IIIII
"So, what are the results?" Ms. Viper questioned the row of doctors standing before her. She'd been growing more and more annoyed these past two days with the lack of any results. She'd expected a few delays, of course. Researching a new drug on a live test subject was bound to have a few complications. But it was beginning to grind on her patience.
Looking nervous, one of the older doctors stepped forward, breaking the line they'd made in front of her. "Better than previously anticipated, madam. Subject X handled the drugs extremely well. With no noticeable damage to his mental facilities."
"Oh?" Eyebrow raised, Ms. Viper glanced at the unconscious and deathly pale Peter Parker from the other side of the tinted window panel. The boy had surprised her many times over the years, giving her organization excellent new experimental data, which had helped solidify her position among the elders. But she hadn't expected him to survive their latest drug. It usually turned the subject's brain to paste. So seeing Peter make it farther than any had before was intriguing.
Not enough, however, for her to keep him alive.
"Not only that, but we also tested a... Well, a side project of ours."
Staying quiet for a moment, Ms. Viper tapped her finger along a steel table. Letting the doctor sweat for a little while longer before asking her question. "What side project?"
"Um... W-W ell..." Wiping away the sweat that had built up on his forehead, the old doctor looked to the side as his coworkers for help. Unfortunately, they stayed silent, all looking away from the old mans pleading gaze.
"I'm waiting." Ms. Viper said with a tap of her foot, her voice falling an octave as she gave a glance at her guard, the soldier drawing back his gun and pointing it at the doctor.
"A-After putting subject X back into another coma. We tested a new drug, wanting to see if we could get a different reaction to the 'are you a good person' question." Seeing the soldier's finger move closer to the trigger, the old doctor spoke quicker. "I-Interesting enough, we did, the drug somehow mutating. Most likely conflicting with one of the other drugs in his system. When we asked the question again, subject X no longer showed any signs of guilt. Not like he had much before after our previous experimentations. But this time was different! He appeared to be impassive, uncaring even. An almost complete opposite reaction from-"
"Enough... I assume you recreate this mutation and continue our goal?" Ms. Viper cut the doctor off before he rambled further. An emotion-suppressing drug wasn't anything new. What she wanted was to see how far she could push the human mind. Using drugs to stimulate the human brain to reach a higher potential. The aliens they'd studied already proved it was possible. They just needed to figure out how.
"...Unfortunately, madam, given the number of drugs in subject X's system, it's almost impossible to tell how or why without dissecting him. Even then, there's almost no chance to pinpoint and recreate the source."
"Good, you have two days."
"Wait just a moment, madam!" A younger doctor with black hair and dark glasses pushed through the crowd. "While I have no problem dissecting Mr. Parker. Far from it, in fact. May I have permission to experiment on him today before the dissection?"
Eyes narrowing, Ms. Viper stared rather coldly at the doctor. She did not like the interruption but knew she'd have to put up with it. She recognized the man, a son of a general under her command. Unless she wanted to offend the man's father, whose allegiance she'd only recently acquired. She'd have to put up with it. "What type of experiment?"
"Well, through my chats with Mr. Parker and our many, many experiments. I've come to admire his will and sheer stubbornness, something no one his age should possess. It's fascinating." Smiling, the doctor took another step forward, glancing at Peter through the glass. "With your permission, and as we are going to dissect him anyways. I'd like to see how far I can push him... Before he snaps."
"And how will you manage that in a day when he hasn't broken in three years?" Ms. Viper asked, growing curious about why the young man thought he could manage it.
"Well, in my opinion. After yesterday, I think Mr. Parker is halfway there already. But if you must know... I plan to use his fears against him. Turning him into the very thing that terrifies him."
Feeling a little amused at the man's idea, Ms. Viper turned away from the doctor and looked at Peter, considering it. "...Very well. You have my permission. But please, try and be unique. None of that red and blue nonsense. I see enough of that already."
IIIII
Groaning, Peter squinted as he slowly opened his eyes, feeling as if he'd been hit in the head with a hammer. A feeling he knew very well about as that had actually happened before. Some type of sick joke by one of the doctors. Slowly sitting up, Peter hissed through his teeth, feeling as if every joint and bone in his body was on fire. Worse than when he was in the electric chair. Something he'd thought he was getting used to after the constant electrocutions. But now, it seemed that wasn't the case.
Shakily placing his hands on the cold concrete floor, Peter pushed himself up. Every portion of his body screamed at him as he did so. He knew he needed to stand and try and clear his head. It was what he usually did after every session, a small part of him having decided to create the routine after the fifth therapy session. A particularly bad day simply because he'd been introduced to waterboarding.
