Hey again, next chapter. Welcome to the research section of the Prison.

Chapter 1

Ding! Ding! First floor: Welcome to Hell

Jak's PoV

I don't know what happened. One minute I was staring into some goggled guys mask, the next I woke up bein dragged through this place. I try to move, but the grip on my Arms doesn't loosen. I don't know what they want. No-one has said anything to me other than shut up.

I don't like this place. Its dark, it has this evil smell, and most of all. I can sense suffering. It pounded out of the walls, sending my instincts blaring to get out.

I got dragged the whole way down a long corridor, then into a lift. I when down for a while, then the lift shuddered to a stop with a deceitfully cheery Ding!

"You have now reached Level four. Please note that access on this level is restricted to code Delta-Blue. Unauthorised access inside this facility will result in immediate expulsion from the guard and an automatic death sentence."

Death sentence!

I got dragged into a clinically clean room. Small, 5 by 5 feet. With two doors. The lift one, and a solid steel one. It opened with a quiet hiss, and I got shoved through it. I was caught by more arms, stripped and tossed into a freezing cold shower, scrubbed clean by invading hands which ignored my fighting and set about cleaning me with single-minded determination.

Once I was clean enough for their 'standards', I was shoved through another door, and grabbed yet again. By this point I was very annoyed and tried to shove the hands off me. Hard.

Then.. Pain. It blossomed in my gut and floored me in one wheezing fall. I was picked up again, they ignored my pain, and dressed me in a simple tunic and trousers. Leaving my feet cold against the metal floor. I was shivering by the time they handed me to the other set of guards. Who marched me into a long wide corridor. Which felt slightly better than the cramped series of rooms.

That is, until I heard it. The sounds of hundreds of inmates. All of them groaning or muttering. Pod-like cells lined the walls on either side. Three up, and 20 along. There were so many. The pods had solid metal doors, with a glass circular window. At the end of the hall was a single re-enforced Precursor-metal door. That door made me scared. They dragged me along the corridor and tossed me into one of the cells, before slamming the doors shut on me.

I immediately started pounding on the door for them to let me out. But after ten minutes with no response.. I gave up and looked at the room. The walls were padded, everything was white. There was a toilet and sink, a harsh blue light from the ceiling and a thin looking bed, mounted on the wall.

I sat on that bed for a while, before hugging myself and falling asleep.

When I came to, it was to the sound of someone slipping something through the hatch on the door. It was a warm, watery looking porridge. But being hungry, I wolfed it down.

With nothing else to do, I was bored for the next hour, before I heard something that made my eyes widen and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

A scream of pure agony echoed into the room. Sounding strangely muffle and distorted. But it was there. He hoped he never found out what was making the person behind that voice scream so much.

Unfortunately, Fate had it in for him, as he would figure out in later years.

Three hours later, and countless victims falling silent, the last one stopped.

The screaming stopped, and scant five minutes later, a clank indicated the release of his door-lock. Four guards in armour, Yellow instead of red, stomped in. Two grabbed him and held him, a punch in the gut for his resistance and they dragged his wheezing body out of the cell, the other two flanking them.

They dragged him down the entire corridor and through the large door. Into a small room with three doors leading off it. Each door had a plaque on it. He read them as he was dragged through one.

Experimental Bio-Mechanical-Enhancement.

Experimental Weaponry.

And the one he was being dragged through.

Dark-Warrior Project. He wondered why they would need a hall-full of prisoners for experimental research. Then, it dawned on him, in a more innocent fashion, that they were experimenting on them! And sub-sequently HIM!

He was dragged into another room. This on a large circular chamber. The outskirts of which, held around twenty cells. 19 of them were filled with sick looking men. To the side of the door, on the walk-way that ran the perimeter of the room, was a dead body. The man was bleeding from numerous wounds. But that wasn't the worst part. Oh no. It was what was with the blood that turned Jak's blood cold.

Dark-Eco.

They were putting Dark-Eco in people. More than you could safely handle even with other types by the looks of it. He had to have at least four E-Units crawling outta him for Precursors sake! His blood turned to ice, and fear jolted through him like a shockwave. He struggled violently, his surprising strength stunning on of the guards as he made a run for it, to fall to the ground in pain as an electric arc rendered his nerves useless.

And as he lay on the floor recovering from the after-shocks he heard the voice which would plague his nightmares for years. A soft musical voice. Filled with menace and the promise of pain. An evil voice. And through that voice he knew he would hate the owner. He was bodily lifted, and carried along a short walkway to the circular platform in the middle of the chamber.

