Author Note: Greetings, some may be confused by a story as long as mine appearing overnight, most would probably assume It was being written for a while now, most would be right. I'm sad to say I can't write nearly that quickly. I've been working on this story for about 6 months, it was the first story I've written I considered worth publishing, as I've done 3 others with 40K or less that weren't very good.

A word of warning for those who don't like SI-OC's, the main character of this one is technically an OC reincarnated to Jack, but it was mostly meant to give her different actions in the short term. I could have just said that Jack acted a little different and developments came from that. That is certainly how it developed, but I can't be bothered to edit it out as it is a very small part of the starting arc.

One final warning is that their are mentions of effectively torture, of both the physical and psychological kind. I can't say how well I did it, but it's there. There are also eventually some other NSFW parts that come later, but not for quite a while yet. I have been told that the first 5 chapters or so are a bit ... dark which, fair. I can promise it does get better for Jack ... eventually.

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass effect or any of it's properties, please don't sue me.

Enjoy

Chapter 1:

Time passes oddly when I'm like this. There are blank periods that I can't recall, but unfortunately not everything is like that. I long for those periods, ache for them. Why do I have to feel these sensations? Apparently, it would 'compromise the procedure'. I don't believe that. They just like making me hurt.

"Scalpel James?" drifted into my ears, the words sound vaguely feminine, but I'm not sure. My hearing and sight aren't great in this state. What's a scalpel? I can't remember. They use so many things on me, I can't keep track.

"Here you are …" fades away, overshadowed by the sudden pain I feel. A line of fire burning up my back, every millimetre a new high, every instant crushing me further. I want to scream, the urge overwhelming, but I can't. They won't let me, as soon as these sessions start, I can no longer move. I can't move a muscle, can't even make a sound. I don't know why, it's just something they can do to me whenever they feel like inflicting themselves upon me once more.

I feel every millimetre as it enters me. The burning sensation only growing worse with each passing instant. The burn grows ever deeper, bringing forth both dread and nausea at the sensation. Why can't you stop? Please stop, I don't want to do this anymore.

"Forceps *** **** **?"

The burning sensation had somewhat subsided but suddenly I felt something enter me … then it spread. This sensation is vile. The pain resurges, but when it had already reached the level of excruciating the differences are hard to define. The pain is overwhelming, but the knowledge I can glean of what was done, it chills me and brings with it an intense urge to vomit. I wouldn't be able to resist, except it never comes. They can stop that as well.

Please let it end. Why won't it end? Stop it, why won't you stop it?

It doesn't stop.

It never does.


Flashing light surrounds me. A whooshing sound filled my ears, joined by someone hitting something. It's rather rhythmic, are they a musician?

I lay there exhausted, unable to move. My body hurt, but even more than that it felt numb. I could feel scarcely little, why is that? I know my hand is right there. I can see it, why can't I feel it? Why doesn't it move when I tell it? And why's it black and red? That doesn't feel right, I could have sworn it was another colour, what colour? I can't seem to remember.

The musician seems to be getting tired, the beats slowing down.

The pain's starting to subside, that's good. I should be alright soon, I wonder what I'll have for dinner? I hope it's not ….

My eyes snap open, but that only blinds me. They scrunch back up immediately as I groan, my aching eyes quickly joined by the throbbing of my body, centralised on my back. Waves radiating out of a line on the right side of my spine. I'm lying on my front on a far too firm bed, the protesting of my neck a good indicator I should change positions.

I know I should move, so I try do so. As soon as I activate my muscles, pain shoots through me, and I fail to garner a response. Mustering up my resolve, I try again. It takes a second, my limbs feeling far too heavy, but I manage to roll over onto my back. That was a mistake.

My back screams back at me for that, the burning sensation flaring wildly, and I can't help the scream I give, the only thing limiting its volume being my lack of strength. I can't stay like this, it feels wrong, and my back is too injured for it.

As fast as I can, which is not as fast as I'd like, I sit up. It takes me two tries, my first only results in me jerking up and then back down directly onto the source of all evil, my muscles too weak for the motion. Pushing through as best I can, I grab the bar on the wall and use it to raise myself up until I'm sitting down again. I lean against the wall for support, the sensation still painful but only a deep ache instead of a blinding flare.

Finding my resolve, I open my eyes as best I can. Still squinting, I look around, my fuzzy head taking a moment to register what I'm seeing. I'm back in my room, the faded white walls, sparse furniture, and lifeless utilities staring back at me. Looking down, I confirm my suspicion. I'm in one of the hospital gowns again. After another experiment.

