Title: Unnatural Redux
Author: BlueLunacy7
Chapter Warnings: Mild violence, OCs'
Pairings: None at the moment but future Sam/Bee
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form.
Summary: 2007 Movie-verse AU, Unnatural revamped: The Cube gives life and there are some things that Sector 7 shouldn't meddle with.
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Chapter 1: Awakening
The road to disaster is ordered by the righteous, planned by the well-meaning, and paved with their good intentions. -Mercedes Lackey, Owl Flight
Stillness, silence….waiting in the cold darkness of the void…sleeping…
Movement, sound…Light, hot blinding light…waking…
Orbs, globes, bubbles, stars flowing into a river of light…
Another so close... mixing, blending….pouring into…
….Form shifting, changing, transforming….into soft, supple, pliable, flesh….
No, no, no, not right. It's not right!
It's not what I'm supposed to be!
Where are you?
I'm lost.
Please….
Find me.
Breathe…..breathe…breathe…Sucked in cold wet air that burned the lungs. He opened his eyes to harsh glaring light, filling his vision with nothing but white, his thoughts lethargic and sluggish as if his head was stuffed with cotton. Slowly, his eyes began to focus; he saw more that just the bright white light. There were blurry forms and movements; sounds that were muffled at first slowly became clearer.
"….subject….dead…."
"…changed, somehow….."
"….the cube…."
Pain danced along his muffled senses as he shivered, so cold from freezing metal against his back, his ankles and wrists bound with leather restraints to the table under him. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Above him was ceiling of dark shiny concrete and metal with thick cables running across it like some demented spider's web.
To his right was another table, this one was shrouded in a white sheet, drawn over what appeared to be a body.
Before he could wonder about it, a blond woman in a long white lab coat came into his line of sight, pressed the cold plastic disk of the stethoscope to his chest and listened. A curious look crossed her face as she moved plastic disk of the stethoscope to the other side of his chest and listened again. She moved it a third time before stating to dark haired man in the same long white lab coat with a clip broad next to her, "Subject 2501 appears to have no heartbeat."
It took a moment for his muddled mind to realize she was talking about him. No heartbeat? He was alive, how could he have no heartbeat? He tried to speak, to ask what was going on but no sound came out, only a breath of air. Why couldn't he speak?
The doctor, nurse, whatever she was, ignored him, taking long rubber tube, and binding his arm so tightly his hand tingled unpleasantly. She picked up a syringe from the row on a metal tray that the dark hair man had brought and put the needle to his skin. As she pushed, the skin gave but did not break under the needle's sharp point. She made a noise of annoyance and pushed harder.
The needle bent.
His eyes followed that crooked needle as it was set back with its fellows, stomach knotting in anxiety and his breath coming in rapid pants as panic began to take hold of him. Again he tried to speak, to say something, anything, but this time the only sound that emerged was a little whimper, like the tiny mew of a kitten that made his throat ache.
That was enough to get woman's attention. She stared down at him, her pale hazel eyes possessing a flat quality, a clinical detachment as if he was a mere a lab rat who had done something a little unusual but not unexpected. Yet there was a disquieting something behind that flatness, something that made shiver with something other the chill from the table.
She took the rubbed tube off his arm and picked up a scalpel from the trey, "Subject 2501's skin has strengthened, so a biopsy is required to obtain a sample."
Sample? Biopsy? No, no, no! He tried to swallow the rush dread growing inside him. It would be fine, she was going to give him some sort of anesthesia, she wasn't just going to cut into him, she couldn't…couldn't…
She made no move to apply any sort anesthesia. Panic ran through him as the blade touched his skin and he began to struggle against his bonds. The clinical detachment had faded from her eyes. Instead they were bright, shiny as a child's who was about to open the Christmas present they had been waiting for.
Gritting his teeth, he struggled harder against the bonds holding him down, wanting grabbed the scalpel that she held in her hand and slash it across her pale throat, blood spraying red and hot or slam it into her eye, feeling it pop like balloon, driving the metal farther straight into the brain. She was going to cut into him and take a piece.
