ATTENTION: This chapter is SKIPPABLE. Due to some of the content to be found within, I will provide a "TLDR" at the very end of the chapter. If gore isn't you cup of tea, skip to the end. You'll find a Bold-Print TLDR that recaps the chapter's key events, without going into the nasty details.

Content Warning

=Moderate Gore, Peril, Body Horror, Self-Mutiliation, Suicidal Themes, and Child Violence=

The Cold. I've always hated the cold.

The floor of my cage was like ice, like a thousand knives stabbing me all at once. Ya never stopped to think about just how painful the cold was, really. Whenever you touched something ice cold, you'd leap away like it was red hot. Ever realize that? It was painful. At first it stole your warmth, at first it was just uncomfortable, but then you'd realize you were developing blisters.

But eventually, you just lost all feeling.

I laid naked on the floor of my cage, I had been too tired to even curl into a fetal position. My head had been shaved bald and my forehead tattoo'd with a barcode. The bile that had dribbled out of my beak had long since dried on the floor, I had run out of food to vomit up anyways. One of my four hearts pulsated with a sickening twitch in my bloated chest. It didn't make one of the staples holding my torso together pop off this time, though. Lucky me.

I stared into the absolute darkness. They had cut all the light to my bunker. When I had woken from stone sleep a week ago, I thought I had gone blind. But what I couldn't see: I could hear… and I could certainly smell. The screams and dying moans of the dissected humans in the underground never ceased. And the stench of rotting corpses, human feces, and excessive chemicals never left me. And since stone sleep always reset my senses, I'd never get used to the smell - every awakening I had to get back to square one. At least my cage was better than The Box.

God I didn't want to go to The Box again…

I had given up convulsing. I had given up crying. I had given up dignity.

I only survived.

I thought by some miracle I could hold onto my standards. I thought I could keep strong even when cut off from the sunlight for stone sleep. But even through my bloated chest and the amalgamation of pustules around the seams in my surgical scars, I could still see my ribs. I had refused their food for over… I don't know, two weeks? I had no fucking clue how to track time outside counting stone sleeps anymore. I had vomited from the sheer starvation, my stomach had cannibalized what little body fat I had to stay alive... But I had stubbornly refused all their provided 'meals'. I couldn't cross that bridge, not that, not what they gave me. I would refuse to eat what they 'offered'. I just couldn't make that jump. If I went down that road, I'd never come back.

Until last week that was.

I made that deal with the devil.

Suddenly, the loud shrieking of swinging metal and the pouring in of red light from the hallway came out. I shrieked and scurried away until my back pressed against the bars as a guard came in. I shivered and tucked myself into the corner as tight as I could. Please, no more pain.

But it didn't come to take me. It came in carrying a metal tray. It squatted down and slid it into my cage through the little slot beneath the bars. It was meal time again.

The tray hissed over the metal floor with a squeak, it was the first meal I had gotten in the past three stone sleeps.

What they fed me?

I looked down at my tray without expression. Two kidneys, a fatty heart, parts of small intestine, and -as a special treat today - the severed leg of a human.

My meals were organs my body rejected.

Routinely I'd be drugged, opened up, and have my organs swapped like they were changing parts in a fucking engine. Any part my body took a liking too, the scientists fished out and brought in for study. Any part my body didn't accept? Well, it was put on ice and fed to me days later.

I had refused the first few nights. Well, more than that I think. They had ripped out pieces of me. Almost all my original body parts - my lungs, my intestines, my liver - had all already been removed and taken for study. My appendix, which was useless to them, was given back to me as my first meal here. I had still been prude enough to reject food then… and had to watch my own appendix slowly rot until flies and rats feasted upon it in front of me nights later.

My body parts… things that had been with me since birth, had been removed and harvested. Now I was pulsating with organs from human strangers… the organs of dead men now beat within me. The only thing that was original inside my chest was my organic, gargoyle heart… but that thing had been ripped out in a different way a long time ago, anyways.

