Hurray for summer! No more filthy, stinky school with the evil
teachers in it. Man, 7th grade sucked monkey balls. I could of skipped it
all, except for science. Oh well, time to slap on your bathing suits and
hop into your pool. Or, if your like me, you'll sit on a your butt all day
staring at the computer/TV screen. It's fun to be lazy, no?
Anyway, I didn't update this for a while and I apologize. I've been busy doing youth group stuff...and just being plain lazy too. Yeeep. Okee. Let's get the show on the road.
Disclaimer: Yoshi eats berries. Mario eats pasta. Toad is a homo.
Shocks and Spikes
At the Base
Gir danced happily about while wearing headphones with 'The Way You Like It' blaring loudly. There were only about 16 more hours to wait for the location of the backpod and his master.
"TURN THAT HORRIBLE THING DOWN!" yelled the computer for the 50th time.
"What?!" yelled Gir, not hearing.
"GGGIIIRRGGGG...MOMAFOZNOAK!" screeched the computer as it crashed. Gir continued dancing and probably would've all day if the security alarm hadn't started flashing red. He took the headphones off and looked at the security camera screen. There was a little girl wearing a green sash and matching hat standing at the front door. She was carrying many boxes in a wagon and clipboard in her hand. Gir threw his dog disguise on and rushed up to greet her.
"HI!" chirped Gir as he burst open the door. The little girl took a step back, shaking nervously.
"Uh..ahem..yes, um, I'm selling cookies to help my Doom Scout troop and..ahem...would you care to, um, buy some?" the little girl stuttered, pointing at the box of Pepto Bismo flavored cookies. Gir blinked slowly, and tilted his head to the side. He started giggling.
"You speak the funky language there," he said, smiling. The little girl sobbed. It was her first week on the Doom Scout troop and she was already failing. She didn't know what to do. She suddenly smiled, remembering what her troop leader had taught them to do in these kind of situations.
"ALL RIGHT, YOU GREEN LITTLE MONGREL!" screamed the little girl, pulling out a rifle. "YOU SHALL BUY THESE COOKIES, OR I SHALL MAKE YOU BUY THEM!"
Gir fluttered his eyelids. He hadn't been paying attention. He looked down the rifle's barrel. "Oooh! A trumpet!" he screamed in delight, tossing his head back. He put his lips over the barrel and started blowing. The girl stared in confusion for a few moments, then became angry and pulled the trigger.
CORNK!
The bullet hit Gir in the back of his mouth and bounced back on to his tongue. Since he was made of such strong metal, no damage was done. He swallowed the bullet, thinking it was rock candy. The girl ran off screaming. She left the wagon of cookies with Gir. Gir looked down at them and exploded with happiness.
At The Society
Dib sat in the Lounge Room, happily sipping on a soda. He was wearing a crisp, new lab coat and periwinkle goggles. He'd been promoted, and he was now known as Agent Mega Mothman(Agent M3), but most people knew him as 'sir'. He smiled, happy at how everything had worked out for him. Even he couldn't believe his good fortune at times. He smiled as he remembered the awards ceremony where he was awarded 'Agent of the Year.' He didn't care that only The Society knew about it - the public would find out soon enough.
Dib put his feet up on the table, bending the computer chair back with a creak. He felt good. Real good. He guzzled what was left of his soda and threw it at the waste basket. And slouched in his chair and relaxed. He almost fell asleep, but the door slammed open as Sierra rushed in with the results from the experiment. Dib jumped, surprised. He looked over at Sierra in anger.
"WHAT?!" Dib demanded.
Sierra stepped back, a little hurt by Dib's actions. "Um, sorry to bother you sir, but the results are in."
"And?"
Sierra blinked. "Oh, right. Um.." She flipped through the papers. "Oh, here we are." She cleared her throat. "Well, this paper compares the subject to an average, full-grown man. It shows the pain factor for both the subject and the man. The subject handled more pain than the man before it fainted."
