When he first woke up here, he was in a large cage with dozens of other animals, most he didn't recognize, at least not from where he lives.
He stared, wondering how he ended up here, recalling how he was called to investigate an explosion at the D.E.I.
When he thought about it, it was strange as he had just beaten the mad scientist just before his owners woke up, and that was pretty much it for the day. The scientist would simply mope about the day, coming up with new plans later to try tomorrow, getting foiled by the O.W.C.A.'s top agent once more.
Now he was here, not able to recall how he got here, seeing dozens of animals huddled together, looking absolutely terrified.
He felt bad for them, wishing he could comfort them, but some lashed out with hisses and growls, instincts controlling them.
He sighed as he sat down; drawing his knees up, wondering what sort of diabolical plan is being made with him and the other animals here.
That was the last thing he thought before the room was engulfed in gas, knocking everything inside out.
After that, all he knew was excruciating pain.
Every time he woke up, he found himself lying on an operating table; different doctors hovered over his body.
The first time, they stripped him of his personal effects attached to him, feeling terrified as they injected him with syringes.
They were using him for some sort of experiment and the restraints were impossible to break. If he could break one limb free, then these guys would pay for what they were doing to him and for any other animal having to suffer.
But all that changed when he heard foreign chanting, realizing they were some sort of spells.
Before he could think or wonder what these people could be doing, he felt as if his entire body was on fire. He could feel his bones becoming different, unable to determine what it was, the pain overwhelming him, same with his skin, feet, everything.
Loud screams ripped out of his throat, a gag inserted not to quiet him, but prevent him from choking or biting his tongue. Afterwards they inserted some oxygen tubes to ensure that he kept breathing.
What were they doing to him?
Why were they doing this to him?
What purpose could they have torturing him?
These questions and thousands more ran through his head every time he woke up here, he was terrified beyond words.
He would be forced to endure grueling hours of pure agony, feeling bones snapping and reforming. Fur shedding painfully, sometimes taking chunks of skin by the burning and wet sensations. There were times he couldn't even feel his webbed feet, not sure if they might've fallen off or what.
One of the most painful experiences had to be when he was flipped onto his stomach and the most psychotic looking child came into view.
She was dressed in white, though did wear a surgeons coat, which was normal, if this could be considered normal that is.
Her long white hair was tied back into a pair of tight buns, leaving her electric green eyes exposed, paralyzing the poor animal with fear.
If it wasn't for the fact he knew that this was a child and not a dwarfed adult, he would've thought nothing of it.
But this is a child and…oh god, what is she doing with that surgical knife?
He barely focused on her, unable to completely follow before pain exploded in his lower region, his tail precise. She was literally; ruthlessly sawing his tail off right down to the base, leaving nothing behind; not even a stump remained.
He couldn't stop shrieking as he was butchered alive, things done to him he didn't think were possible, things he didn't think anyone should be capable of.
Not even horror movies he's seen were like this!
He was left alone for a while after that, allowed to heal from that, those were the orders that monstrous child gave.
How could such a small being be filled with such evil?
But what had to be more terrifying about this child, was that very fact, she is a child. He shuddered and cried, unable to take the image of his innocent owners becoming like this if given the chance.
No, they never would become like her, they were born innocent, it was obvious she never was innocent to begin with.
As much as he didn't want to cast such judgment, but this girl was pure evil, wanting her to die every time he saw her or even heard her voice.
He couldn't stop crying, even as his breathing became ragged as he lied on a cot in agony.
He wanted to sleep the pain away, but he was scared to do so, knowing the next time he wakes up, he'll be back on the table.
He didn't understand what they were doing to him, why they were doing this, but knew it wasn't for good reasons.
He stared at his bandaged arm, vision blurred between tears and lack of contacts, but mostly his tears.
He hugged himself as best he could, sobbing softly, trying to think of happy thoughts, praying that it was all a horrible dream.
He wanted to wake up in bed with his humans, know that he's safe, that they're safe; not caring if he blew his cover smothering them with hugs and kisses.
Hell, he didn't care if he woke up at his nemesis' place, having gotten captured and fell asleep out of boredom or been conked nicely on the head. He likely would be covering the man with hugs and kisses too, far to relieved to know that it was all simply a horrible nightmare.
Anything had to be…
A loud, painful crack occurred, snapping his eyes open, another scream, one as loud as what he let out when his tail had been hacked off, echoing the room.
This time however, his beak had shattered, a gaping hole in his face as he felt the tissue shifting and morphing.
It was pure agony, feeling as if he'll die from the pain, barely hearing the shouting, barely feeling injections pumped into him.
After that, he blacked out, later waking up, this time in his cell, his whole head hurting, trying to recall what happened.