Well. At least meat from flesh was a rare treat. I picked up the human's leg and shakily brought it to my jaws. I tried to not think about who this man was. What was his name? What was his story? Was he someone's child once? Did he have dreams? Did he have laughter? I tried to ignore it. I was always stuck on the brink of starvation. This meat was the only thing that kept me from going to that permanent, dark abyss.

I closed my eyes and sank my teeth in.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

Drowning. I never knew how painful it could be.

It wasn't anything as peaceful as being strangled to death. It was being sucked into a void where reality refused to set in. You had no idea which way was up or down. All the shaking and thrashing to try and grab onto something, anything. You were blind, just the murky blackness as you flailed around - but you knew every desperate mindless thrash spent more of the very oxygen you were running out of. I had taken air for granted.

Now came the bad part.

Even when the blood vessels in my eyes were popping, I refused to let go of my breath - but my body betrayed me - the same way your hand would recoil if someone stomped on your hand, even if it was holding onto a cliff's edge for dear life.

Water flooded into my gaping maw. I gagged and wanted to vomit it back up through my nostrils - but the water rushed in through that too! You couldn't claw at your throat because you were so desperately thrashing widely for something to grab onto! Something! Anything! But the water filled your lungs, they felt like they were going to tear from within! My Stomach, my lungs, my INSIDES all filled with water and dragged me down.

I don't know if I lost consciousness from lack of air or the pain first.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

But I could never be permanently free of the pain. After I lost consciousness, they'd always resuscitate me. Then came the removal of the lungs and a heart or two to be taken away for testing and new ones to be stitched in.

They kept me conscious on the operating table of course, even put a mirror on the ceiling so I could watch. I was given numbing so I wouldn't pass out from the pain, but that didn't mean I couldn't hear and see all the cutting, slicing, and crunching inside my torso. I was so drugged up I couldn't even close my eyes.

Just had to watch. Trapped in my own body.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

Another visit from "The Barber" . They had shaved my head when I first got here. Wouldn't want me to have too much dignity now, would they?

Another trip to the electrical grid. They figured they'd up the voltage this time. What stray strands of hair stubble I had left stood on end before it sizzled away.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

I woke from stone sleep. I was consumed from stone sleep.

More tests. More Post-Action surgeries. More agony.

I woke from stone sleep. I was consumed from stone sleep.

More mind games. More pain. More attempts for them to up my levels of adrenaline. More attempts for them to increase how effective my stone sleep was.

I woke from stone sleep. I was consumed from stone sleep.

In fact, that happened four times in succession. Not even organs were brought to me to serve as meals. Four days in complete isolation.

I was told that it only took 72 hours of complete sensory deprivation to develop permanent mental damage - Considering the fact it was pitch black, I thought 72 hours was an overestimation. The first few hours did me in.

By day two I was shrieking and banging my fists against the bars, BEGGING for something! Anything! I was sobbing and pleading for someone to come get me. It would be worth more pain if they'd just rescue me from this darkness! This was oblivion! I almost WANTED to be taken to the dunk tank or operating table - just so long as I could interact with something!

Matt once mentioned something about 'White Room Torture' a long time ago.

Now I fully grasped the concept. I was only able to tell how long I'd been in there by the number of times I erupted from stone sleep. I couldn't even carve tally marks on the ground to keep track, It's not like I'd be able to feel or see them. By day 3… or was it 4? No, two. Wait, five. I wasn't sure what were stone-sleep-nightmares and what were hallucinations anymore!

I had been pulling at my face and ears when I heard crawling. Yes, crawling. Around me, on me, inside me. Spiders, creatures, something! I madly stumbled around and screamed for nearly an hour before I went tunnel vision and passed out . It must have reset my senses, because only after regaining consciousness did I realize it was a hallucination.