A miasma of rage boiled up inside him, thick and hot like tar, coating every thought in haze of hatred as a deep growling voice thundered within him.
INSECTS.
Power prickled along his skin, he felt something of his change and suddenly he was free. He pushed himself off the table with enough force it tipped over and fell to ground with a harsh bang. He grabbed the woman and both of them tumbled to the floor in a painful heap, his hands around her throat. The voice growled, rumbling through him like a peal of thunder, all it would take was little squeeze to crush her –DISGUSTING- throat or a quick jerk to snap her neck-
No, another voice whispered through. Where the other was a thunderstorm intense and violent, this one was a soft heavy rain, sinking deep inside him washing away the rage.
You don't want this.
The woman eyes were swimming in fear, an expression of true terror coming face to face with a monster.
'No,' he whispered in his head, swallowing the hatred, pushing the howling rage back. He took his hands from around the woman's neck, his strength fading with the anger. 'No, I am not a monster.'
Something hard slammed into the side of his head suddenly with enough force that he was knocked off the woman. Something trickled down the side of his face. Gingerly, he touched his temple, his fingers came back wet but not red. Coating his fingertips was shimmering and blue. 'What?'
Before he could recover, people rushed him from all sides, from their attire. He tried to fight back, hitting and kicking, even going back to the childhood lesson of self defense, finding skin and biting down until his teeth met but he felt so weak. Grabbing him, his attackers pushed him chest down on the floor, pinning him there.
"Get clear!" A voice yelled as a humming noise echoed through out the room. The restraining hands vanished but before he could react to this freedom and get his feet a blast of energy slammed into him, sending waves of pure agony erupting across his senses, over whelming him. As his eyesight started to fade to black, there was an angry buzz of voices in the room. Snippets of conversation followed him as he fell into the darkness of oblivion.
"…need it alive…."
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Hannah Powers struggled to her feet, refusing help from one of her assistants. She was one of the best and the brightest, finally high enough in Sector 7's hierarchy to be invited to participate as a top researcher in one of their important experiments and what had happened? She got knocked on her ass like a first time trainee. Worse yet, her husband had to ride to rescue like she was some sort damsel in distress and might have destroyed the latest Subject.
"Damn it Alex, we need it alive." She rasped, putting her hand on his arm as he started charging the small EMP generator again.
"It just tried to kill you!" He growled, grabbing her bicep and giving her a small shake, his green eye blazing.
"It recovered quicker than I anticipated, it caught me off guard." She explained calmly as she could. Yelling at Alex wouldn't solve anything and would make her look even worse if front of her colleagues, "That won't happen again."
"Damn right it won't."
Knowing her husband wouldn't let her go until she reassured him, she gave her assistants their orders, "Sean, restrain the Subject and get it to the lab to monitor its brainwaves; we need to see if that EMP did too much damage and if we can salvage it, I'll join you shortly. Calvin, take the body to morgue and begin the autopsy, see if you can find out what went wrong this time.
"Yes, doctor."
"Yes ma'am. "
As they began their work, Hannah dragged her husband off to the side so she could speak with him semi-privately, "Alex, working with alien technology always has an element of danger. We both knew this when-"
"-we joined Sector Seven," He continue for her with a sigh, running a hand through his sandy blond hair, "yeah I know but damn Hannah, that thing's just as crazy as the rest of them."
"Maybe not, it did stop in the middle of the attack." She pointed out, touching her tender throat, "The others just kept attacking until they were either stop or destroyed…."
"After they killed someone," he retorted, "I don't want what happened to James to happen to you."
"You know this is important, not only to my career but to the world." She replied intensely, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "You've said it yourself: We need weapons if others of NBE-1's race come knocking on our door step. These experiments are the best chance we have. We have to succeed, no matter what."
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Author Notes:
So this is the new version of Unnatural.
Like I said, I've decided that rather then completely rewriting Unnatural from the ground up, I'm going to rewrite some parts of it and tweak the rest. I'm going to keep the original up as well.
You can also find my fics on Deviant Art. The link to my Deviant Art profile is on my fanfiction profile.
Thanks for reading and reviewing,
-BlueLunacy7
