What...what happened?
Her world was darkness, coldness...and a growing feeling that something was wrong.
I...we were trying to get away, leave the academy, Jason told me to run and...
Michelle Rodriquez opened her eyes with a gasp.
Nothing but a muffled sound escaped her though, making her wide eyes glance down to see the black mask firmly latched to her mouth, it tasted of rubber and the blood of her split lip.
God, no, no, no...
She was breathing quickly now, the mask making it impossible to breathe through the mouth, and her nose was not enough to sate her panicking body's need for oxygen, making her dizzy.
She was held upright, but her feet didn't touch the floor. She couldn't move her head. Something cold and hard wrapped around the top of her head as well as gripping her chin like a vice. Neither could she move her arms or legs, both spread wide and held fast by ankles and wrists by metal clasps attached to a large metal ring holding her in its middle like a fly trapped in a web.
She was held within it, naked, cold...and her mind spinning as her vision blurred.
No! No!
Grunting, she pulled and twisted as much as her bonds would allow, pain flaring up in her ankles and wrists as her skin was chafed off.
It got her nowhere.
God, they got me, Cerberus got me, I'm going to die!
She was gasping, but no air would enter her lungs through her mouth and her nose flared as her lungs screamed for more air.
I need to calm down, I need to calm down, I need to calm down...!
The mantra didn't help, instead her eyes rolled back and terror gripped her as she noticed a Cerberus soldier suddenly walking up in front of her, the lenses in his helmet glowing crimson as he raised his pistol...
No! Don't!
Michelle cried out against the mask, pulling hard at her restraints as her body shook in terror.
I can't...breathe!
The stench of urine filled her nostrils...and darkness took her.
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Next time she woke, the stench of urine was still lingering...but the terror she'd felt was now replaced by a cold lump of fear in her stomach as she forced herself to take slow breaths...and open her eyes...
The Cerberus soldier still stood before her, pistol held in his hand, but now lowered. He was still looking at her though, the crimson lenses of his helmet impassive, neither caring about her nakedness, her fear or her gaze. They looked so...empty, as cold as the room, as if the soldier wasn't even human any more...Michelle shuddered at the thought.
Michelle tried to speak, but found the mask still over her mouth.
The Cerberus soldier just stood there though, could as well have been a statue...and she doubted she would get answers from him even if she could speak.
Instead she forced herself to take a deep breath and look around herself, or at least as much as the grip on her head allowed.
Don't panic...
She was in, besides the thing holding her in the middle of it, an empty room. The walls she could see were of glass, though the corners were of white metal large enough to be decorated by the Cerberus logo. She also glanced down, noting the floor was also the same white colour, but blemished by dried gore and blood that no amount of urine could clear away.
Don't panic...!
Shaking, Michelle squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing speeding up as her heart hammered in her chest. I won't die, I won't die, I won't die...please, don't kill me...
She shuddered...and then took another deep breath.
Okay, remember your lessons, be adaptable, consider the situation, act...
Opening her eyes again, Michelle found a small ball of courage within her as she eyed the Cerberus soldier before her. We fought them in the academy, I...I can do it again...I killed one of them...I can do it again!
Breathing quickly, more in fear than anger, she narrowed her eyes at the Cerberus trooper and activated her biotic implant...
Pain!
A spasm shot through her, her whole body shaking with pain, then going rigid as electricity shot through her every nerve, making her squeeze her eyes shut.
More urine, this time not out of fear but due to her losing control of her bladder, poured onto the floor.
Shame...Michelle felt her whole face going red with it; with being naked, with being powerless, with losing control of her body like that...yet the soldier in front of her remained impassive, as if carved from marble.
Not judging her.
The idea made her relax, if only a little, the idea of the soldier before her not caring one bit making the shame a little less immediate.
He doesn't care because he's not human...
The shame was replaced by a new bout of terror.
This time, however, Michelle managed to keep her breathing even, trying to keep in control even as with dawning horror she realised she was utterly and completely at Cerberus' mercy.
God...where's Jason?
She had always teased Jason Prangley, the do-gooder, the brown-nose, the one who more than any biotic on the academy had gorged down his meals. Yet she had also looked up to him. He had not only been the most powerful biotic in the Academy, but he had an air about him...a budding confidence that had made butterflies fill her stomach. As such she, with her good scores in theoretical studies and gymnastics meant to train a biotic's nerves had been all too happy to help him with his studies...
Yet then Grissom Academy had been attacked, their teachers killed...and no one had been surprised when Jason had stepped up and tried to lead them.