But the voices the next day were real! I head voices, my voices, distant in every corner of the darkness. Wait, were they voices? No, they were written words. Yes, I may have been blind, but I could see them without my vision! Wait, was that sound even a language? I listened closer, slithering. A snake. No, a giant snake. LOUD ! 50 feet long or more! I Or was it even a snake!? For an instant I Thought it was a rabid wolf! No, suddenly I swore I heard a dozen rabid wolves! I grabbed the bars and sank my teeth in, I had tried to bite my way out! To escape! I wriggled and writhed through the bars until the skin had rubbed/ripped off my shoulders! But I couldn't get out! Then I thought they had gotten INTO my cage somehow! I had screamed in madness and frantically dashed around my tiny little kennel to dodge them! …Until I had bumped into all four corners in the span of 7 seconds.

…Only then did I realize I had been alone the entire time. I had hallucinated everything.

I was sure I felt spiders crawling all over me again. I thought my body had been stretching and contorting all on its own. A few hours, I thought the cage had been shrinking in on me. But without even a glimmer of light here in the abyss, I couldn't use my eyes to confirm my hallucinations were fake.

I spent the next 4 hours counting the bars by touch, just to feel sane.

I woke from stone sleep. I was consumed from stone sleep.

By day… I didn't even know anymore. I nearly CHEERED when I heard the rusty creek of the bunker door. The dim red lights of the hallway were practically blinding to me.

When my tray of body parts were kicked to me, I didn't even retch. I desperately clambered to all fours and snatched the tray from outside the bars and yanked it in. Flat on my belly I grabbed the first piece of organic sustenance I could get my hands on and tore to pieces before scarfing it down.

…It wasn't until I had finished swallowing the last of the entrails that I realized how naturally I had done it all.

I broke down and clutched my sides. I wanted to vomit it all back up, but I clamped my beak shut with both hands - I couldn't waste food. I sobbed for the next 9 hours until stone sleep came again.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

How was it every torture made me yearn for the opposite? The non-stop physical agony made me yearn for the mental torture. As soon I was drugged with tranquilizers and dragged out of my cage, I just screamed for the next four hours as they did unpracticed blood-letting on me; I wanted to be back in my cage. When I was thrown back into my cage for more isolation, I was banging on the bars and SCREAMING for them to come get me days later.

Today? Today was one of the days I wished I was in the abyss again.

I was in the operating room again, but I wasn't sprawled on my back for my routine, live dissections. When the anesthesiologist was not among the ranks of my usual surgeons, that's when I started to get scared.

I was strapped to the table on my stomach with my arms spread out to either side, my fingers splayed. I wasn't even 'strapped' down by fabric - even with what was quintuple the lethal dosage to a human and even without the solar power of stone sleep, the tranqs couldn't make me completely helpless, I had been strong enough to resist them - I was pinned beneath twenty metal bars that had to be drilled down to the table. It was enough to keep me down.

"Good Morning Brooklyn~" Calvert hummed.

I immediately recoiled and shivered. I tugged uselessly in my bindings and tried to sink away, much to his chuckling delight. I could hear the four heartbeat monitors next of me increase their tempo. I didn't respond to him, I closed my eyes.

If I closed my eyes, the scary monsters would go away.

"Yes, you heard me right: 'good morning'." he hummed. Pulling up a chair so he could sit directly in front of where my head faced. I still kept my eyes closed, my beak had been muzzled, so I couldn't bite him or anything.

"Come now, Brooklyn. You don't need to be so frightened. We've made GREAT progress thanks to you and all your help." he hummed "And we've just hit our FIRST benchmark! You've finally broken out of your biological clock's limiters!"

*W-What?"* I thought to myself. I tried to ignore the sound of the surgeons 'preparing' next to me. The pain was coming. I didn't want to know what it would look like this time though.

"We've kept you cut off from sunlight for so long and kept your active and passive cycles so alternated, that your body's internal clock has forgotten what time of day it is." Brannigan's voice chimed in, I could practically hear the smile on her face "You've stayed awake 5 hours past sunrise more than 4 times now! And you NEVER wake up with sunset anymore, you have a three hour window now as far as we can tell!"