"And this means what to me?" Dib said, tapping his finger on the table, obviously annoyed.
"It means that the subject has more endurance and can handle harsher experiments, you dolt," Sierra said, increasingly angry. Dib was still a child and children shouldn't speak rudely to respected adults.
"And where is the subject now?"
"It's back in the 'Experiment' room, getting cleaned up for tomorrow."
"Is it conscious?"
"It wasn't when I was down there, but I don't know now."
Dib put his hands together and brought them up to his face, thinking. Sierra stood motionless, watching his face. Dib sighed and shrugged.
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot, sir," Sierra said, suddenly remembering something. She flipped through her papers. "Here...ahem. Okay, after some basic testing, sir, the subject's vital signs seem to be dropping or are very low. Its temperature is almost constantly 102 degrees."
"Hmmm....well, we'll fit in any experiments we can, and we'll try to bring its health up. If it dies, we'll just go straight to the autopsy. Now, if you'd please leave, I've got things to take care of," Dib said, looking over at the pinball machine.
Zim laid flat on his stomach on the familiar table of the Experiment room. He was still unconscious, but was still having nightmares about what he'd just been through. Hulk and Chuck were cleaning his wounds, but Chuck wasn't being very careful about it and often caused the cuts to crack or bleed.
"You know, it's a good thing these little cuts are so small, cause we'd have to give this stupid thing some more blood if they were huge gashes," Chuck said, putting pressure on a slit on Zim's shoulder. Chuck was a little high-strung, cause he was forced to work overtime just to clean up the specimen. He wasn't getting paid any extra for it either. He was gonna have to have a little chat with the shift captain about his.
Hulk gently pulled some dead skin out of a cut. He was used to working overtime without pay, and didn't really mind it. He was interested about the experiment anyway, so he was actually happy to stay. He glanced up at Chuck and shook his head.
"You don't dig the tweezers into it, you'll just end up making it worse," he said. Chuck rolled his eyes and mumbled something. Hulk shook his head some more, then continued his work.
Zim coughed hard as he started to regain consciousness, jerking his head to the side. The two scientists backed away at the sudden movement. Zim opened one of his eyes weakly and looked around. He couldn't see anything, his vision blurred from being under so long. He was about to rub at his eyes when the pain suddenly came back. It was overwhelming, making his muscles twitch and clogging his throat. He gasped and fainted again.
"Pfft..figures. Why don't you be useful for once, Hulk, and get the painkillers?" Chuck said, pointing at the IV. Hulk sneered and rolled the IV over to Zim. He gently pulled up his left wrist and pricked the needle into him. Chuck was watching and curled his lip up in disgust.
"What are you, a nurse? We don't get paid for caring you know, we just get paid to make sure it isn't dead. And even if it is, we can just say it was sick or something. In fact, we're not getting paid at all right now, so who cares?" Chuck said. "Anyway, wake it up again, it's easier to handle it then - and it's also a lot more fun." Chuck grinned as he said this, an evil glint in his eyes. Dib had given permission to all the scientists to do whatever they thought was necessary to break the subject's spirit, but it had to be awake.
Hulk grunted in disgust, but started to shake Zim to wake him up. No response. He shook harder. Chuck groaned impatiently. "Pour water on it, or something!" Hulk walked over to the fridge and got the pitcher of water. He gave it to Chuck.
"You do it. You're the torturous one."
Chuck sneered. He walked over to Zim's head and raised the pitcher up high. He smirked evilly and poured the water down on the specimen.
Zim woke up immediately. He shot up to a sitting position. Chuck backed away. Zim sat for a moment, then started shrieking as his skin began smoking. He fell off the table with a thud. To his surprise, he hardly felt the impact. He also didn't feel much burning from the water, considering the amount that was poured on him.
Hulk walked over to Zim and picked him up. Zim didn't struggle, for he was too confused about why he didn't feel much pain any more. Hulk laid him down on the table, face up this time. Chuck was staring at Zim, wide eyed.
