Very few things in this world scared Hiei. Humans were never one of them. When crossing the barrier between the two dimensions, his main concern was to not be seen by whom he didn't want to be seen. Easy enough. But naive. He should also be concerned not to get caught.
If only he knew.
The bars in front of him were fuzzy when he opened his eyes. It took a while for Hiei to get a clear focus on them, the drugs still on his system. He was caged. Again. The crate so small he couldn't even stand up. He didn't know when he had been brought back to the cage, but he knew it wasn't too long ago, as the pain on his arm still stung.
He looked at where the burning sensation was coming from. A small fragment of his skin was missing, his flesh showing, red and raw. The humans that did that to him didn't want the wound to be covered; they knew the skin would recover by itself faster than humans bodies were capable of. They wanted to watch it.
Hiei grunted. He didn't know what was greater: his rage or his shame.
Had he had his sword still with him, things would be much different. He dreamed of chopped heads, of blood and scared-looking faces. He dreamed of disembowelling each and every one of the humans that kept him like a lab rat, even though he had promised Koenma to never harm a human again. What had the Reikai done for him?
Hiei was captured a couple of months ago, by men in camouflaged clothes driving camouflaged vehicles. He fought back, as anyone would, damaging their trucks, hurting their men. But their numbers were high, and their drugs were strong. Darkness fell, and when the light came to him again, he was in shackles, stripped naked, stored in a crate like an animal. That was probably how they saw him.
Men came in pairs, always in white. They ignored Hiei's yells while scribbling something on a clipboard, looking at test tubes, checking instruments. And if Hiei decided to get more aggressive, rumbling the bars of the crate and spitting death threats, they would up the dose, squeeze the steel panel of the cage forward until he had his movement restrained, and inject him with a substance powerful enough to make him go to sleep — only to wake up hours later, each time weaker than the time before.
He learned the hard way how harmful those sedatives were: one week's worth of injections and his Jagan closed shut, as dormant as the Dragon on his arm.
"Bring subject number six," Hiei heard a familiar voice instruct. That was how they referred to him. Hiei lost his name, got a number instead.
All the voices were the same by now, frigid and somewhat inhuman. Hiei waited for the figure in white to appear in his view — they all looked the same too. He showed his teeth, but the man, in his latex gloves, didn't seem to be scared anymore.
He was dragged out of his cage and forced to walk to the centre of the room: a large, sterile lab with a counter full of equipment and a wall full of crates. He was the only one of his specimens.
"Get him up," the same voice again.
Hiei snarled when someone grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the long table they had set for him. A bright lamp shone above it. He wanted to resist; deep in his mind, he truly wanted to rip the men apart and flee, but his body did not follow his desire. The words from his mouth, usually as sharp as his katana, were now indistinct muttering.
He blinked, and suddenly he was lying down, the bright lamp blinding him. He smelled chemicals. Heard the clinking of metal instruments. Felt the pinch of yet another needle penetrating his flesh.
The touch of the scalpel was cold when it punctured his torso. The tool slid down with ease, like cutting soft butter. His mind told him to go to sleep, but he forced his consciousness to be wide awake. His eyes remained opened as much as his lips, as if the air going through his nose wasn't enough.
The gloved hands were intrusive and uncomfortable. He could feel every brush on his core, every move on his innards. The sensations were too real, but also too ethereal. Dreamy thoughts teased him, heavy and light, just like the fingers inside of him.
Someone must have noticed he was awake, because a second needle pinched his veins. And now the room was too foggy for him to see anything.
Hiei blacked out to a place where the katana danced on his hands, where the Dark Flames obeyed him and where white coats were stained red. Where he laughed a devilish laugh, like he had so many times before. Where he was free.
Only to wake up hours later.
Weaker than the time before.
NOTE: Sorry about the dark ending =x
This idea came because at the end of the manga, a woman on TV talks about an encounter with an alien and the sketch is just like Hiei, hinting that what she saw was our beloved demon.
What if the military decided to perform experiments on this so-called alien? I think they would be interested in studying demon biology. So yeah, sorry again.