"And your adrenal glands have almost tripled their production rate." Calvert said with a tap of his pen to me, making me flinch and shrink away "We've tried introducing additional glands to your body, but it seems your originals are MORE than sufficient! You really are such a polite and cooperative patient, aren't you~? I wish they were all as studious as you are~" he chuckled. "Look at your stitches, how well they've sealed. If you'd like to put a number to it - you're healing at nearly 560% the speed you were when you first arrived."

Brannigan's voice was now to the side of me. I got a sense of dread that made me bristle and whimper "Which means, we're finally ready to move onto the next stage of testings:"

Suddenly, I felt the individual locks over my fingers being pulled aside by one of the humans. My right hand's pinky was being isolated, but my remaining fingers were grouped together and pulled aside. I snapped my eyes open and barely managed to turn my head enough to see what was happening

My four hearts stopped "MMMMPHHHFFFF! MMMMMMFFFF!" I thrashed with muffled shrieks.

Branigan smiled chipperly down at me "Regenerating body parts~"

PLEASE. GOD. NO!

My eyes could barely turn far enough to see the electric bone saw brandished in one of the surgeon's hands! It whirred to life, a few tests of the trigger making the blade spin thrice.

I couldn't make a scream that was even intelligible.

"Oh I know, Brooklyn~ I know~ But that finger needs to come off~"

My beak ran wet with fresh tears, I tugged against the restraints until my skin peeled from the top of my wrists! The readjustment of the surgeons made me shriek bloody murder. Some were taking notes, one was video taping… and one lowered the buzzsaw

My beak managed to bend the bar muzzling me "NO DON'T! PLEASE! PLEASE!" I screamed DON'T CUT! DON'T CUT! DON'T-!"

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

0000oooo0000oooo0000

Two days in the abyss. I got used to what it felt like to have four fingers.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

A day in the freezer and then in 'The Oven'. I got to enjoy extreme temperatures until I got frostbite one hour and heat blisters the next. My lack of regular stone sleep made it impossible to track when I'd be brought next for more sessions. The constant meat wasn't enough to sustain me and without the sun, my main source of nourishment, there to fuel me… I felt death come closer with each stone sleep.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

They were thorough in verifying my obedience.

I was set free.

I was let out of my cage a week later. Free to walk from my bunker to the operating room without guard, chains, or a drop of narcotics in my blood. I was informed that I should be grateful for this special, once-in-a-lifetime treat… so special that none of the young donors would be there to see it. They were busy being held as collateral…

I debated running. So what if I had no idea how to get out? So what if I had no idea where it was? So what if an escape attempt was punished with hours of cattle prods? Wouldn't the 5 seconds of ignorant bliss to be gained in an escape attempt be worth the days of pain after? Well, I didn't get to enjoy that delusion. I was hobbled.

I dragged myself forward on the only leg that was still intact. The poison gas chamber from last night had caused my entire body to blister in places. They had tried to accelerate my regeneration trials by popping my shoulders from their sockets - all that did was turn both my limp arms a sickly black, purple as they dangled beside me.

I had lost too much blood… My ears pounded, my head was cracking itself open - I hadn't had a drink of clean water in…. I don't know how long. I collapsed before the double doors, I shakily raised a hand up, barely able to hold onto one of the handles. The world became blurry, the red light over "Authorized Personnel Only" began to drown everything out. My hand slowly slipped off and my intact knee gave out behind me.

I twisted as I slowly slipped down the wall, my clipped talons unable to root myself. I weakly looked up to the windows that looked into the black void of what awaited me. The distant crescendo of the guards' footsteps made me feel… I didn't even know anymore.

I just closed my eyes and hoped I'd pass out before they put the scalpel to me this time.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

The days went on.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

And on

0000oooo0000oooo0000

They strapped me to an iron chair and left me there.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

…

0000oooo0000oooo0000

….

….

….

….

….

….

"H-Hello? …..Is someone there?"

….

….

"...Goliath?"

…

…

…

…

Even with the burlap sac over my head, I swear I thought I heard him. I knew his gait. I knew his footsteps. I whimpered out "...Goliath? I-Is that you?"