When he did, without thinking, he lurched his head over the side of the cot, vomiting whatever had been forced into his stomach after the last procedure.
Eyes snapped open as he wondered why he isn't hurting in the broken orifice; he tentatively lifted a hand up, touching his face.
Patches were either covered in bandaging or…
"No…" he silently gasped, realization finally dawning on him of what these people were doing to him.
Yes, he's been losing fur, a lot of it, but he still had some rough, scabby patches around the head, but this time, it was extremely soft. But it wasn't just that, he felt his face more, finding features that were never there, having been covered by a beak.
Glancing nervously at his half bandaged arm, he found it was more human, albeit a little deformed.
He looked further at himself, a new wave of emotions crashing into him far worse than ever before.
Tears were soaking his face once more, rage filling his very being, and disgust tightened around his stomach.
They were turning him human!
He has no objections regarding the human species, having found them fascinating creatures compared to platypi. What he did object was that if he's human, he could never return to his family…
He thought briefly about the agency, what they might think of this if he ever got back, however he threw the thought away. Screw them, to an extent; they were the cause for sending him on this hellish mission in the first place.
All he wanted was things to go back to the way they were, not this hellhole he's trapped in; enduring pain at such levels he never knew existed.
Burying his face into his hands, he let out a scream, anguish consuming him as he started thrashing in bed.
Unable to really move, he was in a sense, throwing a tantrum, the kind he's seen his boys throw when they were very little.
He couldn't escape if he tried, his legs were too deformed right now, having not finished whatever sick experiment he's in. Even if they weren't, he had no tools to break out of his cell or any idea how to get out of here and back home.
Could he even risk going back home? They could follow him; threaten the boys, Candace, their parents, all in order to get him back. Or worse, kill them…
The thoughts alone made him scream louder, thrashing, kicking weakling, swinging his arms into the side of the cot or the wall.
He ignored the pain it caused; it was nothing after what he's been through.
In his frenzy, men came in, drugging him, putting him into a more docile state, having him continue sobbing in his sleep.
After that, whatever else was left in his humanization was completed, the pain more bearable, the biggest of changes having been completed.
When he could finally stand properly and walk correctly, he was given fresh clothes, almost like training clothes. He was told, no ordered to change before left alone in the small, claustrophobic feeling room.
He stared at himself, finding no scars, not even where his tail used to be, bringing a new wave of tears to his eyes.
He hugged the linen to his naked frame, shivering from the cold, reluctantly dressing himself clumsily.
He only succeeded after having watched the boys dress for so many years, they were all boys, and different species, at the time that is.
They had no worries of being uncomfortable with one another, especially with a pet present, probably not caring if he had been a girl because he wasn't human.
Of course, Ferb showed himself to be a tad bit shyer, matching rather well with his quiet nature, but not Phineas, not his naïve little angel.
He could recall a time when the boy went to wake his sister and she apparently was in the middle of changing and chased him out.
He didn't understand, his mom having to explain that with girls, it's better to knock before barging in as he had.
A door slammed open, leaving him to stare nervously, bringing his arms up, half in self-defense, the other out of instinctive fear as he hugged himself, trembling.
He felt like such a pup, child, however one would look it, but he couldn't help it!
What was done to him was completely inhumane. And now that they were done, who knows what they were going to do to him.
"Let's go," the gruff looking man snapped, grabbing the scared agent's arm, dragging him out of the room and down a few hallways.
He tried to memorize them, but couldn't, not because he couldn't focus, but more when he looked out the windows.
He realized he wasn't in Danville, the location appearing surreal, as if they weren't even on Earth anymore.
He was positive, wanting to ask, but couldn't figure out how to use his new vocal cords, knowing they were there and now human.
But all he was getting so far were chatters and small, strangled noises when he struggled with basic words used every day.
He wanted to beg to go home, willing not to say anything; he just wanted his family now, unable to stop the tears once more.
Finding themselves in a new room, completely different from what he had been growing accustomed too, much to his discomfort.
There, a single man in the room, looking far more sympathetic than the cruel monsters he's dealt with before in the operating, no that torture chamber.
"Hello, Perry, I'm glad to see you've made a full recovery. Please, take a seat and we will begin," the young man greeted softly as he pointed to their destination.
There was a table, a box with what looked like toys or something, a stack of papers, couple chairs.
It felt like he was in a mental institution, recalling some of his favorite soaps.
Please don't tell him that his whole life was an entire illusion, that he's actually some mental patient.
He didn't think he could take that, not after all he's gone through, all the memories he's formed, good and bad alike.
Hesitantly, mostly out of fear of getting thrown by the gruff giant, peeking nervously behind him to see him leave.
Taking a seat, shaking out of fear and still adjusting to his new body, he waited for the man now taking over claim the other seat.