"Did you see that? He was, like, on fire or something! Just because I poured water on him!" he yelled, pointing at the pitcher.
"Make sure you write it down. It may be valuable," said Hulk, reaching for his tweezers again.
Zim just laid there, trying to understand. 'I should be in pain right now,' he thought, deeply puzzled. All he felt was the dryness of his mouth and the sweat rolling down his face. He was a little hungry, but it wasn't a painful starvation feeling yet. Or if it was, he didn't feel it. He also felt a thick object protruding out of his wrist. He shifted around so he could see it. 'Pffft...just some type of drug,' he thought, half disappointed. He sat up and looked around. To the right was a big, chunky man he'd never seen before. To the left was the man who'd hit him before. Zim cringed as he remembered.
"Aww, look, he remembers me," Chuck said, seeing Zim eyeing him. Hulk raised an eyebrow. Chuck grinned and came closer to Zim, who inched away. Zim didn't want to get hit again, even if he wouldn't feel the pain right then and there. He'd feel it later.
"What's the matter, pip-squeak?" said Chuck, still coming closer. "Don't ya like your Uncle Chuck?" Zim spun around and went to jump off the table, but Chuck grabbed his antenna and pulled him up to eye level. Zim grabbed at Chuck's wrist, not wanting to let his antenna be pulled out. Once he got a good hold, he started kicking at Chuck, aiming for his chest. Chuck, annoyed, grabbed Zim's neck with his free hand.
"Put him down!" yelled Hulk, enraged. He wouldn't stand for such inhumane treatment, even if it was a test subject.
"Fine," Chuck said with a smirk. He raised Zim up high, and with great force, slammed him down on the table. Zim went in to a coughing fit, and Chuck watched with satisfaction. Hulk's cheek twitched. How he wanted to smack Chuck.
'Oh, please let them leave me alone, please let them go away,' Zim thought, mad at himself for being so frightened. But he couldn't help it - Chuck was cruel and unpredictable.
Hulk sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess we should get back to work then," he said, pulling the tweezers out again. Chuck nodded. Zim arched his antenna up quizzically. Hulk bent over Zim, aiming for the big wound on his chest. Zim saw the tweezers and went into a panic, thinking it was a dissection.
"NO!" he yelled pulling back and almost falling off the table again. "STAY AWAY FROM ME, OR...or...DOOM!"
Chuck started laughing. "Doom! DOOM!" he said mockingly.
Hulk raised an eyebrow. "Doom?" he said, rubbing at his chin.
Zim stared blankly at the two scientists for a moment and became angry. He couldn't stand being laughed at. He glared at Chuck, gritting his teeth. He let his anger and hatred take over him, and he jumped off the table towards Chuck. Chuck, still laughing, was completely taken by surprise when the little alien landed on his chest. Zim started punching at him, not really aiming anywhere.
"Filthy little monkey pig, you dare mock me?!" he yelled in his fury. Hulk rushed over and grabbed Zim's foot, pulling him upside down into the air. He was holding a syringe. Zim saw this and started kicking to get free.
"Chuck write this down," Hulk said, keeping a good hold on Zim's foot. "11:47 PM, subject becomes too aggressive to handle consciously." He brought down the syringe. "Sorry little bugger," he said sadly.
------------------------------------
The next day
------------------------------------
Experiment: Shocks And Spikes(S&S)
Test Subject: Subject A
How it Works: Subject is latched down to a small, metal table. The subject is latched at the wrists, ankles, neck, and waist. Above the subject is a block of spikes connected to a chain link. If the subject struggles, it will get a shock from the table and the spikes will be lowered. How far the spikes come down and how bad the shock is determined by how hard the subject is struggling. Experiment ends if subject faints, understands what is going on, or if the spikes come too close.
Reason for Experiment: Tests to see if the subject can figure out problems under pressure. Also tests how well subject can handle electrical charges.