"Goliath's not coming, Brooklyn~" Brannigan hummed, swiping off the thick black fabric. I squinted in pain at the industrial light overhead.

"H-He'll come…" I grippied the arm rests with my remaining seven fingers.

Those hyper-sanitized shoes of hers clicked over the tiled floor. Cockroaches scurried in all directions, moving to different pieces of viscera on the floor to wriggle into "It's been two months now, Brooklyn~" She noted "I think it's time to face facts~"

"Fuck you…." I wheezed.

"Oh come now, don't get all convicted now. Not with that hunger strike you seem to be on." she tutted, poking my arms "Look at you, you're practically skin and bones now."

My throat burned. I didn't even shuffle my feet away in disgust at the insects crawling over my digits.

"...why won't you just kill me?

"KILL you? Huh!" she seemed flabbergasted at the implication "And waste all the wondrous strides you've already made? You're responding so very well to the adrenaline therapy already! Your stone sleep can now cure things that would be permanently scarring to any other gargoyle!" she commended, circling me" Kill you?" she repeated "I'd have to throw you out and start fresh with another one of you! And none have such fine material as you~" she chuckled, slapping her hands onto my shoulders from behind.

"Please…"

"I'm not going to kill you Brooklyn, Well - not yet anyways-" she shrugged "Sure, once you're finished and your cells are able to regenerate instantly, then we'll harvest every single piece of you. Who knows? Perhaps we'll take in the rest of your friends for supplementary testing~"

I grit my teeth… I wouldn't justify that with a response

She giggled and I could hear her reach into her labcoat "After all…. There's plenty of new candidates to choose from in that growing family… For instance, Goliath and that NEW Beaked apprentice of his~"

My heartbeat throbbed in my ears.

"No….. N-No. He wouldn't…"

"You think?" Brannigan hissed in fake embarrassment "So… this ISN'T Goliath, then?"

She lowered a photograph into my vision.

My vision fluctuated and tunneled. My hearts stopped for three beats.

It was Goliath and Malibu. They were both sitting on a couch in the labyrinth's clan hideout. Malibu had pressed himself into Goliath's hulking frame, his beak happily flashing a toothy grin. Goliath had placed a fatherly hand onto his shoulder, pulling him close while giving a stoic smile for the camera.

"Hm, odd." Brannigan shrugged, flicking the photo "That jawline of his is usually a dead give away."

I lost the strength to keep my head up "...No…" staring at the floor

"I didn't want to show you that photo, Brooklyn, truly." she feigned sympathy "But, now you can stop holding out for a fantasy~ Let's put that focus of yours squarely on the here and now, hm~?"

No… It… It had to be a fake. A forgery. How would this freak even GET a photo like that? Why would it have been taken at all ? That couldn't have been Goliath! Nor could it have been Malibu! I caught a glimpse of the digital timestamp in orange lettering at the bottom corner '20 NOV 96'. That wasn't even a full week after I had ran away! There was no way Goliath would have just left me! He wouldn't have gone and cuddled up for a replacement member while I was missing! He wouldn't! Goliath… He… he would never. NEVER-

….. Replace me.

The generator behind me whirred to life. I had been too much in my own head to have even noticed Brannigan stepping away to turn it on "Now then, shall we get back to work~?"

She threw the switch and the jumper cables attaching the generator to my chair went electric. I screamed a static cry.

0000oooo0000oooo0000

…

…

…

When the abyss stared at me in my days of isolation, I stared back. But now… I let it consume me.

I had spent every night raking my mind for some rationalization over why Goliath had not come searching for me. Why no one had come searching for me. I had been captured plenty. Goliath had been captured plenty. All of us had been captured plenty, really… and we were always freed a night later, even sometimes the same night… And when Angela got hurt, *snort* he'd assemble an entire FORCE for her.

…But two days? Two weeks? Two Months?

