vessels in his eyes began to burst giving his eyes a bright red tint.
"Aww, poor baby. I guess you didn't see this coming. We'll look at it this way, who better to test your project on than you. Besides do you really think that Umbrella would put some kid in charge of one of there top priority projects?" the nurse asked inquisitively
By this time Michael could do nothing but jerk rhythmically and look up at his torturer through tinted eyes. How could Umbrella do this to him, he had done nothing but what they asked. The realization that Umbrella had ripped him away from his hometown with a false dream of being a famous scientist that everyone would adore just to use him, as some experiment was truly tragic. How ironic was it that he would die by the very research he had been working on. With that last thought he let go of the life he had and succumbed to the devastating virus that would allow him to be reborn.
Jaden Dupree quickly strode over to where the Jennings' body had fallen to the ground. He body still quivered as it was beginning to be reshaped by the virus. He had been such a silly little boy to think that he was going to be the one handling the whole project. Umbrella had done a good job in picking the right doctor for the job; he had been willing to please, trusting, and of course young. The young part was the most important; to achieve the goal that the project was hoping to achieve the virus had to be able to reconstruct the person's entire body. With an older body it would have been much more difficult, but with a young body that wasn't entirely formed it would be easy.
"Dupree, move the subject into holding tank 3," a masculine voice commanded through the earpiece that had been hidden in Jaden's right ear.
"Yes, sir. Do you have any plans for the handler that was strapped down to the table?" Jaden asked eagerly.
"He's useless to Umbrella now. Do what you will with him," the masculine voice blared in her ear.