They had done so well...all their training, all their studies, they had paid off! They got so far, despite the fatigue they had sent Cerberus soldiers flying, not necessarily killing many of them, but kept them at a distance, their barriers shielding them as they had used their knowledge of their school to sneak closer and closer to the shuttle bay. Kahlee Sanders had also survived the initial assault, locked in, no way to go, she had still helped them via radio, guiding them, opening and closing doors, calling out a distress signal, trying to get them out...
It hadn't been enough though. Cerberus had too many men, none had come to help them...and then Cerberus had found the teacher...Michelle had heard the gunfire...the thud of a body...and the horrible silence following it.
Tears formed in the corner of her eyes, but Michelle blinked them away, a defiant part in her refusing to shame herself further in front of the inhuman Cerberus soldier before her.
Taking two deep breaths, Michelle once more looked around herself, desperately trying to ignore the blood on the floor as she focused on what lay beyond the windowed walls.
In front of her, past the soldier, there was a hallway running from left to right just outside her room, narrow and grey, black Cerberus logo's marking it at even distances. And beyond it...another glassed room, and the metal circle in that room much akin to her own. That room was empty though, the open latches for a prisoner's arms and legs still stained by blood, making Michelle shudder.
Trying not to breathe faster as panic gripped her, Michelle looked to the left and right of the opposite room, but none of them had anyone in it, though several were smeared by blood, some even so far as to splatter across the windows...
Some of it looked fresh.
God...
Michelle shuddered in revulsion and fear, the contents of her stomach nearly rushing up her throat before she in held it down in panic, not sure if the mask would allow her to throw up, or if the soldier before her would even bother to help her if she began to choke on it.
She looked to her right. Though it was hard to see with her head held fast she did spot more of the students...stuck in the same prison she was, naked and vulnerable. She didn't recognise most of them though, realising they were from the tech department, and as it was in schools, different classes preferred to keep to their own, even without the lingering stigma human biotics carried. None of them were conscious though...and Michelle found herself envying them.
Then she looked to her left.
Jason!
Michelle found her eyes widen in horror.
The man was unconscious, held fast in his own cell by his metal ring...and though naked, there was nothing desirable about the man at the moment. His chest was covered in clotted blood...
"Rodriguez, get out of here!"
"Not without you!"
"This isn't the time to-"
A bang, her friend momentarily hidden by an explosion of blood...and then he fell prone...
Squeezing her eyes shut, Michelle tried to shut out the memory.
Yet all she could see before her closed eyes was him lying on the floor, blood pooling around him at a frightening pace as she stared at him in shock, unable to move even as cold and brutal hands grabbed her, wrenched her hands behind her back and pushed her to her knees...
Oh, Jason...
Opening her eyes again, unable to hold back her tears, Michelle turned back to stare at the man, then to look past him...
She had expected more students, but found nothing but bloody rooms...
"Subject, Jason Prangley." Blinking, Michelle found her gaze drawn to the sound filling the stillness, only now noticing two men within the corridor. Both wore white lab-coats as well as masks and hats concealing all but their eyes, eyes glowing softly with an unnatural blue...
Michelle shuddered at the sight of them.
The shorter of the two was the one speaking, the man holding a datapad before him in his right hand. His speech was odd...human, yet cold and uncaring, a tone one would expect of a poorly programmed VI. "Impressive biotic potential, class B. Impressive leadership skills, class C. Reports indicate subject lead resistance at Grissom Academy."
A pause...and then the other man spoke, his voice deeper, but equally cold. "Severely damaged, assault team brought too little medical equipment, make a note of that for future operations."
They're talking about him as if he's a thing...
Michelle stared at them, unable to look away even as revulsion moved through her.
The shorter man moved his fingers over the datapad for a moment, then looked back up. "Note added. What of subject? Would make a class A Centurion."
They're going to make him into a what...! Michelle didn't know what a Centurion was, but she didn't like the thought of it, to have them change him, experiment on him. God...they're going to do the same to me! Terror gripped her heart, making her vision swim as her heart hammered in her chest. She couldn't look away though, nor stop listening.
"Waste of biotic potential, repairing the damage isn't cost-efficient for the product we'd get." The taller, obviously the leader, replied, eyes narrowing as he eyed the unconscious man.
"Very well." The short man made a note on his datapad, then cocked his head to the side as he turned his attention back to Jason. "Phantom project then? Would make a class B phantom, despite physical weakness."
The taller man turned his head, actually looking annoyed. "Repairing the subject, then genetic and hormonal treatment to make subject receptive to implants, the blueprints for subject Zero's neural pathways does not work with males as you know..." What the hell is subject Zero! What's a Phantom! Despite not understanding, Michelle kept staring at them. "...would raise the cost beyond the acceptable, even without considering the risk of failure."