I had gone over every possible rationalization in my head. I had played out every scenario from start to finish. But none of them made sense to me… The last time I saw Goliath, he had ripped my face open… the last words he ever spoke to me echoed in my mind: "You are unworthy of my love! You are unworthy of anyone's love!"

It was clear: no one was coming for me.

I laid on the floor of my cell, my stomach contorted in agony. It would have taken me much longer to accept it, even longer to go through with what I was doing… but…

My tray from two days ago was sitting outside the cage, a kidney, a malformed heart, and a chunk of a human's torso now had flies on it. Those piles of bloody viscera were the only things that kept me from going to that permanent, final darkness… But there was nothing left for me.

All I had to do… was nothing. Just stop fighting, stop eating… and eventually I'd be free.

I found a calmness in it, really. This was how my story ended - one of the last surviving members of a forgotten clan. They were lost to time and soon I would be too… a pathetic, yet deserved ending to the book of my life….. I was going to join the rest of my family.

*WHAM*

The bunker door slammed open again. Oh, they were not happy.

It made me smile. For the first time, I finally had some manner of power over them. They were right about one thing - I was too valuable. Once I starved myself to death, I'd be nothing but years of work and millions of dollars down the drain. They kept me perpetually at death's door here… but they hadn't counted on me opening that door all on my own. And seeing that their prized guinea pig was intent on suicide, they were furious.

"Brooklyn…" Calvert's voice came from the silhouetted lab coat in front of me. He had been accompanied with what looked like the entirety of the lab staff and half the security force. I barely had the motivation to give him a vacant stare, much less muster up the drive to sit up. "I will be reasonable with you one last time...are you going to continue this hunger strike?"

I had no snide comment… I wasn't in a humorous mood for my last days "...So what're you plannin' to do about it?" I mumbled, barely parting my lips "Stuff a feedin' tube down my throat? Without sunlight, that won't be enough to sustain me."

Calvert sighed, he made a gesture with his hand and the other scientists departed. I almost smirked "Go ahead… hurt me more… Torture me all you want… force me to comply and eat so you have your lab rat alive and well. There's nothing you can do to me that you haven't done a dozen times already."

"Oh no Brooklyn, we know everything about you through and through… we haven't even scratched the surface of the procedures yet…"

I heard a distant, high pitched commotion echoing distantly in the halls.

"Just remember. We tried to be reasonable with you at first."

The scuffle became louder. I heard screaming like a pig right before slaughter. One of the guards carried in a thrashing child. He had to be barely 8 years old; his body was normal and he was still in street clothes, it was like they had just picked him off the streets! The little baseball jersey he had looked like it had been freshly washed just this morning.

"No! No! No! Please! Mphhh! Nfff! Ghhr!" He hadn't been restrained and he frantically beat his little fists against the guard's helmet. It didn't do any good. He flailed and squirmed, unintelligible grunts and screams for help taking their place.

"Please let me go! Please let me go! I won't tell! I won't tell! Please!" he babbled. Before his words became too muddled with tears and snot to be coherent. He continued to shriek for help.

"NO!" I suddenly felt the first burst of energy in months. I scrambled to the edge and grabbed the bars with my remaining fingers "CALVERT NO! NO! OKAY! YOU WIN! YOU WIN! JUST LET HIM GO!"

"NOOOOOO!" the child sobbed as he was dragged to the ground and splayed out. He sucked in a choking heave between each bawl "MMMPHF! MMMMM!"

"Ngh! Ngh! AAHHHHHHH! Are y- No please, lemme go!" he thrashed. He arched his back and threw his shoulders side to side - but his little body couldn't force off the four full grown men pinning down all of his limbs "I WON'T TELL! I WON'T TELL! I WON'T! PLEASE!"

Brannigan loomed behind a fifth guard who brandished one of the larger surgical knives they used on me. My screams were almost as bad as the kid's! I stopped banging on the bars - instead, I grabbed one with both hands! I yanked back as hard as my boney arms could manage! I didn't even care that I could both feel and hear the seams of my latest surgical scars start to tear! Blood was spilling out through the stitches in my shoulders and sides. I was too weak, so I slapped my jaws over it instead! I bit down until my swollen gums were leaking red too! I shook viciously just TRYING to break my way out! Nothing was working!

