It was a rarity nowadays at Mount Massive Asylum, an asylum mainly for the criminally insane, to hear the echoing sound of click clacking of heels in the halls leading to the Morphogenic Engine. Because of "Project: Walrider's" fatal side effects on the female patients and staff, they were transferred to another facility. Women weren't allowed on the premises, save for a few who had special access for a limited time per day to keep exposure limited. Very few of them knew about the experiments with the Morphogenic Engine, let alone would get anywhere close to the engine. Save for one woman, Dr. Jennifer Roland.
A hissing sound filled the air as the large steel and glass doors to one of the autopsy rooms opened up, allowing the curvaceous, tall, prim and proper ebony haired woman enter. She scanned the room with her bright cerulean eyes, examining the white sheet that was draped over yet another victim to the morphogenic engine. She was a young beauty and just 23 years of age, but most were quick to learn not to underestimate her because of her young age or beauty but to admire her for her high intelligence. A child genius that graduated from the university top of her class and had her first Master's Degree by the age of 16, she delved into medical examinations and has been in the forefront of anatomical research, recently in hormonal therapies. Her advances in those fields was the reason Jeremy Blaire personally hired her onto the project as a consulting contract. The machine didn't seem to affect Dr. Roland so she was basically there round the clock either performing autopsies or examining the patients who had just been through the morphogenic engine experiment. Truth be told, it really was starting to get to her and she had made numerous requests for leave, yet she never got a response.
She sighed deeply, rubbing her temple with her left hand to relieve an oncoming tension headache and drinking the last sip of her energy drink, that nowadays didn't do jack for her energy, before she put on her latex gloves and her surgical mask. The Murkoff security had barged into her room while she was taking a nap and forced her to come down there immediately to do the autopsy on the patient. Grabbing a voice recorder from her lab coat pocket, she flipped the recorder on and began to record.
"Date is September 12, 2013. Approximately 7:30 pm. This is the preliminary autopsy for patient number: 921," she began to read out loud from the case file left on her desk for this patient, "According to case file, patient is male, Caucasian, height: 6'1, and weight: 250. Will remeasure height and weight of patient in procedure with Murkoff protocol. Time of death, according to onsite report filed by the orderlies and Murkoff security, was approximately 7:15 pm September 12, 2013. Patient 921 had just ending testing of hormone stage 3 in the morphogenic engine when he used an unexpected strength to get out of the hold of the orderlies. Patient began to charge at Murkoff staff in the engine room thus security began use of tranquilizers via tranquilizer guns. When that had not worked and only increased the manic episode, Murkoff security was forced to use lethal force and shot patient 921 multiple times."
Dr. Roland then laid the voice recorder down upon her table of tools that stood next to the examination slab, took her hand and lifted the white sheet up and off to the end of the slab so she could begin her medical examination. She looked down at the large man on the slab. Tumors and lesions riddled the man's body as she had seen with other patients, a sign that their bodies were not accepting the therapy. "Superficial examination of the body show numerous of tumors, ranging from 1inch in diameter to 9 inches in diameter, on the body. Along with many lesions that seem to be caused from a necrotizing facilitis. Similar to the many of the other patients who have been through the morphogenic engine therapy. Will need to take samples to examine any changes in the cellular level. Patient also has 13 gunshot entry wounds to the front of the body; 2 in the right arm, 3 in the left arm, 5 in the upper abdomen, and three in the cranium. Will need to flip over patient to check for exit wounds. Cannot do at this time as my medical assistant has not yet arrived."
The woman, showing slight exhaustion sat down in her rolling chair, still talking aloud, but more freely as she had before, "This is my fourteenth autopsy of a patient in the Walrider experiment. Honestly, I'm not sure why we have so much hope in this senile nazi's far-fetched theories when we could be using a much simpler mechanical engine based on major sperm protein," she took in another deep sigh, shaking her head slowly. She really needed a vacation from this place," After examining toxicology report, I will probably recommend harsher chemical restraints for the safety of the patients and staff. The restraints appear not to be chemically interacting well with the hormone therapy as we continue Project Walrider. Actually it seems to be causing a counterproductive effect on the patient."
Finally, as Jennifer had finished talking, her assistant had come in to help her move the body for the examination. Lifting the body and rolling it over so the patient was laying on his stomach, she took into account by writing in her notes and drawing pictures the exit wounds and more of the tumors and lesions that riddled the backside of him. Rolling him back over to be laying on his back she continued with her autopsy. Dr. Roland opened the patient's body open with a large Y incision and taking a bone saw to the ribs and sternum as well as the cranium, she examined and took samples of each of the organs, the tumors, and lesions on the body to take a closer look at them on the molecular level. She also drew blood from the patient to run a toxicology report. When she had finished running the tests and felt satisfied with her examination of the body, she took her final notes down so later on she could type up her report for the executives.