Zim was restrained on a rolling cart and was being pushed down the halls of The Society. His wounds from the last experiment were scabbed over and didn't hurt as badly as before. He squinted as the lights on the ceiling went by, each light brighter than the next, or so it seemed to him. He couldn't see who was pushing him, but it was probably better that way.
Thoughts raced around in his head, worries and hopes. One thought of escape crossed his mind and almost made him laugh in triumph. But when they approached their destination, a door with 'Testing In Progress' printed on it in bold, red letters, Zim was filled with nothing but dread. He thought of ways to try and stall his fate, but it was impossible, for his mind was blank from anxiety.
They stopped in front of the door. The scientist who had been pushing him came around and gave him an evil glare, then went into the room. Zim laid on the table, half trembling, wondering what was to happen to him, if he'd survive, and what other horrors awaited him if he did. A thought of suicide came across his mind, but he hurriedly shook it away. He would never, ever resort to that, no matter how bad it was.
A few minutes passed, and two strong looking scientists came out of the room. They pushed Zim and the cart into the room. It was poorly lit and looked old and unused. Zim strained his neck up to see. In the middle of the room was a small metal table with wires coming out at the sides. To the left and right were computers where the wires connected into. But the thing that held Zim's attention was the spikes hanging above the table, glistening in the dim light of the room.
The cart came to a stop near the table. The two strong scientists started to unlatch Zim from the cart. Zim, dumbstruck from the sight of the dagger like spikes, didn't fight against the scientist when he picked him up. The man laid him flat on the table while the other started latching Zim down.
'Oh no, no, no, no, no...' Zim thought over and over again, still staring at the spikes. 'This is not happening...it can't be.' He didn't even notice when the final latch was done and the two scientists grabbed the cart and started to leave.
"That was pretty easy," said the one, taller scientist. He'd been told that the test subject was very aggressive, and was surprised that they'd had no problems restraining it. The other scientist nodded. They left the room with a slam of the door.
Zim jumped at the noise. The slamming door brought him back to his senses. 'I gotta get out of here,' he thought. He inspected the latches. They looked weaker than the ones in the 'Experiment' room. Zim half smiled. Perhaps this was his key to freedom. He laid quiet for a few moments, listening for any other scientists and watching the spikes. After he was sure he was safe, he started pulling to get loose.
A strong jolt of electricity went through Zim's body, taking him completely off guard and making him yelp. His antenna shot straight up and sizzled. Zim heard a loud clanking noise, like old chains being forced to work hard. Zim looked up and saw the spikes coming down. His eyes bulged. He struggled harder to get loose. Another jolt went through him, more intense this time, making his eyes water. The spikes came down faster.
'This isn't science!' he thought, pulse pumping hard and fast, 'It's torture!' He gave one final pull to get loose, giving it all the strength he had. The shock of electricity made him cough, jerking his body, burning his skin. He looked up at the spikes coming down even faster than before. He laid limp, sunk in body and spirit. He'd given up.
After a few moments, the spikes stopped moving. Zim saw this and tilted his head in confusion. 'Why don't they finish me off?' he wondered. Forgetting that his hand was restrained down, he tried lifting it up to scratch his head. He got a tiny shock and the spikes dropped a few centimeters. Zim blinked a few times, trying to think. He lifted his hand up again. Another tiny shock and a few more centimeters.
Suddenly understanding everything, Zim sighed in deep relief. He looked up at the spikes. If he wasn't restrained, he could reach up and touch it. He started laughing insanely, tired and delirious, but so relieved that he was numb from all pain. The lights flashed on and the spikes climbed back up to their original height. The two strong scientists from before reentered, bringing back the cart and carrying yet another syringe.
"HAH HAH HAH WHOOoooo boy..," Zim chuckled as he drifted off to sleep.
Well, at least Zim's experiment ended on a happy note. Also in this chapter shows my deep hatred of the Girl Scout cookies. Again, sorry for the delay peoples, I'll try and speed up the next chapter.