My throat feels dry, and my stomach feels painfully empty, but I can't move. I don't have the strength to. I can't get up to do anything, can't look out of the window at the blessedly free children. Can't even go read one of my stories yet again. All I can do is sit there. I can feel my eyes beginning to prickle. Why am I put through these experiments? Surely they've done enough. Why not use one of the other kids? I've had more than my fair share. I can't even remember why I was locked in here, what did I do to deserve this? My body is littered with scars, far more than the other children, let alone the adults.

Sinking back down onto the bed, I lay on my side in the most comfortable position I can find and let the pressure in my eyes go. Moisture beginning to leak as I start to sob, but they haven't even let me have this. The jerking motion tugging on my wound painfully, mixing my sobbing with moans. Judging by what I can feel, it will continue to do so for the next week. This was among the worse experiments they've done, but soon enough it will become just another one of my scars.

I remain there, my body wracked with the two sensations battling for dominance until I succumb to the bone-deep weariness that permeated my body.


That's weird, I think the sun's starting to go down. The light's starting to dim around me. I guess that was the signal for the musician to stop. His beat starting to slow down. Why is he not just stopping? Is it a cool down or something? Either way, the sun is going down awfully fast. I don't remember that happening where I currently live. Where was that again, did it start with a t …?

Well, I could do with a nap anyway, I'm starting to feel drowsy, and the light is the only thing left distracting me. The drummer finally stopped as the sun set. Hopefully I'm not too bruised tomorrow when I wake up. How did I get hurt again …?


Waking up the next morning, at least I think it's morning, I feel a little better. It doesn't hurt quite as much, but that doesn't say much. Still, my throat feels scratchy and dry, my stomach is trying to eat itself and my head is pounding, so I have to get up.

Groaning with every movement that tugs upon the wound, which is all of them, I sit up on the bed, my feet dangling off the side. Even this was a struggle, while the pain had somewhat reduced the weariness had certainly not. Still, I have no choice. Why did I not keep food and water beside the bed?

Grimacing, I slide off the bed as gently as I can. Placing down one foot at a time with care, ignoring the flinch from the cold floor on my feet, I force myself to stand. I can't help the slight wobbling that happens, although I can't tell if it's just my vision or my balance, or both.

Placing my hand against the wall, I make my way over towards where I remember my sustenance to be located. Limping my way over, I find myself next to the door where there's a tray with some food bars and water bottles on the floor. Right, I get given my food by the guards, and God forbid they do me any kindness by placing it next to my recovering self. Bending down as gently as I can, hoping to not exacerbate my wound, I pick up the tray of bars and one of the bottles, I carry them back to my bed with a faltering gate.

Placing them down, I make my way back to grab the other bottles knowing I won't be able to get up again once I sit back down. The second trip takes all I can give, placing one trembling leg in front of the other as I try desperately not to fall. In the nick of time, I make it back to my haven and climb on, shifting back until I'm leaning against the wall with my bounty, taking a few deep breaths.

Opening the wrapper of one of the bars and twisting the lid off the bottle, I take a bite of the dry bar. I quickly take a sip of the water, unable to swallow without the added moisture before continuing ad nauseum. I can't help but get the feeling these bars should taste different, I don't know why. I've tried licking everything else in the room, but nothing tastes any better. They do taste different though. Still, the feeling persists.

I eat all the bars, pushing through how uncomfortable this made my stomach feel. It's a struggle, but I know from experience that I feel better when I do. Feeling too full is better than hunger. Finishing up, I'm left with a bunch of wrappers and one unopened bottle. Keeping that, I shove the rest off the bed onto the floor. They will only leave their location once I can take them back to the door for the guards to retrieve.

Even that small amount of effort exhausted me, and I have to lie back down on my side. I don't cover myself, I wouldn't be able to even if I could, lacking anything to do so. Closing my blurring eyes, I sink back into my bed's embrace.


I'm at a rather boring party if I'm being honest. Work thought it would be kind of them to throw us a party to reward us for our hard work. I really would have preferred they didn't. A day off would have been nice, maybe even a bonus, but no. They had to organise a party after work hours, when I could normally be at home in comfortable clothes. They said the party was optional but believe me, it was not. At least there's free alcohol.

I'm standing there trying to make everyone else seem less boring when I hear a commotion. People are shouting, some women are screaming, but the blaring music and flashing light mask any other details m fuzzy head pick out.

The commotion is getting closer, and I'm starting to get worried as I look back. The lights have all started to turn red, how ironic. They haven't changed colour all night, but they pick now of all times to start bathing the floor red.