"I know you're scared, if you're hoping to gain comfort that it'll get better…" the man sighed as he glanced away briefly. "For now, it doesn't matter. I'm sure you have thousands of questions to ask, but if you want to ask them, you need to learn how to use your new body properly. So why don't we get started then?"
Like that, he was made to go through childish trials between using utensils, toilet training, walking and running properly. But the one he had to have found most useful had to be speaking, finally learning how to work his new mouth.
What felt like an eternity, he was finally able to talk; having no stutters or slip ups on pronunciations, learning fast that he's got quite a silver tongue. He swore he saw the man blush a few times when he'd recite a few lines from his favorite soaps.
He merely picked those lines because he remembered them best and felt they would work with testing out his new vocal cords. It was only later that he realized that a few of those chosen lines had some innuendos in them.
Having learned so much, now going through another set of tests, this time a bit more advanced to test his reaction time.
He felt now was a time to start asking questions, praying it won't backfire on him, especially with his man he hesitated to call a friend.
"Why me?" he asked, a simple sounding question, but it was so much more, praying that this doctor he's had as a teacher would answer.
"You had a large spike with your reiatsu, your spirit energy if you will."
"I still don't get it…" he muttered softly, almost slipping back to his chatters.
"I'm afraid that you were picked to join a military group. But in your previous form, you would not have lasted long, enduring blasts and explosions from both sides."
"But you know everything about me…"
"Exactly, we knew all of your limitations, and what this militia does, you would not have lasted a single fight. You needed a far stronger body, given a human looking body, but at the same time, it isn't completely human."
"Isn't completely human?" the other unintentionally parroted, staring wide eyed at the other.
"You will find you will take hits that would normally be fatal, killing someone upon impact, though they will be absolutely painful. The muscles in your body are stronger, meaning you'll be able to deliver punches strong enough to shatter concrete, and if you harness control over your reiatsu, you'll be able to shatter stronger materials. It is the same for when it comes to speed as you run, your reflexes sharper than ever. If you hadn't noticed, even your sight had been corrected so you have no need for contacts. And again, all these senses and reactions could be enhanced far greater when you begin training your reiatsu properly…"
"I didn't ask for this though…"
"I know, most here never ask for this, usually taken away at night, never to see loved ones again. And the times they do, it is the last time."
"What do you mean?"
"You're lucky you'll never get to see them again," the doctor sighed softly, earning a chill from the other.
"What do you mean? What happened to my family?" Perry just about shouted, standing up, slamming his hands on the table.
He was about to answer before the door opened, revealing that same child, sending the once platypus into a frenzy.
This time however, she wasn't dressed to perform surgery, but in a white blouse and skirt, black shoes tapping lightly as she walked in.
Her white hair, instead of a bun hung in a loose ponytail over a shoulder, concealing her right eye, held together by a ribbon.
Now dressed in what appeared to be casual clothes, he felt sick, realizing she truly was a child, he hadn't been hallucinating in that room. She had to be at least five years old, yet the look in her visible eye said otherwise.
"Stay away from me!" he screamed with desperation.
Without thinking, he grabbed the chair, throwing it at the small girl, watching as she easily side stepped, almost teleporting by how fast she moved.
The furniture hit the floor, shattering, even leaving small cracks in the floor, leaving him to stare in shock of how much stronger he's become.
In his awe, he almost missed the psychotic child talking, though when he did, he found she wasn't talking to him directly.
"Tsk…tsk…Manäo-kun, I thought I told you, that you aren't to disclose such delicate information without my permission?" the child taunted as she walked further inside, hands tucked behind her back.
"He deserves to know," the man growled as he refused to look the child in the eye, gritting his teeth. "He deserves to know what you did you sick monster!" he shouted before a small gasp was heard, a knife having been shot straight between the eyes.
"Oh dear, you should be lucky that isn't fatal. But when I'm done with you, you'll wish it was," the child taunted as she snapped her fingers.
Strange, monstrous creatures floated into the room, gathering the twitching doctor, passing the frozen agent.
He couldn't believe what he saw; literally he couldn't see when she pulled that knife out or when it was thrown.
It happened so fast, and seeing how calm she acted, he shook harder, realizing he couldn't beat her if he tried.
It didn't matter if he was a platypus or always had been human, or any creature for that matter.
This child, this thing was on a whole other level, one he didn't even know existed until now.
Worse, there could be, no, he was positive that were others just like her in this horrendous place. He was positive that they were all just as deadly as, maybe deadlier than her, capable of doing far worse to him than what she's done.
He felt lightheaded, seeing her grin evilly, unsure why as his vision began darkening, realizing in his own sheer terror, he was fainting.
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