Fact: This took 2 and a half days, 4 sodas, a pop-tart, and a jug of Pepto Bismo to write!
-Crystal
Anyway, I didn't update this for a while and I apologize. I've been busy doing youth group stuff...and just being plain lazy too. Yeeep. Okee. Let's get the show on the road.
Disclaimer: Yoshi eats berries. Mario eats pasta. Toad is a homo.
Shocks and Spikes
At the Base
Gir danced happily about while wearing headphones with 'The Way You Like It' blaring loudly. There were only about 16 more hours to wait for the location of the backpod and his master.
"TURN THAT HORRIBLE THING DOWN!" yelled the computer for the 50th time.
"What?!" yelled Gir, not hearing.
"GGGIIIRRGGGG...MOMAFOZNOAK!" screeched the computer as it crashed. Gir continued dancing and probably would've all day if the security alarm hadn't started flashing red. He took the headphones off and looked at the security camera screen. There was a little girl wearing a green sash and matching hat standing at the front door. She was carrying many boxes in a wagon and clipboard in her hand. Gir threw his dog disguise on and rushed up to greet her.
"HI!" chirped Gir as he burst open the door. The little girl took a step back, shaking nervously.
"Uh..ahem..yes, um, I'm selling cookies to help my Doom Scout troop and..ahem...would you care to, um, buy some?" the little girl stuttered, pointing at the box of Pepto Bismo flavored cookies. Gir blinked slowly, and tilted his head to the side. He started giggling.
"You speak the funky language there," he said, smiling. The little girl sobbed. It was her first week on the Doom Scout troop and she was already failing. She didn't know what to do. She suddenly smiled, remembering what her troop leader had taught them to do in these kind of situations.
"ALL RIGHT, YOU GREEN LITTLE MONGREL!" screamed the little girl, pulling out a rifle. "YOU SHALL BUY THESE COOKIES, OR I SHALL MAKE YOU BUY THEM!"
Gir fluttered his eyelids. He hadn't been paying attention. He looked down the rifle's barrel. "Oooh! A trumpet!" he screamed in delight, tossing his head back. He put his lips over the barrel and started blowing. The girl stared in confusion for a few moments, then became angry and pulled the trigger.
CORNK!
The bullet hit Gir in the back of his mouth and bounced back on to his tongue. Since he was made of such strong metal, no damage was done. He swallowed the bullet, thinking it was rock candy. The girl ran off screaming. She left the wagon of cookies with Gir. Gir looked down at them and exploded with happiness.
At The Society
Dib sat in the Lounge Room, happily sipping on a soda. He was wearing a crisp, new lab coat and periwinkle goggles. He'd been promoted, and he was now known as Agent Mega Mothman(Agent M3), but most people knew him as 'sir'. He smiled, happy at how everything had worked out for him. Even he couldn't believe his good fortune at times. He smiled as he remembered the awards ceremony where he was awarded 'Agent of the Year.' He didn't care that only The Society knew about it - the public would find out soon enough.
Dib put his feet up on the table, bending the computer chair back with a creak. He felt good. Real good. He guzzled what was left of his soda and threw it at the waste basket. And slouched in his chair and relaxed. He almost fell asleep, but the door slammed open as Sierra rushed in with the results from the experiment. Dib jumped, surprised. He looked over at Sierra in anger.
"WHAT?!" Dib demanded.
Sierra stepped back, a little hurt by Dib's actions. "Um, sorry to bother you sir, but the results are in."
"And?"
Sierra blinked. "Oh, right. Um.." She flipped through the papers. "Oh, here we are." She cleared her throat. "Well, this paper compares the subject to an average, full-grown man. It shows the pain factor for both the subject and the man. The subject handled more pain than the man before it fainted."
"And this means what to me?" Dib said, tapping his finger on the table, obviously annoyed.