Wait …

The light changed colour didn't they?

The commotion has almost reached my position. I had barely even noticed it and it was right next to me. Suddenly, a dark figure breaks through the crowd and looked around briefly before spotting me. They sprinted towards me, and something glints in their hand.

I just stand there staring, not registering what's going on until he reaches me and jabs forward with what I have now noticed is a rather big knife. Australia would be proud. Wait … knife?

The burning sensation suddenly breaks me out of my daze, the horrific feeling located in my stomach that overwhelmed everything else. The what I could now tell was a man in dark clothing raised his other hand to push me over, extracting his knife in the process as he began to look around again, searching for another victim even as I slammed my head against the ground harshly.

Oh my god, did he just stab me!? What will I do? He took the knife out as well, that's bad isn't it? It can't be that bad, surely. I'll be fine, I'll just be left with a horrific scar for the rest of my life. I hate scars, I only have a few and each only brings back the memories of what caused them. I can't stand looking at them, always wearing clothes that cover them, thankfully I can do so easily with where they're located.

Ignoring the pain, I turn myself onto my side, getting into the recovery position. That should help whoever finds me.

Even with all the commotion, the lights never stopped flashing. What's with those anyway? They're rather distracting. Not distracting enough for me to not notice the blood beginning to stain my hand.

That can't be good …


I snap my eyes open, breathing heavily with a lingering ache in my stomach. I can never remember quite what I dream about, retaining only the briefest of flashes but I'm always left with an ache in the same spot. Thankfully, the other ache on my body is mostly gone. This is the best I ever feel, the best they ever let me feel, only small aches and pains.

It's been a week and with it my recuperation period is over, as is my protection. They leave me alone to heal after every major experiment, careful to always give me the time to heal, then the torment starts.

They've recently started to put me through tests, checking on my progress. I wish I could ignore them, as it doesn't matter what I do. If I ignore orders, pain. If I follow orders, pain. If I do nothing, pain. The only difference is, after I follow enough orders, the pain stops. The amount is never small though.

Getting up, I walk my way over to the door to pick up the new clothes left for me. They are only left when I'm about to leave the room for experiments, or tests.

An hour later, I'm waiting by the door when they come for me. Two guards that tower over me, armed with guns pointed at me. I'm not sure what they do, having never seen them fired. They never get close, always maintaining their distance and I let them. I once tried walking closer to one, wondering what would happen, but they shouted at me with guns raised until I backed away.

I lead the way down the familiar route, no need for the brisk instructions the guards once gave me as we walked towards the testing room. The door was open when we got there and I stopped once I was in my designated circle, watching the people with lab coats behind a window talk amongst themselves. They talked for a few more minutes as three targets were set up in front of me, each further away than the last. Once that seemed done, one of them spoke into a microphone

"Subject Zero, you are to launch an attack at the first target. Use as much force as you can and strike as close to the centre as possible." The man ordered, no leeway in his voice. Gritting my teeth, I almost refused him but the guard behind me with his Omni-tool open made me hold my tongue.

I only refused an order once, once was enough. I'm not sure how, but the guard pressed a button on his Omni-tool, and an electric shock was blasted at me. The shock hurt immensely and caused all my muscles to contract, knocking me over. I was ordered to stand up and attack but wasn't given the time to do so before the second shock came. I managed to attack before the third.

Banishing the memory, I turned towards the first target and took a deep breath as I closed my eyes. Releasing the breath, I opened them and started to concentrate. Tugging at the muscle only in my head, I triggered the change as a blue aura spiralled around me. Pushing as hard as I could, I grit my teeth and tugged on the trigger as hard as I could while punching forward with my right arm. I grunted as I released the burst of energy at the target, the bright light spiralling though the air in a ball of unrestrained fury.

It hit with a loud bang that created a slight airflow on my face and a flash of light. Watching for a second I saw the heavily damaged target falling apart. The blast hit dead centre. It always did these days, my aim long having been beaten into me.

"Now the second." The man ordered, saying nothing else.

Repeating the process, I grit my teeth once more, aiming at the second target, this one further away. Concentrating as much as I could and aiming as well as I could, I released a second burst of volatile energy that flew towards the next target. I was more concerned about this one as I had only been able to hit it for a short while. Pushing all I had into the attacks always made it hard to aim, the mental effort taxing to say the least. Luckily, I hit the target this time. While the blast wasn't quite centred, it did leave the target heavily damaged which meant no punishment for me. Which was fortunate, as even releasing these two blasts left me fatigued, my breath coming heavy as my eyesight began to waver.