Opening her mouth widely, she yawned loudly. Her assistant had already left after all the heavy lifting had been done. Looking up at the clock, she noticed the time was 11:45 pm. She had done all she could with the body so she was ready to go to bed again. Just as soon as she had laid the white sheet back over the body, a voice came over the intercom.
"Dr. Jennifer Roland, you are needed in the Morphogenic Engine Room immediately. Dr. Jennifer Roland, to the Morphogenic Engine Room," The tired woman sulked when she heard them paging her. They really had to page her when they more than likely knew she had just finished an autopsy? She groaned miserably but got up from her desk, throwing her surgical mask and bloody latex gloves in a small tantrum into the garbage can, where she was finishing up her report making her way. She exited the autopsy room but took her sweet ass time to get to the Morphogenic Engine Room out of spite.
"Ah, Jennifer you're just in time," Mr. Blaire, the head of Mount Massive Asylum, greeted her as she entered the laboratory that held the engine, she went over to the side by the door and hanging her lab coat on a hook and putting on a coverall suit over her gray pencil skirt dress she wore and surgical mask on as he continued to speak with her, "We just finished with Gluskin. Unfortunately, the therapy did not take so he's basically a dud." As he talked, the orderlies were pulling Gluskin out of the chamber, red blisters scarred his body making it peel in spots. His bloodshot eyes, though drowsy and half closed from the experiment looked over toward the scientists and doctors on the other side of the glass as he was being taken away. Although the experiments with Project Walrider were painful, as shown by the lesions and tumors a lot of patients had, Jennifer truly had no sympathy for most of the patients.
Most were criminally insane and did terrible things to people and were getting what they deserved in her book. Especially, Gluskin. After reading and seeing pictures of what he had done, she especially had no sympathy for him whatsoever. Troubled childhood or not. She hated when she used to have to do examinations on Gluskin. It seriously wanted to make her gag at all the bullshit charm he tried to use on her. She eventually got pulled off from having to examine Gluskin as they had to continue to use more and more restraints on him.
There were other patients that weren't as bad as Gluskin, some seemed pretty tame, like William "Billy" Hope, though odd, he never hurt anyone she was aware of and seemed pretty nice to her. She felt a little bad about Billy but...he did sign up for it or someone in their family signed him up for it and knew there could be consequences.
Jennifer huffed as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail before putting the hood over her hairline. She watched as yet another patient once again failed, being sent back to his padded cell. "I could have told you that, Mr. Blaire. The only person that I see fit is William Hope. Through my examinations, he's been doing remarkably well with the hormone therapy. He's our best match yet."
Blaire smirked, "And lo and behold that's who were testing next my dear." He turned around, him and Jennifer walked down to where the engine was, past the glass wall. There, they were bringing in patient 174 aka William "Billy" Hope. The orderlies didn't have to restrain or hold on to William as much as they would have the other patients. When he saw Jennifer he smiled at her, "Good evening Dr. Roland. You look tired but still lovely as ever…they're not working you too hard are they? Especially after the autopsy with patient 921."
Blaire gave Jennifer a slight glare as she looked flabbergasted. "Billy," she began, "What are you talking about?"
"I dreamt about you doing the autopsy for patient 921 before I came here, it's sad but you are very detailed and go above and beyond Murkoff protocol with us," He smiled a knowing smile while Jennifer's mouth was agape like a caught fish, "I also had a dream about my mother's lawsuit against Murkoff again, but she doesn't have to worry. All will be better soon."
Jennifer looked at him quizzically, wondering what he meant by it being better soon as the orderlies began to hook him up into the pod. When they had finished, Jennifer went up to the glass he was inside of and started talking to him in a calm soothing voice as she began the machines to give him an anesthetic and read his vital signs, "Alright Billy, just relax, everything will be fine."
Billy nodded as much as he could with all the tubing and wires that were protruding from everywhere imaginable in his body as the pod closed. Drugs to help him go into lucid dreaming as the pod filled with fluids. Once the pod was filled completely, the precursor molecules started to be injected into his blood stream. Cameras were put into the pod in every angle so that the doctors and scientists could monitor any change in his appearance or health. If he began to show growths or lesions on his body then that meant the nanite production process was failing. Jennifer watched carefully the readings on his vitals on a computer back behind the glass. Blaire watched as another scientist read aloud the percentage of the injection had been put into Billy's body.
"75 percent, 80 percent…"
"No visual or readings indicating rejection of the nanites on the cellular level," Blaire grinned from ear to ear, seeing a lot better progress with this patient compared to the others.
"85 percent…90 percent…95 percent, 97, 98…99…"
"Shit," one scientist cried out, "He's making a lateral ascension!"
The alarms started to set off, the sound of the morphogenic engine still going, however computers were shut down and the cameras to the engine were shut off. The lights then suddenly went out, save for the emergency lighting, leaving the majority of the asylum in darkness.
Confused, the scientists looked around the laboratory and at each other wondering what had gone wrong. None of them spoke.