"It means that the subject has more endurance and can handle harsher experiments, you dolt," Sierra said, increasingly angry. Dib was still a child and children shouldn't speak rudely to respected adults.
"And where is the subject now?"
"It's back in the 'Experiment' room, getting cleaned up for tomorrow."
"Is it conscious?"
"It wasn't when I was down there, but I don't know now."
Dib put his hands together and brought them up to his face, thinking. Sierra stood motionless, watching his face. Dib sighed and shrugged.
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot, sir," Sierra said, suddenly remembering something. She flipped through her papers. "Here...ahem. Okay, after some basic testing, sir, the subject's vital signs seem to be dropping or are very low. Its temperature is almost constantly 102 degrees."
"Hmmm....well, we'll fit in any experiments we can, and we'll try to bring its health up. If it dies, we'll just go straight to the autopsy. Now, if you'd please leave, I've got things to take care of," Dib said, looking over at the pinball machine.
Zim laid flat on his stomach on the familiar table of the Experiment room. He was still unconscious, but was still having nightmares about what he'd just been through. Hulk and Chuck were cleaning his wounds, but Chuck wasn't being very careful about it and often caused the cuts to crack or bleed.
"You know, it's a good thing these little cuts are so small, cause we'd have to give this stupid thing some more blood if they were huge gashes," Chuck said, putting pressure on a slit on Zim's shoulder. Chuck was a little high-strung, cause he was forced to work overtime just to clean up the specimen. He wasn't getting paid any extra for it either. He was gonna have to have a little chat with the shift captain about his.
Hulk gently pulled some dead skin out of a cut. He was used to working overtime without pay, and didn't really mind it. He was interested about the experiment anyway, so he was actually happy to stay. He glanced up at Chuck and shook his head.
"You don't dig the tweezers into it, you'll just end up making it worse," he said. Chuck rolled his eyes and mumbled something. Hulk shook his head some more, then continued his work.
Zim coughed hard as he started to regain consciousness, jerking his head to the side. The two scientists backed away at the sudden movement. Zim opened one of his eyes weakly and looked around. He couldn't see anything, his vision blurred from being under so long. He was about to rub at his eyes when the pain suddenly came back. It was overwhelming, making his muscles twitch and clogging his throat. He gasped and fainted again.
"Pfft..figures. Why don't you be useful for once, Hulk, and get the painkillers?" Chuck said, pointing at the IV. Hulk sneered and rolled the IV over to Zim. He gently pulled up his left wrist and pricked the needle into him. Chuck was watching and curled his lip up in disgust.
"What are you, a nurse? We don't get paid for caring you know, we just get paid to make sure it isn't dead. And even if it is, we can just say it was sick or something. In fact, we're not getting paid at all right now, so who cares?" Chuck said. "Anyway, wake it up again, it's easier to handle it then - and it's also a lot more fun." Chuck grinned as he said this, an evil glint in his eyes. Dib had given permission to all the scientists to do whatever they thought was necessary to break the subject's spirit, but it had to be awake.
Hulk grunted in disgust, but started to shake Zim to wake him up. No response. He shook harder. Chuck groaned impatiently. "Pour water on it, or something!" Hulk walked over to the fridge and got the pitcher of water. He gave it to Chuck.
"You do it. You're the torturous one."
Chuck sneered. He walked over to Zim's head and raised the pitcher up high. He smirked evilly and poured the water down on the specimen.
Zim woke up immediately. He shot up to a sitting position. Chuck backed away. Zim sat for a moment, then started shrieking as his skin began smoking. He fell off the table with a thud. To his surprise, he hardly felt the impact. He also didn't feel much burning from the water, considering the amount that was poured on him.
Hulk walked over to Zim and picked him up. Zim didn't struggle, for he was too confused about why he didn't feel much pain any more. Hulk laid him down on the table, face up this time. Chuck was staring at Zim, wide eyed.
"Did you see that? He was, like, on fire or something! Just because I poured water on him!" he yelled, pointing at the pitcher.