"Now the third." The same cold voice echoed through the room.

I was dreading this one. It was twice the distance of the second target, a full 10 metres away. I had yet to hit it, and even if I could aim properly my attacks would always dissipate into the ether, unravelling before they hit the target. Taking a deep breath, I activate the muscle again as I put everything I can into the blast, praying for success, I punch my right hand forward and release another blue blast. I watch it travel forwards, quick as the other two. Even as it approached the target, I could see it starting to unravel. My hopes began to plummet but despite all odds, the attack reached the target. I couldn't believe my eyes as it struck, having never happened before. Yes! I hit it! Sure, there's only minor damage, but that counts right? Looking towards the man directing me, I find his cold eyes staring at me. I couldn't help grinning at my success. I watched as he pushed the button to talk to me.

"The target wasn't damaged enough, Subject Zero." What? No! I hit it –

The familiar shock hit my back, screaming through my nerves. The still healing scar igniting in pain and I fell onto my knees. Unable to stand but having enough experience to not collapse onto my side. I screamed all the while until the sadistic guard stopped shocking me. Clenching my teeth, I felt the tears streaming down my face as I looked back up at the scientist staring at me with a bored expression on his face.

"Hit the third target again subject zero."

What? But I've never released more than three proper blasts. Feeling the throbbing in my now bleeding scar, the blood dripping down my back, I grit my teeth as I struggled to my feet, wobbling from side to side. Turning towards the target, I can feel my vision swaying. I don't have the energy to hit the target. But I know what happens if I don't.

Praying for a miracle, I pull on the muscle yet again. Hoping for a miracle, I launch my hand forwards once more but as I do my arm spasms and the aura around it dissipates. All I released was a small shockwave that barely flew a metre before dissipating. I barely noticed that though, as I collapsed to the ground. This time I didn't catch myself, lacking the energy even as my head hit the ground.

"You failed to hit the target Subject Zero." The man's dispassionate voice echoed through my head. Even as I processed them, I was hit again. I screamed, flailing around until the shock stopped.

"Again, subject zero."

I can't even muster the effort to protest, let alone stand. I lay there until I'm hit once again by the shock that left me flailing and screaming once again.

"Get up Subject Zero."

"I … can't." I state, forcing the words out. My whole-body aches now, the aftershocks of the electricity remaining. I have no energy left to spend.

It takes two more shocks before I black out.


Once more I gain consciousness on my bed, my body screaming at me. My arms hurt, my legs hurt, my head hurt, but my back hurt the most. It seemed particularly angry at me, showing its displeasure with force. The previously healed scar burned like it had in the first few days, drawing my attention no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

Groaning, I open my eyes blearily, my head fuzzy. I haven't been shocked that many times before. What was so different this time? This was the best I'd ever done. My body aches in a way familiar to me, a combination of the overuse of my biotics and the aftereffects of the electricity. The result of both making it both painful to move, and difficult to get my muscles to respond. Sitting up gingerly, I start looking myself over, taking stock. Touching everywhere I can, I seem to be okay. Nothing hurts when I touch it, aside from the burning muscles I already new about.

Touching my head makes me wince a bit, I can feel a welt on my forehead. I must have slammed my head into the ground while flailing about. That only leaves my back. Sliding off the bed, I turn back to find a small red spot on the white sheets. Of course. My only consolation is it's small, I mustn't have bled much. It's not like it's the only spot on the sheets. They aren't replaced very often. I can't do anything about it though, I tried begging at one point, nothing changed.

Averting my eyes, I turn around to grab my only water bottle and slowly make my way over to the window, gingerly sitting down on the rickety chair they had given me. Sipping at the bottle, I looked out the window. The others were there, running around. Their laughter could be heard faintly, tickling my senses just slightly.

They looked so happy …

Running around because their muscles aren't sore. Screaming with joy like everything is right in the world. At least they could.

"Why…?" I croaked out, my voice soft and raspy. So different to theirs. It hadn't always been like that, but these days it was nothing but. It never had the chance to recover.

Watching them made my chest hurt in a way that was both different, and all too familiar. It ached in a way that I couldn't quantify. Made it hard to breath. Hard to swallow. Left my eyes heavy.

"Why are they free?"

I raised my legs up onto the chair, wrapping my arms around them even as I continued my solitary vigil. My aching body an ever-present reminder, even as my eyes started to burn. I closed them, unable to watch any longer and placed my forehead on my knees, ignoring the still forming bruise.

"Why am I not?"