Grass is green, the sky is blue, I don't own, so you can't sue.
Summary: During our lives, things happen to make us who we are. After all, monstrousity is defined by actions, not by birth. ((Rating for mentions of torture, and possibly for future chapters))
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A green light bathed the room in a dark, eerie glow. Tubes and other such objects filled with what seemed to be a viscous acid-coloured liquid hung from the ceiling and walls like veins and arteries, all leading to one chamber at the rear of the room, one stasis capsule containing their prize work, their best experiment yet. The young boy, (for he was indeed a young boy, around fourteen years old,) floated gently in the green fluid, the only thing alluding to his life was a soft breathing coming from the mask over his mouth and nose, and the steady beep beep beep of the heart-monitor, the fluctuations of brightly coloured lines on a computer screen.
"His breathing is stable, as is his heart. His mental activity has increased since yesterday, as has his blood pressure. Maximizing Y feed, and I'll bring down the concentration to point zero eight." A man in a white coat, with a badge pinned to the pocket reading his name; Dr. Frank Johnson said, glancing at a monitor and making notes on a clip-board. His glasses glinted in the dim light, as he glanced to the boy, an unearthly shiver ran down his spine at what they were doing. Adapting life. Some could have said it was wrong, but it was for the benefit of all, Professor Radek had said, that they would make history with this project.
He had read the files of projects Genesis and Exodus before this, both done on adult males of full prime condition, who had served at the organization for many years and were their greatest assets. Both had died, once a hormone that Radek called the R-gene had been introduced to their bloodstream. Their goal was to create a living human regenerator, to make a man capable of fighting head on with the monsters that were slowly making their way back into the human world. His eyes scanned another monitor, looking for flaws that would allure to the boy's condition deteriorating.
It was their ability to change, Radek had said, or lackthereof, that had meant that projects Genesis and Exodus had perished. Their cells were unable to mutate, and as such, their body had rejected the R-gene and it had turned into a poison, killing off their cells, the exact opposite of what they were trying to accomplish. The boy was from the orphanage; so they needed no consent to run tests on him. Perhaps it was wrong, but it was the way it was. Radek said that because the boy was little more than a child, his genes would adapt much better to the introduction of the hormone, and their experiment might just succeed.
He looked at the boy, who continued to float gently in the fluid, his eyes closed, and the mental feed they had from him showed the scientist that the boy was infact asleep at the moment. Good, the lab would be traumatising enough for a grown man, it was lucky for both them and for Experiment number 696 that he was still under heavy sedation. He wondered, why they had a need to sedate the boy in the first place. He was a thin, weak looking child, with dusty blonde hair and looking at the pictures in his file, seeming to have something ever playing on his mind. The report said he was religious. Yes, that was it. There had been a bible and a rosary in the boy's personal effects. He was described by the matron as a caring boy, if a little occupied at times, and he was very good with all the younger children.
Johnson glanced down at the picture, noting the boy's bright, deep blue eyes, and faint smile. Johnson knew that if he peeled back that mask on the boy now, and opened his eyes, they would be that same blue colour. He also knew that if he peeled back that mask, there would be a livid gash across the boy's cheek; Radek had cut his cheek open with a knife so that they would have evidence if the R-gene were to make any difference to his genetic structure.
He felt almost a pang of sympathy for the boy, first he had no parents, and now he was being subjected to experimentation at the hands of the Vatican's research lab, Section Four, Bartholomew.
"Very well. Introduce the R-gene." Radek was a tall man, with an unkind smile that didn't quite ever reach his eyes, his light hair was pulled back out of his face, and all the time he spent down beneath the Vatican in the secret labs had been entirely unkind, giving him an unnaturally pale complexion. A lot of the scientists referred to him as the Section Spectre, for the man had an uncanny ability to walk without making a sound, to appear right behind you without you realizing it.
"A-are you sure, Professor? The boy's barely been on Y feed for three weeks, isn't it a bit early to be introducing the gene now? Exodus and Genesis were kept under stasis for months before the gene was introduced!" Johnson protested, he wanted to run more tests, diagnostics, anything that could keep Experiment 696 alive for that little bit longer, he didn't want the boy to become the third victim to Radek's quest.
"Who is the head researcher here, Dr. Johnson?" The unkind smile made its place on Radek's face, as his black eyes bored into the younger researcher's very soul, it would seem. "I said, introduce the R-gene."
"V-very well, Professor." He pulled a lever and turned a dial to his left, the fluid in the tubes turning a bloody red colour as it flowed through the stasis chamber and into the boy himself. Suddenly, a burst of bubbles at a constant and violent level issued from the mask on the boy's face, and a quick glance told Johnson that the boy wasn't flatlining, but his mental responses had spiked off the chart. The boy was screaming.
He could almost imagine it, a loud, unearthly howl of absolute excruciating agony, as if his every fibre was being ripped apart and stitched together; Thats what would have been happening to him, yet still the boy's heartrate, although quickened in his pain, remained constant, where as with his predecessors, it had flatlined after three seconds of the introduction of the R-gene. Radek's smirk grew, and he purred.
"Yes, that's it, Experiment 696, fight it!"
Johnson flinched, and drew away, just as the boy fell still once again, his heartrate slowly returning to normal, a little blood leaking from the gash on his cheek, but no more. Radek made his way over to the chamber and peered into it. He let out a triumphant noise, and turned to Johnson, a malicious glee in his eyes.
"God has smiled upon us today, Doctor Johnson. The boy has induced partial regeneration. It will leave a scar, but if we continue to press on with the gene, he will soon be able to regenerate wounds flawlessly. Experiment 696.. Project Anderson."
Over the next two weeks, the boy was introduced to the gene time and time again, Johnson present each time to carefully administer it, and each time Radek showed up, the boy was introduced to new methods of torture, each carefully testing his limits, with results greater each time. Today, Johnson was checking the boy's vitals as usual, when Radek came into the room brandishing a long syringe with a needle attatched, around 5 mm thick. He walked up to the stasis capsule and searched for the silver-coloured depression, before pushing the needle through the node and into the boy's skin.
Experiment 696 writhed and thrashed within the capsule, a wordless scream issued as nothing more than bubbles filling the capsule, and Johnson's imagination. This continued until all the liquid in the syringe was gone, and the boy fell still. Johnson could have sworn he saw a tear move from the boy's eye, crystal clear in the thick green fluid.
Radek turned away to note his data, as did Johnson, carefully scribing each reaction the boy had to each method of testing.
Two deep blue eyes opened, and the heart monitor gave a monotonous beep.
With unnatural speed, Experiment 696, Alexander Anderson shattered the glass with one fist slammed through the inches thick wall of the capsule, the wall shattering, water flooding the tiled flooring. Radek's eyes grew wide, and the boy turned to another researcher, his hand moving swiftly through the man's ribcage, tearing his heart free and casting it aside. The mask was ripped from his face as the boy turned in a rage to the next man, then the next, cutting down each one as though they were straw dolls.
Finally, only Radek was left.
"You're a monster! We've created a monster!"
A voice, cold, numbed by torturous ministrations, hatred and absolute utter rage.
"Let me show you how monstrous I can be."
A loud, piercing scream, a shrieking cry, then silence.
He woke up screaming, the bedsheets covered in a cold sweat, deep blue eyes searching the room in terror, drawing in a deep, sudden, gasping breath.
Monster.
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Reviews are encouraged and greatly appreciated, as always. I'd love to hear future pairings you'd like to see.