"Make sure you write it down. It may be valuable," said Hulk, reaching for his tweezers again.
Zim just laid there, trying to understand. 'I should be in pain right now,' he thought, deeply puzzled. All he felt was the dryness of his mouth and the sweat rolling down his face. He was a little hungry, but it wasn't a painful starvation feeling yet. Or if it was, he didn't feel it. He also felt a thick object protruding out of his wrist. He shifted around so he could see it. 'Pffft...just some type of drug,' he thought, half disappointed. He sat up and looked around. To the right was a big, chunky man he'd never seen before. To the left was the man who'd hit him before. Zim cringed as he remembered.
"Aww, look, he remembers me," Chuck said, seeing Zim eyeing him. Hulk raised an eyebrow. Chuck grinned and came closer to Zim, who inched away. Zim didn't want to get hit again, even if he wouldn't feel the pain right then and there. He'd feel it later.
"What's the matter, pip-squeak?" said Chuck, still coming closer. "Don't ya like your Uncle Chuck?" Zim spun around and went to jump off the table, but Chuck grabbed his antenna and pulled him up to eye level. Zim grabbed at Chuck's wrist, not wanting to let his antenna be pulled out. Once he got a good hold, he started kicking at Chuck, aiming for his chest. Chuck, annoyed, grabbed Zim's neck with his free hand.
"Put him down!" yelled Hulk, enraged. He wouldn't stand for such inhumane treatment, even if it was a test subject.
"Fine," Chuck said with a smirk. He raised Zim up high, and with great force, slammed him down on the table. Zim went in to a coughing fit, and Chuck watched with satisfaction. Hulk's cheek twitched. How he wanted to smack Chuck.
'Oh, please let them leave me alone, please let them go away,' Zim thought, mad at himself for being so frightened. But he couldn't help it - Chuck was cruel and unpredictable.
Hulk sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess we should get back to work then," he said, pulling the tweezers out again. Chuck nodded. Zim arched his antenna up quizzically. Hulk bent over Zim, aiming for the big wound on his chest. Zim saw the tweezers and went into a panic, thinking it was a dissection.
"NO!" he yelled pulling back and almost falling off the table again. "STAY AWAY FROM ME, OR...or...DOOM!"
Chuck started laughing. "Doom! DOOM!" he said mockingly.
Hulk raised an eyebrow. "Doom?" he said, rubbing at his chin.
Zim stared blankly at the two scientists for a moment and became angry. He couldn't stand being laughed at. He glared at Chuck, gritting his teeth. He let his anger and hatred take over him, and he jumped off the table towards Chuck. Chuck, still laughing, was completely taken by surprise when the little alien landed on his chest. Zim started punching at him, not really aiming anywhere.
"Filthy little monkey pig, you dare mock me?!" he yelled in his fury. Hulk rushed over and grabbed Zim's foot, pulling him upside down into the air. He was holding a syringe. Zim saw this and started kicking to get free.
"Chuck write this down," Hulk said, keeping a good hold on Zim's foot. "11:47 PM, subject becomes too aggressive to handle consciously." He brought down the syringe. "Sorry little bugger," he said sadly.
------------------------------------
The next day
------------------------------------
Experiment: Shocks And Spikes(S&S)
Test Subject: Subject A
How it Works: Subject is latched down to a small, metal table. The subject is latched at the wrists, ankles, neck, and waist. Above the subject is a block of spikes connected to a chain link. If the subject struggles, it will get a shock from the table and the spikes will be lowered. How far the spikes come down and how bad the shock is determined by how hard the subject is struggling. Experiment ends if subject faints, understands what is going on, or if the spikes come too close.
Reason for Experiment: Tests to see if the subject can figure out problems under pressure. Also tests how well subject can handle electrical charges.
Zim was restrained on a rolling cart and was being pushed down the halls of The Society. His wounds from the last experiment were scabbed over and didn't hurt as badly as before. He squinted as the lights on the ceiling went by, each light brighter than the next, or so it seemed to him. He couldn't see who was pushing him, but it was probably better that way.