A tiny sigh escaped the short man. "Suggestions, then? The subject damaged or killed several operatives, we have to make the investment of the troops worth it, or The Illusive Man will-"
"I'm aware of The Illusive Man's stance on failure." The taller man cut the other off with a snort. "And turning the subject into a Phantom would be a failure on our part, we must stay within the budget, even with the technology of the Collector base at our disposal, our resources are not limitless."
Stop calling him a subject! He's Jason! He's my friend! Michelle felt anger flood her, making her pull and tear at her bindings...but it was to no avail, and she soon slumped back. Leave him alone...
"Reaper project." The taller man suddenly said, making Michelle blink in confusion. Reaper...they work with the Reapers...!
The shorter man looked up at the taller in disapproval. "Are you sure? It seems wasteful."
"Biotics fed to the Reaper brain increases its calculating power more than non-biotics." The taller replied. A Reaper brain! What...what does he mean, 'fed'! "A class B biotic would increase the calculating power by point nine percent, calculating power Agent Lawson needs for his work." The tall man nodded to himself. "Yes, Reaper project for the subject, make a note."
"Very well." The short man tapped the datapad.
The ceiling above Jason opened...and the circle was pulled up into the darkness there before the ceiling once more closed.
No! Michelle jerked and cried out, her words muffled into silence by her mask as she stared at where Jason had disappeared. No! No! No! In her heart, she knew she'd never see him again, that he would die, maybe already was dead...
She felt despair fill her.
And then the men were before her own room. Their glowing eyes cold as they regarded her dispassionately. The short one looked down to his datapad, frowning. "Subject name, Michelle Rodriquez. Class D biotic. Class F leadership skills. Impressive theoretical skills. Biotic's weak, but nerves developed by high gymnastic scores, Class B."
"Too weak for significant aid in Reaper Project, waste of biotic potential with Nemesis project..." The taller one muttered, looking straight back at her as Michelle tried to glare at him with what was left of her defiance...only for her to look away in defeat, shoulders slumping as much as her bounds allowed. Just...get it over with. "Phantom project requires little biotic potential, but already high gymnastic scores will make it quicker to put it in the field."
"Phantom project it is." The shorter one agreed, tapping his datapad. "Next subject..."
Michelle didn't hear whatever he was about to say though as she in horror watched the ceiling above her open. Barely aware of the Cerberus soldier leaving, she watched as mechanical arms, like glittering tentacles, reached down from the darkness, reaching for her...
She couldn't pull away, and felt an unreal feeling fill her as a large container was sealed over her left hand. A synthetic voice calling out. "Removal of hand proceeding."
Wha-
Pain!
Her eyes rolling back, Michelle screamed into the mask as her hand became a focal of agony...only to nearly instantly abate, the synthetic voice as cold as she herself felt. "Nerves ninety-seven percent intact, attaching secondary biotic implant and artificial hand."
For a moment, all turned black.
Then Michelle opened her eyes once more, feeling...cold...
She flexed her left hand...and surprisingly felt fingers there, not to mention a strange tingling, making the tingle of the biotic implant in her neck hum in sync. The synthetic voice was calm. "Nerves at optimal integration, disposal unnecessary, proceeding with replacing of epidermis and indoctrination implantation."
Epi...dermis? Michelle's eyes widened in horror. Unable to do anything, she quaked in terror as more mechanical arms appeared, all ending in thin and serrated blades as they moved towards her bare skin...
But then another arm appeared right in front of her, filling her vision with two sharp spikes ending in a pair of blue-glowing orbs. The synthetic voice spoke, heedless of her fear. "Ocular-type indoctrination implants ready...inserting."
Michelle screamed.
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Target sighted.
The Phantom crouched atop the wall, the corner of her vision tinged a hazy blue. Had it always been there? She couldn't tell, all she knew was that she saw eleven humans down below, ten of them armoured, one in robes. She could hear their blood pulsing, their life...and she felt anger, a deep, booming command from within her making her muscles tense...eager to obey.
Kill, kill, kill...
Then something cold shot through her brain, silencing the yearning. It wouldn't last though, the command always came back, louder and louder, dark, yet so entrancing...trying to pull her away, to make her heed it...she wanted to.
Yet the coldness wouldn't be denied, it would command, it would tell her to do what the dark voice wanted, yet with no pleasure, with no passion, as if it came from a different source.
The Phantom couldn't question it.
Obey.
Drawing her sword, the Phantom leapt down, the screams of the men music to her ears, their shots unable to penetrate her barrier as her hand shot out, silencing the foremost with a single blast.
Then she was among them, leaping, spinning, her blade a flicker, always shadowed by blood.
And the darkness within her approved.
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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her endless toil.