The boy must have been screaming all the way here, because his sobs made it so his voice was barely above a croak "A-Are y-you you-u G-Gunna-" his little chest hyperventilating "H-Hurt m-me?" eyes locked on them, rather than me.

Brannigan's teeth smiled like a jester's "...yes~" she said with a nod

"NOOOOOOOO!" he screamed

Brannigan smiled "Our friend over there wants to eat you… you understand, right~?"

Everything went white in my vision. The Feral State exploded out of me "GRAAAAAAAAAOOOOOR!" I grabbed my left arm which had had extensive surgery done to it - I yanked and pulled! If I could rip off my arm and shoulder, maybe I'd be small enough to fit through the bars!

It was too late. The knife stabbed down into the kid's chest. His scream felt a million miles away. Then the sound went with him - they had hit a lung. Time slowed down. My strength vanished and all I could do was sink down in horror as he was disemboweled - alive.

His knees speared and kicked in the air in a final bolt of muscle control. His body tensed in frozen agony, unable to scream.

The thrashing ceased after only a few seconds, but the gurgles continued until they petered out into silence.

…

…

…

The silence hung in the air. Everything was frozen in place.

Calvert's mouth moved, but what words came out sounded like they were underwater to me. My ears were ringing, my jaw refused to close. I didn't regain feeling in my legs until the little corpse was dragged over to me and thrown against the bars, leaving behind a river of blood. I scrambled away, pressing into the opposite bars. My chest heaved in panic, my lips quivered to try and ask "...WHY?" but I was going into shock. I couldn't speak.

Calvert squatted down to give me an inhumanely empty stare, he cocked his head to the side with a sickening crack "Feel like eating now?"

Suddenly, the feral state couldn't stay on anymore. The pain of what I had done to my own arm and mouth was catching up to me. Tears ran from my beak, I tried to speak - what came out were muddled babbles. I couldn't form words.

"You think we'll only hurt you?" he said blankly "If you think you can take the coward's way out… we'll find others to pay the price tenfold. But since this was your first time trying this? We went easy, fortunately we just pulled that kid a few hours ago."

"You're going to suffer, no matter what Brooklyn~." Brannigan hummed "The question you need to ask though - how many OTHER people are you going to make suffer? Are you going to keep making us hurt more people because you're too selfi-"

Brannigan stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes widened in what looked like a sudden realization and her grin returned in force "YESSSSS!" she squealed in delight.

Calvert's own version of glee quickly exploded to match hers "FINALLY!"

They both rushed to the bars, but still out of what could have been within arms reach for me, if they were just an inch closer my claws would have been just close enough for me to swipe out their jugulars in a single…. My claws? I looked down. MY CLAWS!

I suddenly had the same epiphany they had. I had all ten fingers again.

They had all grown back? When!? HOW?! I had been getting a finger chopped off at the knuckle every other day now! They never gave me a hint of anesthesia because they insisted feeling the pain would up the adrenaline! I don't know WHY they thought that though… I had been in stone sleep a dozen times since the first amputation and there wasn't the slightest bit of 'regrowth' like they had hoped for.

But they were all here again! I flexed them just to ensure they were real. It wasn't possible, Just before they had come in, I had been feeling my hands in the darkness to feel the exposed bones. When I had grabbed my arm to try and rip it off I-

….I replayed what little I could remember in my head - a sickening revelation suddenly washed over me. That was it, that was when they had grown back. That meant-

"We have the answer!" Brannigan rejoiced, not turning her celebration to the spectating lab hands "The Feral State WAS the secret to triggering the next step in the stone-sleep evolution! We just didn't test all the different causes of the Feral State!"