Breathing deeply, Peter leaned against his cell wall. Feeling off, more than he usually did when being returned to his cell. It was as if a piece of himself was missing. From both his mind and his body. Not something he'd ever experienced before after a doctor's visit.
Stumbling closer to his cot at the corner of the room. Peter sat down, narrowly missing the bed, as he grabbed his head with his hands. The feeling that something was missing inside himself grew stronger and stronger. Like a heartbeat growing louder, only he was wearing a stethoscope, and it was at the volume of a pouring waterfall.
Hearing a sharp ding echo in the room. Peter practically leaped from his cot. Scanning around the room for the sound and noticing a shimmer for the first time. Focusing on it, he saw a large standup mirror in the center of the room. An odd addition to a prison cell and one that he knew shouldn't be in his cell... Unless, of course, it was another one of the doctor's games.
Nevertheless, he should have noticed it. Yet he hadn't. Peter had somehow managed to look everywhere else around his tiny cell except the massive wardrobe-sized mirror.
A little annoyed at himself, Peter walked towards the mirror, planning on punching it. A most likely rash and stupid idea. But at this point, if it destroyed whatever game was being played. He didn't care. So, ready to break the glass. Peter clenched his fist and took a glance into the mirror. Then froze.
His eyes locked onto the dark green hair and the pasty white skin reflecting back at him. Bleach couldn't have made something whiter than what standing in front of the mirror. The only color besides the hair was the blackened circle under the eyes... And the dead stare. A soulless look that would have been more acceptable on a death row prisoner than the image reflected before Peter. No, what he was seeing was a freak of nature that's creator had forgotten to add color. Leaving an incomplete human. The hunched shoulders and broken air seeming to hang around the man only cemented the fact it was incomplete.
It certainly wasn't him.
It couldn't be him. It just couldn't be.
"I see you've discovered you're new changes, Mr. Parker."
Hearing the familiar mechanical voice echo in the room. Peter began to feel something inside himself crack. "What have YOU DONE TO ME!"
"Nothing much, just a little makeover."
"...Makeover? A makeover? You turned me INTO A FREAK!" Without thinking, Peter did what he'd initially planned to do before he saw his reflection. Smashing his fist into the mirror, shattering it.
"Hmm... It depends on your perspective, really."
Falling to the floor on his hands and knees, Peter felt as if his mind was beginning to break. Unable to lie to himself any further and deny that the man who'd he'd seen in the mirror was, in fact, himself. He had, after all, now admitted it to the voice.
Shaking slightly, Peter let out a small sob in the center of his cell, surrounded by the shattered glass around the floor. Memories of the countless experiments, tests, torture, and everyday prison life tearing through his mind. He'd thought he'd stayed strong during it all. Oh, It had been tough, with most days worse than others. But he'd been doing it, taking each day as it came... Now though, the doctors had finally taken the last thing he'd genuinely owned, his appearance. The only thing they hadn't ruined or taken away... until now.
Wiping away some of the tears, Peter felt a bit of warmth fill him, coming from his hand. Lifting it to eye level, he noticed for the first time the shards of glass sticking out around his knuckles from when he'd punched the mirror. Staring at the blood as it dripped down onto the floor, drop by drop. He followed the blood trail to a dark red handprint, a few of the larger pieces of the mirror scattered about, the broken shards just close enough for him to see his atrocious reflection once more.
"...Why?" Peter whispered, lifting his head to the speakers above. "Why do this to me? Why turn me this...? Why turn me into a freak?"
It was silent for a minute, then an amused chuckle rang around the room. "I suppose soon it won't make a difference, so I'll tell you why Mr. Parker. For all these years, the experiments, the drugs, tests, and everything else. I've noticed how you were different... Special. All the other subjects died, either from the effects of the drugs or choosing to end their own lives. But you, you were different. You held on, always believing you could get your freedom someday."
"Of course, you never admitted the words aloud. No, that would have been foolish. However, I saw it in your eyes. The desire to be free. The desire to no longer be trapped going through experiment after experiment. The desire to kill us..."
"Now, as you've probably realized. Unless our drugs truly have turned your brain to mush. You will never and were never going to be free. Despite what Ms. Viper had told you before. So, before we dissect you, and yes, that is happening later today. I decided to try and see what would happen if I did this to you. It's for a little side project of mine for my research on fear and how the brain comprehends it, you see."
Listening to the doctor talk, Peter felt as if his mind was clearing up. Not like a fog lifting, revealing the obvious. But instead, more like fire. Burning away the crud to reveal the gem beneath. Showing something he didn't know had been there. "So... All this time. The drugs and experiments were tests for you to see if I would go insane? My Aunt? Ned? All those questions?"
"Well, I wouldn't go that far. It was more of a possibility that I wouldn't have minded seeing happen. But to be honest, I have no idea why Ms. Viper went through all that trouble. She could have easily just kidnapped you instead. It would have accomplished the same thing in the end."