He was flung onto a metal table, and was securely fastened onto it with metal shackles. While the guards exited the room, the voice continued it's slow drawling chuckle. Soft sharp steps sounded, as the person rounded to the back of me where I couldn't see.

Then the man leaned over the table and eyed me like a piece of meat. He stared into my eyes with silent curiosity, a soft smile on his strangely graceful lips. He couldn't be older than nineteen.

Glowing Amber eyes set into graceful features.

I instantly feared him.

"Well… it appears that I have someone… worthy of some attention for once. Such a pretty, pretty boy."

His voice was soft, melodious, belaying the instant gut feeling I got that he was not what he seemed. I didn't know what he meant, but the tone in his voice scared me. His hand reached up from where it had been dangling gently at his side. I noticed the lean muscles coiled tightly against the material of his clothing and realised that his soft looks belied a pure strength I couldn't match.

His fingers, brushed almost delicately, oh so delicately across my face, moving a lock of hair from my face.

"Such… lovely eyes. Tell me pretty-boy… what is your name? Don't be shy, I don't bite."

He paused, then grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the harsh light.

"Much."

His voice was husky, yet still soft. I opened my mouth and tried to tell him that I couldn't speak. Willed him to understand, because I got the feeling that I really didn't want to make this man angry.

He looked disappointed when I wouldn't speak... 'hurt', almost... then he seemed to catch the hint.

"Ahh... a mute is it?"

I nodded empathically

"Well.. we'll have to 'fix' that then. Won't we? Pretty-boy?"

I looked at him in confusion, his eyes held.. a ..'glint'. A strange dangerous quality that had not been there before. He walked sharply to the console in front of the table, arms loosely at sides. He flicked a few switches and levers, and a heavy clacking hiss sounded. A large metal construct lowered from the shadowy depths of the ceiling. It stopped just over me. A mass of wires, tubes and cylinders. It extended, with each clack and click and hiss, it cam closer and closer to me.

A little curiosity tinged my fear as a long featureless cylinder came to a stop before me. I stared at it clueless, until with a hiss, it snapped open. My eyes widened in fear, and I began to struggle against my bonds, crying uncontrollable.

Three long metallic arms extended, Each tipped by a razor sharp needle, connected to the tubes high in the machine.

Then that man, that evil vindictive sadist man said a few words I'd grow to hate.

"Initiated Dark-Eco Injection Cycle. 4 E-Units. Carotid, Wrist, Thigh."

The needles moved smoothly to each of the directed places, and stopped, just as I un-tensed to see why they hadn't done anything, they leapt.

They didn't stab me. Not deep enough to cause injury, but they knew precisely how hard to punch and where to go. I was pinned to the table, for fear of ripping my throat apart.

Then I heard an utterly sickening sound. A slow slurping gurgle. I looked up, to see a sluggish black substance flowing down the tubes. I cried harder.

Those cries developed into full blown screams as a sensation of absolute agony swept over my body. My veins were on fire, my mind was ripped asunder, and still the machine continued to pump the vile caustic substance into me. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. But when the machine finally stopped and the needles pulled out, I didn't know where the HELL I was or what was happening, save for fear. And a growing..

I'm not exactly sure how to describe it. But a hate, an anger so deep it couldn't be mine. Because I didn't hate anyone that badly. Not even Gol. Lots of people in Sandover thought Gol was an evil sociopath. But really it was his wives death that pushed him over the edge. I could remember sitting on the strangely coloured mans knee, once upon a time. Giggling in amusement as he made sparks of Dark Eco crackle over his hands to entertain me. As he lifted me into the air with him, and took me floating around, me and Dax.

Then one day.. he changed. He was constantly angry and hateful. He finally left in a few months to pursue Dark Eco for real. Then the whole blasted Silo mess happened.

But as I thought about that, I caught sight of the man at the console. A little smile on his lips. He had enjoyed it!

He walked over to me.

"Well, well, well… looks like you can channel well Pretty-Boy. Good. Because it means that I'll have lots of time to 'play' with you. Wouldn't you like that Pretty-boy? Hmm?"

I glared at him with a passion I'd never felt I opened my mouth to scream at him. But I couldn't. Because the second I opened my mouth, his was on mine. I froze, not knowing how to react. His tongue swept into my mouth, seeking mine, twisting my head up to meet his painfully.

When he drew back, his warm breath landed on my neck, making me shudder. I stared up at those eyes in fear as his low melodious voice whispered sweet lies in my ear.

"Oh.. I am going to enjoy you.."