Thoughts raced around in his head, worries and hopes. One thought of escape crossed his mind and almost made him laugh in triumph. But when they approached their destination, a door with 'Testing In Progress' printed on it in bold, red letters, Zim was filled with nothing but dread. He thought of ways to try and stall his fate, but it was impossible, for his mind was blank from anxiety.
They stopped in front of the door. The scientist who had been pushing him came around and gave him an evil glare, then went into the room. Zim laid on the table, half trembling, wondering what was to happen to him, if he'd survive, and what other horrors awaited him if he did. A thought of suicide came across his mind, but he hurriedly shook it away. He would never, ever resort to that, no matter how bad it was.
A few minutes passed, and two strong looking scientists came out of the room. They pushed Zim and the cart into the room. It was poorly lit and looked old and unused. Zim strained his neck up to see. In the middle of the room was a small metal table with wires coming out at the sides. To the left and right were computers where the wires connected into. But the thing that held Zim's attention was the spikes hanging above the table, glistening in the dim light of the room.
The cart came to a stop near the table. The two strong scientists started to unlatch Zim from the cart. Zim, dumbstruck from the sight of the dagger like spikes, didn't fight against the scientist when he picked him up. The man laid him flat on the table while the other started latching Zim down.
'Oh no, no, no, no, no...' Zim thought over and over again, still staring at the spikes. 'This is not happening...it can't be.' He didn't even notice when the final latch was done and the two scientists grabbed the cart and started to leave.
"That was pretty easy," said the one, taller scientist. He'd been told that the test subject was very aggressive, and was surprised that they'd had no problems restraining it. The other scientist nodded. They left the room with a slam of the door.
Zim jumped at the noise. The slamming door brought him back to his senses. 'I gotta get out of here,' he thought. He inspected the latches. They looked weaker than the ones in the 'Experiment' room. Zim half smiled. Perhaps this was his key to freedom. He laid quiet for a few moments, listening for any other scientists and watching the spikes. After he was sure he was safe, he started pulling to get loose.
A strong jolt of electricity went through Zim's body, taking him completely off guard and making him yelp. His antenna shot straight up and sizzled. Zim heard a loud clanking noise, like old chains being forced to work hard. Zim looked up and saw the spikes coming down. His eyes bulged. He struggled harder to get loose. Another jolt went through him, more intense this time, making his eyes water. The spikes came down faster.
'This isn't science!' he thought, pulse pumping hard and fast, 'It's torture!' He gave one final pull to get loose, giving it all the strength he had. The shock of electricity made him cough, jerking his body, burning his skin. He looked up at the spikes coming down even faster than before. He laid limp, sunk in body and spirit. He'd given up.
After a few moments, the spikes stopped moving. Zim saw this and tilted his head in confusion. 'Why don't they finish me off?' he wondered. Forgetting that his hand was restrained down, he tried lifting it up to scratch his head. He got a tiny shock and the spikes dropped a few centimeters. Zim blinked a few times, trying to think. He lifted his hand up again. Another tiny shock and a few more centimeters.
Suddenly understanding everything, Zim sighed in deep relief. He looked up at the spikes. If he wasn't restrained, he could reach up and touch it. He started laughing insanely, tired and delirious, but so relieved that he was numb from all pain. The lights flashed on and the spikes climbed back up to their original height. The two strong scientists from before reentered, bringing back the cart and carrying yet another syringe.
"HAH HAH HAH WHOOoooo boy..," Zim chuckled as he drifted off to sleep.
Well, at least Zim's experiment ended on a happy note. Also in this chapter shows my deep hatred of the Girl Scout cookies. Again, sorry for the delay peoples, I'll try and speed up the next chapter.
Fact: This took 2 and a half days, 4 sodas, a pop-tart, and a jug of Pepto Bismo to write!
-Crystal