Chapter 20

The research room was shiny and clean, surfaces covered by a white plastic laminate and furniture smothered with glistening, hard scrubbed chrome. It was like he was in some sort of cliché evil-villain lab. He expected some mad bald man to walk in any moment with his pinky to his mouth, stroking an appalling bald cat.

Mortimer didn't like that movie.

They bid him with the butts of their guns to lay down on the table, securing him by ankle and wrist. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably- glad that no one decided to stick him with any needles.

He hated needles, especially when a relaxant waited for him on the other end. All but two of the armed guards left the room, the rest filing out orderly. Through another door came a flock of scientists in white lab coats, some wheeling in carts full of medical tools and other such things, still more holding clipboards and video-cameras, and still more after them carrying in large cases full of microscopes.

"Mutant 1011."

"Mmm?" he asked. "Would that be me?"

"Mutant 1011. Cooperate, and we will not have to execute force. Clear?"

"Crystal." he muttered. One more lab-coated adorned scientist entered the room. Bero. The one in charge.

"No, no, no. Get him up." the restraints were removed, and he was allowed to stand. He stretched slightly, and all the scientists took a wary step back. He smiled devilishly, but at the cocking of one of the guns held by the guards he immediately stood still, looking with his haunting golden eyes at what seemed to be the 'boss scientist'.

"Take off your shirt." he instantly complied. "Turn around." Mortimer turned in a full circle, feeling rather preposterous, but wary of the guns as well. In top form he would be able to defeat the two men hands down, but he felt the sedatives still thudding numbly in his veins. It wasn't wise to risk it. "Take measurements." he was bade to stretch out his arms, stand at full height and so on, and then was linked back in to the table, this time facedown.

"Let us see if you bleed red." came a voice behind him. Three razor-blades were inserted in to his upper back, between the shoulder blades. The cuts were not deep, but they were piercing tensed muscles, and it hurt. He hissed through his diminutive teeth as they removed the razors, gathering small samples of blood.

They then had him lye there for a half an hour to see what colour his scabs turned when dried. He was growing sore from the awkward position they had him in. He felt raw and undying hatred for the men and women around him, wishing that he could crush each and every one of them from above, on their weak and unexpecting shoulders.

"Up." barked Bero as the restraints slid off. He turned over again, this time; electrodes were attached to almost every inch of the green skin on his chest, neck and head. "This won't do." Bero said, shaking his head. "The hair has to go." he muttered. Another scientist walked forward, clipper in hand. His short, spiked emerald hair was soon gone, leaving a nice smooth surface for the monsters to place electrodes. Wonderful. They monitored his resting heart rate, his breathing, and what seemed to be his thoughts.

"We need you to relax."

"No problem." he hissed. He concentrated harder on putting the walls up around his mind- but he couldn't. These probes didn't operate like a telepath's mind. They were different. Perfect. Bloody perfect.

But suddenly, the monitors on his thoughts went blank. "Up the power." said Bero sharply. The power was increased, and Mortimer winced in pain. No...not again... still nothing appeared on the screen. "More power!" snapped Bero. Before anyone could process what was happening, Mortimer Toynbee had lapsed in to a violent seizure, and not a moment after, cardiac arrest.

((dodges sharp objects hurled at head and hides under desk))

((Eats a pop tart))

((Goes to see Finding Neverland))((Watches and re-watches Darth Maul parts of Star Wars Epp. 1. ))He was the only good part of that movie, I tell you. Ahh...the wonderbibbleness of Ray Park. ((Deliberately skips over last scene))

(((cue clown music)))

((music up))

((fade))
TA-DA!

Author's Note: I was thinking of being horrible and awful by having this chappie take place in the X-Mansion, but I decided against it.