A/N: Ok, after a few months of doing nothing I finally write this chapter up in a couple of days. Go figure.
So here it is for those of you who give a sh*t.
Don't forget to R&R.
In the inky blackness a figure stirred, as its head swayed a blinding flash lit the room. It began to blink furiously to rid its eyes of salty tears, a thought made itself clear my limbs are bound to the table. Coherent thoughts seemed hard to come by for however long the being lay there. It's mouth moved, a litany of unintelligible words tumbled out of cracked lips. Something brushed it's arm, it could see figures moving in the edge of it's vision but couldn't cling to consciousness as it's strength and energy seeped away slowly.
._.
The Doctor was happy, they had found another subject a mile or so outside their compound. The only thing bothering him was the fact they had seemed to come out of nowhere, one minute nothing, then when the second patrol car made it's rounds, there he is laying on the side of the road. The Doctor sat at his desk, the clicking of a keyboard and an eventual beep signified the entry of his password. Mumbling under his breath he begins to type his report of a previous experiment.
Doctor T. Kerins had filed his report, shut down his console and fluidly stood up. He began to rifle through some pages littered about on his desk their rough texture giving him a smile to match a Cheshire cat. Each page held the reports on the most successful participants of his pride and joy project. All subjects had met terrible deaths, yes, but the knowledge gained by each one of them had been invaluable to the continuation and eventual completion of his pet project. A slight whoosh of air announced a lab assistants arrival in the stillness of the office, the doctor whirled around, his lab coat giving the sinister impression of a vampiric cape.
The young man stumbled his words at first, the doctors reputation preceded him.
"The subjects are ready for the procedure sir" he then nodded to his superior and scurried back through the dull, lifeless facility.
Doctor Kerins smiled, he was at the head of something beautiful, something wonderous, and it was his.
._.
The sound of torrential rain battering the windows can be heard throughout the dark room, a man enters. His features obscured he sits at a computer terminal, the screen lights slice through the inky blackness. A red loading bar flashes on the screens bottom half.
Lines of text appear, black filling in the white.
-Welcome Director-
Operation /Arracht/ Files Initializing…
Acquiring Subject Data…
The lines of text flow down the screen, depicting various people and the procedures used. Eventually the scrolling stops at an entry.
Subject 2-57
Male, Caucasian
Unknown Origins
Processed: Yes
Tests Completed: 8
Stage Reached: 3
Survivability Rate Of Particular Strain: 37%
Additional Information: 57 has preformed extremely well, each test has been accepted without problems. By this stage in testing most subjects begin to show complications. Apart from 21. 25 and 42 this is the most successful of this strain, We are getting closer! Side affects have presented themselves they include a minor growth stimulation, eyes that appear to glow (like cats eyes almost) and damaged voice box, but nothing of any consequence.
I don't know where we got him, he's in better condition than most of the waifs and strays we collect. I know what we're doing can be called morally ambiguous but I hope this wasn't a snatch and grab case.
The information gained on 57 will contribute to the furthering of the research on all strains, especially 1, 3 and 5.
The screen glared brightly for a few more seconds, then the room was thrust into darkness again.
._.
In waking hours it's like looking through fogged glass and my body feels numb, sometimes my body doesn't respond to its brain's own calls. Uncounted time passes, like being a slave or in extreme solitary confinement, only being freed long enough to be tortured. The pain, the pain is consuming my mind, please… stop
…
…
WHY WON'T IT STOP!
._.
The sound of incessant beeping and people shouting met Matthews ears, the sounds constantly fading in and out.
"He's waking up"!
"Get the anaesthetic"
"hurry, hurry"
"Shit, this can't be happening"
Matthew opened his eyes, straining against the pure white glare. Lifting his arm up to eye level revealed numerous wires and tubes, Matt's mind went into overdrive. Every movement took Herculean effort, but he had to get them out. In the distance a monotone droned loudly. Something grabbed his other arm, turning wildly he witnessed a needle being driven into his arm.
As Matthew faded out of conscience he could hear clearly again.
"Oh my god we nearly lost him"
"damnit what happened"
"run the tests again".
With that Matthew dropped out of reality and into the safety of his subconscious.
._.
I'll never be free of this place thought subject 57, with a mind full of melancholy. He rattled off what he did know about his situation.
Time: unknown, date: unknown, place: unknown. Matthew had been placed in a cell that would've made a Spartan apprehensive, thanks to a rapidly deteriorating mental state. The bastard scientists had ironically saved his life after three suicide attempts to escape this horrific plane of existence. He was to quote one of the pricks 'special', and was kept alive. Even though they tortured him regularly, leaving him in such pain that it left him crippled until the next batch of tests. At least he gave them something to remember him by when he did have enough energy, but those times only came during blue moons.
To pass the time that wasn't spent simmering in a puddle of his own piss, he talked to himself often re-enacting movies, games and books that his fractured mind could remember. This led to him creating his own world to hide away in, resulting in a 'degree' of madness.
._.
Something was wrong, no one had come for him yet.
Alarms blared and flashes of blood coloured light had forced him to huddle in a corner, head down, he whimpered. The sound beat his ears, the light flayed his eyes, more pain assaulted his system but it didn't make him numb. It didn't smother his mind until he slept, it made him feel tense, awake, aware. Now and again clusters of uniformed men would charge by his cell, their voices harsh and grating.
._.
Hours later it stopped, the noise died down, the men calmed. He pieced together what happened from the talking men, someone had tried to escape, they were nearly successful as well.
It was possible to escape!
For the first time he could remember Matthew felt something, he felt hope. He just had to hold on, bide his time. He had to get out, had to escape, to save himself.
Matthew had purpose, a will to live, now he wouldn't give up easily.
._.
Days passed, Matthew kept hope, each day observing, each day thinking. He waited patiently, waiting for them to make a mistake. Whenever they came he would act obedient, there was no reason to waste his energy, no reason to make them suspect anything.
He fought for survival.
._.
Matthew's fragmented mind pulled itself together for the coming effort, they would regret torturing him. Subject 57 of strain Two would have his revenge.
I'm a ready as I'll ever be, time to make it count!
And with that all hell broke loose.
Well I'm quite happy with way this turned out, if you did too please let me know if not, well tell me where I went wrong.
For those who will read this: You might want to put this on alert, as I will be writing for a while, without posting, then I will post the other chapters when completed this story arc.
Thanks for reading.