Right. This is my first attempt at a decent fanfic. So don't flame me or anything violent. If the response is positive, I might make it into a chaptered story:)
All criticism and feedback is accepted:D Thanks!
He lay there silently while the men in the white coats prodded at him. It was, after all, routine. It happened every day.
"Subject E-57 hasn't received his injections today. Give them to him now."
Now came the part that he dreaded the most. The part that gave him chills just thinking about it. The part that left him woozy at best and, at worst, thrashing in pain until he let unconsciousness take over.
The injections.
They said that he 'was a part of the greatest experiment of the century. The experiment would test the limits of the human body and astounding results should be expected now that there are real human subjects to be experimented with.'
Not to him, of course. They never talked to him. Not when he asked them questions. Not when he told them that it hurt. Not when he asked, no, begged them to stop whatever they were doing because it really hurt so badly.
"Subject E-57. Lift your right arm."
More than once, his body rejected the substances injected. He would keep on vomiting and vomiting until there was nothing left to throw up. Even then he still would continue retching, stopping only when he tried to swallow his saliva and was overcome with a violent coughing fit.
He watched as the man closest to him swabbed his arm and flinched only slightly as the needle was inserted into his skin, the syringe of transparent liquid emptied into his bloodstream.
They addled with his body and recently, he suspected, his mind too. He had been hearing voices, no, just a voice, in his head.
It was fairly disturbing.
Many times while he was on his bed, staring at the black spot on the white ceiling, he wondered if he was finally losing his marbles.
"That's a funny phrase. 'Losing your marbles.'" The voice had giggled at him once.
The room was suddenly bathed in hushed silence. Then a voice rang out.
"Take off the detectors. We have a negative reading. Dispose him."
"Subject E-57. Go to Room 433."
He opened his eyes, not remembering when he actually closed them.
Room 433. The Room of No Return.
He was going to be disposed of. Like a piece of rubbish.
He had no name, no memories, nothing. Just like a piece of rubbish.
After all, he was just a failed experiment with a voice in his head.
"We're not going down like this, Allelujah. We're going to live."