With that, he clicked his fingers. The clamps on my arms released, and before I could think about escaping he picked me up, and crushed me against his chest, till I could hardly breathe. He carried me, with indescribable strength, to the last cell in the circle. And tossed me in.

"Yes. You will be quite some fun. Number 11."

With that he left, slamming the door behind him. I went to the bunk there, climbed on it. And rolled up into a pathetic quivering ball. And cried myself to sleep.

I could still taste him. And it made me sick.

The next three months, passed in much the same way. I'd get three meals a day. Pumped full of Dark Eco, The amount increasing every day, and that twisted man who I soon learned was called Erol, caused me pain then pleasure then pain. He twisted everything that could be taken as nice, and destroyed it. He whispered sweet nothings, and backed it up with a slap, a punch, a bite. When you were least suspecting it. I fear him more than anything else I know.

But at the same time, I felt my hate for him growing. My innocence was dying fast and flying faster with each passing day. By a month I was hoping against hope that Dax would come soon and save me. That's all I ever clung too. Daxter. The thought of him made me feel better. I think it's what truly stopped me going completely insane.

U..Until that day. On the second week of month 5..Erol..followed me. He came into the cell with me, the door behind him ajar. His soft voice spouting sweet sugar-laced lies.

" Go on Darling, escape. Get past me and leave this horrible place, like you so clearly want. No-one else can do it but you, or do you seriously think that anyone can save you? I gather from your expression that there is 'someone'. I…wonder who? I wonder why they haven't tried to find you yet? Or do you think that perhaps they just left you to die. Perhaps.. they didn't really care?"

I tried to block it out. I really did. His word's weakened my resolve. they… they nearly crushed my hope, it was still there… just burning less brightly. With a growl I shot forward, trying to get passed him.

'WHAM'

Next thing I knew, I was slumped on the floor against the wall. He stepped over, reached down and picked me up by the scruff of my tunic, holding me against the wall. He punched me again in the stomach. Hard. It hurt so much.

Then.. his hand slid to my waist, held my hip, and the other lifted my face, tears dripping down it to look at him. And he leaned forward and kissed me.

Again. And again. And again. He took whatever he wanted from me. Tracing the inside of my mouth, searching for something. And my resistance...died. I rebelled against the idea. But I was powerless to fight back. My resolve weakened. And by the 6th time he did it, I didn't try to escape. Just pleaded with my eyes for him not to kiss me again.

I hated it. I.. could never look him in the eyes after that. My pride was shattered. He hurt me, and hurt me, and hurt me, then.. he kissed me. Delicately. Gently. Carefully. Wiping away my tears, and muttering sweet nothings as he nibble my ears.

I hated the gasps and groans he elicited from me. Hated every ounce of weakness he forced me to show.

He broke me completely. With nothing but a kiss. He made me feel pleasure when I knew there should be only pain and disgust.

He...Broke...Me.

It's been months since I last saw Jak. This… place. It's so different from Sandover it's like entering another dimension.

For a start, it's always cold. Biting tearing cold. I'd be dead if it weren't for the grates that filter heat from the heater exhausts.

I feel more like an animal than I ever did before. Even if I am an Ottsel. Before it was just my shape. I still ate like normal, walked around and talked like normal. Now it's different.

I prowl about unseen, stealing and taking scraps from refuse whenever I get hungry. People continuously mistake me for a pet. I've managed to make some clothes out of scraps of material. A blue vest. A patchwork of different fabrics.

I'm glad those lessons on sewing my mother forced on me actually came to some use. A pair of gloves for my hands and my goggles completes the get up.

I prowl aroun with a blade concealed in a holster on m'arm. Not that such a small thing would help me much against a normal sized Elf.

I'm makin a small amount of money, clearing out rodent problems for people. Rat's, mice, small mammals. The occasional small Metalheads. I'm quite proud'a my job. It's somethin at least, right?

I've made myself a belt of leather, out of a much bigger one. Cut it down to size, and wear it round my waist. I meld the Skull-gems I get into it. I've got 8 so far. Small ones, about the size of a marble. But somehow I think I started a trend.

There's this Bar I sometimes hang around. And I've noticed some Waste-Landers giving me odd looks. In the last few weeks I've seen a few of them sporting belt's similar to mine.

Difference being, that they're made of Metal-Hide. And they have proper sized gems.

Still, I know I had the original idea. Heh, makes me proud.

I'm still looking for him. Even if my conscience tells me I'm not doing enough, I'm still looking. Keeping my ears open. I'm beginning to lose hope. I hate myself.

I tell myself that I was too week to stop them. That I couldn't have done anything. Doesn't stop me thinking I still should have.