10 YEARS AGO
Subject Number 3 was firmly strapped to a sturdy armchair by wrists and ankles. It certainly wasn't a comfortable position to be in. The room itself was dimly lit, as well as drafty and damp. It wasn't very large and was comprised of simple concrete walls. One wall was entirely floor to ceiling mirror, that clearly housed a safe room behind it. Behind that mirror, Subject Number 3 was being monitored by the all of the program directors. Every subject had been groomed to work as a unit, but the program had finally reached its truly experimental phase. So it had been decided that only one member would advance in order to see the results. It was obvious that the best choice was Number 3 and the rest that were in the same phase were either destroyed or sent to other programs, none of which, were as prestigious. Still, it was a risk. If this test failed, they could also lose their best and most developed product of the program. The head director was willing to take that chance however, and nodded his head for the test to commence.
The lights in the room blazed to life and Number 3 blinked at the sudden stark white brightness. By now 3 was used to these never-ending situations. There was no reason to be startled or afraid. That had all but been trained out. In moments like this, it was important to focus on the surroundings and on what was available to use. It may not have seemed like there was much for an average individual, but for a subject like Number 3, there was plenty. Just no one else could see it yet, and 3 would do their utmost best to reveal it.
An exceedlingly large and bulky man entered the room. He was dressed completely in black and his face was covered. He wore a hat, ski mask and gloves to cover up any indicator of his physical appearance. Upon first observation by 3, this man was not a professional. Just some hired muscle and it showed as the man seemed a bit surprised to walk into a room with a child strapped to a chair. A child with hair shaved down to its scalp and just a smock covering it's smaller frame. There was no indication as to whether this was a girl or a boy, but that wasn't what the man was here to find out.
He wasted no time in proceeding with his orders though. This wasn't a man with a conscience or a moral compass. His direction had been clear. Take out the individual inside the room by any means necessary. So he trudged directly over to Number 3 and punched the kid in the stomach. Number 3 hadn't been given much of a chance to catch onto what was happening until another blow connected across their face. The only way this would end for 3 would be by taking out the offender. Number 3 could feel blood filling inside of their mouth and found this to be an opportunity to enrage the attacker. Always take the time to learn about your opponent, is what 3 had been taught. This man was sizable, but unskilled, so he probably lacked discipline in controlling his emotions. This would work to 3's advantage. As the assault continued upon Number 3's face and midsection, 3 kept their mouth closed tight as the blood began to well up. 3 finally found an advantage as the man slightly paused to catch his breath. He didn't mind beating on a kid, actually enjoyed it a little, but it was still something new for him. He stepped back in to go at his work. He had been contracted to basically kill this kid, but he hadn't been given any tools and it was kind of awkward since the victim was all tied up. As he stepped back in to continue to beat the child to death, Number 3 stunned him by forcibly spraying an entirely full mouth of blood into his face. Success. The man just glared at Number 3 in full shock. 3 could see in his enraged eyes that the plan was now working, which promptly brought an iron-like fist to the jaw. Perfect. A tooth had been broken and now Number 3 managed to claim it.
The large man took a step away to recover. He cracked his knuckles on each hand, then rolled out his neck a bit. Fuck awkward, this little shit was going to die. He stepped back in close, ready and willing to complete his job. Number 3 was ready too however, and shot the jagged piece of tooth out from their mouth. With deadly accuracy it plunged into his eye. The pain of it was comparable to being shot in the eye. Instinct took over for the man, as he raised his hands to his face while stumbling back again. His eye stung fiercely, so he pressed one of his meaty fingers to it. There was a significant amount of blood, when he pulled is hand back to inspect it. His eyes widened at seeing the damage. Then he heard a chuckle from the prisoner. That was it. He'd probably just lost his eye and that little fuck was laughing about it. Time to end this.
He had been briefed to make this last long, but after seeing the condition of his opponent, he had never even considered that he could get injured. The thug rushed at Number 3, preparing to loose a number of blows to the face. But just as he got near, the subject tilted the chair back with their toes and the man lost his balance. He was in mid punch when his target unexpectedly moved. He recovered slightly by grabbing the back of the chair with his left hand but he was still off balance. Since the chair was already tilted back, his added weight sent both of them toppling to the ground. Which in turn, snapped a leg off the chair. For most, one broken leg would not be enough to free them but this was Subject Number 3 and a broken chair leg was equal to giving someone grenade. 3's right ankle was still firmly attached to the broken leg, but after some maneuvering, 3 was in better position to attack. Number 3 lifted the freed limb over the prone aggressor and swiftly cracked the chair leg against the his temple to disorientate him further. There was a sickeningly, wet thwack upon the man's skull and his ski mask came flying off from the force of the kick. He wasn't dead or passed out yet, but he was badly disorientated.
Meanwhile, 3 focused on hacking at the other intact chair leg until that snapped as well. The directors behind the glass were near salivating as the subject stood up and made quick work at becoming totally free of the chair. Number 3 was now in complete control. It was odd for the stranger to see a child who was no more than five foot tall menacingly approaching him. His injured eye stung and he was groggy from the last blow to his head. This man was no saint. He wasn't even close to being a decent person. So he was quite familiar with the look of murder in someone's eyes when he saw it. This child intended to do just that. He did his best to put his hands up in front of himself and started to plead for his life. Number 3 just stared at him. 3 knew their training well, which included efficiency. The goal was to kill this man without hesitation, but Number 3 could sense this man was vile and although they weren't ever to let emotions rule them, 3 couldn't let this man win a swift death. The chair leg was clutched in 3's hand as if it were a club. 3 took once last moment to stare into this man's eyes. He wasn't a good man. His eyes spoke of terrible things he had done in his life. No. He didn't deserve a clean death. Number 3 proceeded to raise the chair leg over their head and began to rhythmically hammer it down upon the man. He screamed. Number 3 continued. After a lengthy moment of time, it was done. The hired threat had been taken out.
Just then, a green light turned on and an alarm went off, which signaled 3's success at completing the test. Number 3 dropped the bloodied chair leg and turned towards the door to wait for the extraction team to begin. The program director studied 3 through the security mirror. It hadn't quite been a success, as the subject should have just snapped the victim's neck and been done with it. But the result had been nothing short of beautiful. Number 3 was utterly beautiful in his eyes; a nearly perfect creation. He just needed to continue more training to remove the slightest defects that remained.
Subject Number 3 did not disappoint.