With those words, Peter felt the last bit of his rationality snap as the doctor indirectly confirmed Ms. Viper had murdered his aunt. An accusation he'd thrown out at the trial but had never truly believed himself. It was too far-fetched, an unbelievable possibility.
Yet it had happened.
"Oh... I see. It was a plan."
"I'm sorry?"
"No, don't apologize. I understand." Peter replied, letting his arms fall before staring at his nightmarish appearance through the broken mirror shards. "The deaths, experiments, drugs... And even you. It was all one big plan... Wasn't it!"
"Hmm... Maybe we did give you one too many drugs after all..." Pausing again, the mechanical voice chuckled. "I fear I may have to take back my previous words Mr. Parker. Maybe you truly are insane."
"Oh? Am I? Yes... Perhaps I am..." Feeling a smile grow on his lips, Peter felt that weird feeling bubbling up beneath his skin again. But this time, it didn't dissipate or stop. It kept growing, more and more and more. So much that Peter felt ready to explode until, finally, everything came toppling over the edge.
"Hehehehe..."
"...Mr. Paker? What are you doing?"
"...Hehehehehe..." Practically vibrating uncontrollably, Peter felt a grin grow across his lips. "Hehehehehahahahahahaha!"
"Mr. Parker? Peter?"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAH!" Throwing his head back, another set of tears streamed down Peter's face as he laughed. Over and over and over again. Unable to stop himself and not bothering to try, he continued to laugh, his voice growing in pitch as it echoed through his prison cell. That crack he'd first felt within him now shattered worse than the mirror.
"Well then, I suppose this is goodbye. Hopefully, the next subject is as interesting as you were." With a click, the speaker turned off, and a green gas came from the cell vents, filling the room within a few seconds.
Still laughing, Peter watched as the gas fell over him, and instead of trying to escape. He decided to go against the voice, even if it was slight. Taking deep breaths and sucking in the gas, inhaling the most likely deadly drug shooting into the room. The way his mind immediately started to become drowsy, and his fingers began losing feeling, letting Peter know he was right about the deadly part.
Falling to the floor, Peter turned his head to the locked cell door. Staring at it as he gradually began to lose consciousness, the same wide smile still stuck on his face.
IIIII
"Poor bastard. What do you think happened to him?" A man's voice sounded through the darkness.
"I don't know, and I don't care, Rick. Let's just get him to those scientists like we were told, got it?"
Coming to, Peter felt strangely weightless, as well as a lot of pain coming from his arms and legs. Cracking open his eye by a small slit, he peeked out and saw a guard holding his feet with another one holding both his arms, explaining the weightless feeling. Keeping relaxed, Peter did his best not to twitch, letting them take him where they wished. More focused on his apparent survival. The pain was ample proof enough to show he wasn't as dead as he assumed he should have been after inhaling all those fumes in his cell.
Dangling in the air for the next few minutes, Peter found himself being lulled to sleep in a strangely restful way. The emotional stress and baggage he'd been dealing with were gone. No mental battle of thoughts heavy on his mind, bearing down on him. He couldn't feel... Anything. It was like freedom, mental freedom that was greater than anything he could describe.
"This is it. Set subject X on the table."
"...Are you sure? Aren't we supposed to carry him in?"
A heavy sigh came from beside Peter's left. "Kid, listen. You don't want to do that. Set him down, wheel him in, and leave. Simple as that. And remember to keep your head down. The last thing anyone here wishes is to catch the attention of the lot behind this door."
"Okay, okay, jeez. You make it sound like these guys are wackjobs. Not doctors."
Biting down on his tongue as he heard the younger man's words, Peter had to resist the urge to laugh and give a detailed list of how the doctors were most definitely 'wackjobs.' They might even listen, given how the other man didn't seem to care too much for Peter's... Therapists.
"Rick, take a good luck at the poor sod we're carrying. Does he look like someone in the care of a doctor?"
"...Not exactly."
Getting placed on some metal, Peter let his head fall to the side as naturally as possible. He opened his eyes just a bit more to get a better look at where he was being brought. The two men walking in front of him, one with his hand next to Peter's face. Pulling whatever it was he was on down the hallway. Halls Peter didn't recognize. The sterile white environment was like nothing he'd seen at the prison in any of the other sections he'd been at.
Seeing one of the men push open a door, Peter only managed to peek through it quickly enough to catch a glimpse of a labcoat before he closed his eyes again. A little bit of excitement began to tingle in his body while an almost burning mess of thoughts flashed through his mind. Was he about to meet the doctors? The voice that had done this to him? Perhaps at that dissection table that was mentioned in passing? Who would be there, Ms. Viper? The Warden? Someone he hadn't met yet?
There were so many possibilities...
"Excellent, wheel him over here and set our subject right there."
The voice came from what sounded like halfway across the room. A voice that commanded authority, and also carried a hint of glee. A voice Peter recognized even without the extra bells and whistle's coming through the speaker. It was Mr. Mechanical's voice. The one who tried to kill him.
Feeling some hands picking him off the table and onto a bed. Peter really wanted to sigh at how comfortable the whole journey was turning out to be. He overcame the urge, however, and only twitched with only a single finger. Unable to control that part of his body, the damage from the electric chair most likely but hopefully not causing permanent damage.
"Rick, Bob, you both can leave. I know how uncomfortable seeing these types of things can make you."
"...W-Will do, sir."
Hearing the door click shut after a couple more seconds, Peter licked the edge of his teeth. Finding it more and more challenging to play dead as time wore on. He wanted to give his voice friend a scare. Shocking the doctors who always seemed to be in control of everything. He wanted to see how'd they'd react to an anomaly. Something now out of their control... Expectations... Him. The lack of straps holding him to the bed wasn't helping him resist the desire any better.
"Poor, poor Mr. Parker. I had such high hopes for you... What a fun three years it's been. I can't say I'll ever have a subject as interesting as you proved to be. Oh well, let bygones be bygones." The voice said, sounding almost wistful. "Ted, Drake, prep containers. Everyone else, let's gather around and prepare for the dissection. We must decide where to start first and what to keep or remove."
Three years, that little tidbit of information kept floating around Peter's head. The rest of whatever was said was selectively ignored. He knew what they were about to do. He didn't need the details. The little matter of him being experimented on in Ryker's prison for three years was entirely unexpected information. Information Peter wasn't sure how to take. He was now eighteen years old, a man for all intents and purposes. He didn't feel like a newly young adult, though. Peter felt old, very old. Not in body but mentally.
In the darkest parts of his mind, in a place, he'd tried not to visit too much in the past before his latest cell time. When everything came tumbling down around him. Peter had always thought he'd been locked in prison for decades. It's what it had felt like. Day after day in a cell. No light, sun, or even the moon to shine over his face. Only artificial lights, sessions, and doctors. Making it almost impossible to keep track of the time that passed. To learn differently was almost like a shock.
"Time to open him up. First, let's start with the organs. Keep the heart pumping as long as possible. Nothing can go to waste. With luck, we'll be able to salvage everything."
"Dr. Drake mentioned wanting to use some parts of Parker here for his clone. A type of super soldier experiment, if you will. Nothing compared to the original. But a soldier immune to most everything is better than nothing."
"Excellent. Perhaps he'll be willing to grow one. Breeding a soldier with what we've done to Peter. Genetically passed down through their children could be incredible."
"Don't get too ahead of yourself. It's still in the early stages, Mark."
Hearing the chatter around him, Peter felt his finger twitch again. The urge to smile became greater the more he heard. Clones, organ harvesting, super soldiers... It was all so ever hilarious. How any of the people talking had gotten their license with their ideas was... Inspiring.
"True, I suppose. We can discuss it in more detail later. Now let's begin. Madame Viper wants results. So results we shall give her."
Knowing his time was closing, Peter took that as his signal and opened his eyes, the light momentarily blinding him before he refocused. A grin was already on his face as he watched the shocked and surprised looks appear on the doctors around him. Mark, the man who he now knew to be the voice. Stock still, scissors in hand mid-air, a disbelieving look on his face that made Peter quite pleased at finally getting one over them all.
"I hope you weren't about to start without little old me. I still have to thank you all for my makeover." Smile broadening further, Peter picked up a sharp-looking medical knife on a table by the side of the bed and quickly jabbed it deep into the neck of a doctor next to him. The action caused everyone to snap out of their daze and flee in panic, screaming, running from Peter as if he was a demon straight from hell.
Not what he'd expected, given their rather broad range of sadistic experiments. He'd thought they'd start beating him and overpower him with their numbers. There had to be at least eight of them to his one. Yet they ran. Even Mark, who'd been 'armed' with the scissors.
Slipping off the bed, Peter wobbled before getting his footing and looked down at the doctor he'd stabbed. The man's blood getting everywhere on the floor, an expression of horror on his face. A fitting look from Peter's position. A look he was finding he rather enjoyed seeing on one of his tormentors. Glancing in the direction the doctors had all run, Peter picked up another knife. Almost skipping past all the different medical equipment in the room, giddy as the joy of finally having the power to turn his dreams into reality swept over him.
It almost made getting a change of appearance worth it... Almost. He was still killing Mark for that. He was just going to have to make the man's death a little bit more special.
IIIII