Even Calvert's usually sickly stoic stare couldn't maintain its bearing "I knew Sevarius went into detail that a gargoyle's primary instinct was protection… but I didn't know it was THIS intense! Fear, pain, and especially anger can trigger it… but it seems to get the PUREST form of the state, then we need to-"

Brannigan matched his mullings "I guess we finally found the missing variable… in order for the regeneration to evolve… we have to trigger The Feral State through a very SPECIFIC stressor. The cameras were recording everything right?"

"Of course…" he said cooly "...Let us return and see it all from the beginning." before turning his attention back to me, I shuddered. "...but you, on the other hand, Brooklyn…" He stood up. A guard put his boot to the child's head and turned it to face me, the permanent convulsing terror of his final moments were etched into his face. I retched.

"Dinner Time." Brannigan said bluntly.

I trembled. No. There was no way they were this sick.

I physically couldn't say no - I only frantically shook my head between unintelligible whimpers. I refused.

"If you refuse… we'll go get another one. And we'll repeat this until you're on board." Calvert muttered, before snapping his fingers thrice "Now get to it, you have a lot of calories to get caught up on."

They left me. I prayed they'd close the door behind them and banish me to the pitch black I so hated - I didn't want to see him. But no… the red light from outside bathed the bunker in that scarlet. I crawled over to the…. Thing. I couldn't think of it as a kid, as a scared little chi- NO. It was a thing. Just a thing. Don't think about it Brooklyn, don't think about it..

I… I couldn't do this… I could be torn apart, lit on fire, drowned, drugged, electrocuted, suffocated, isolated, skinned, and dissected. I could handle all that… but this? I… I couldn't do it.

But what choice did I have? If I refused - if I refused ANYTHING - they'd keep killing more.

I couldn't bring myself to bite into those little arms or legs. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else. I tried to ignore the fact I'd gained the ability to tell the difference between an adult corpse and juvenile corpse. I kept my hands from touching any body part to try and now feel how small he was. My open jaws bit down into his mangled torso. My salty tears flooded and mixed with dark red blood "...I'm sorry…."

0000oooo0000oooo0000

I covered my ears and tried to block out the deafening recordings.

Hunched over in a 3x3 metal box. Unable to sit, unable to stand, unable to lay down - only squat until every muscle in your legs had cramped and spasmed til you were going insane! I had developed Tenosynovitis in both achilles - muscles fusing to bone - and it was as painful as it ankles waded in the 6-inch deep slurry of blood and guts they had poured on top of me.

The Box.

They put me in here for hours, blaring recordings of screaming children and that damn video of an actual toddler being killed. They had the volume on those speakers cranked up so loudly it made my head ring.

Usually I had to be drugged to be dragged in here - the first time they put me in it, I didn't know what it was and begrudgingly gotten in. The second time they tried to put me in a week later? I, in panicking terror, had slashed open the four guards who were assigned to control me.

But I couldn't refuse them. I couldn't fight them. Not anymore. They had found their leverage against me. I couldn't fight anymore….

I quivered and covered my ears as tight as I could, I hugged myself with my wings.

Count—count—count—count—the bullets in the bandoliers.

If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o' you!

I couldn't take it anymore.

(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up and down again) -

There's no discharge in the war!

Too much blood. Too much death. Too much pain.

We—can—stick—out-'unger, thirst, an' weariness,

But—not—not—not—not the chronic sight of 'em—

I'd give anything! Secrets! information! I'd betray everyone! I'd sell out my clan! I had screamed a dozen times that I'd give up Goliath to them for him to take my place!

Boot—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again,

An' there's no discharge in the war!

I'd give them anything! Anything for the pain to stop!

'Taint—so—bad—by—day because o' company,

But night—brings—long—strings—o' forty thousand million

But there was no knowledge or treachery I could barter with. There was only one thing they wanted from me: flesh. Chunks of it at a time.

Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again.
There's no discharge in the war!

I covered my ears and whimpered while rocking back and forth in the sludge of death.. The sounds of death. The scent of death. The sight of it. The TASTE of it.

I-'ave—marched—six—weeks in 'Ell an' certify

I-I wanted to go home. I just wanted to go! I wanted the monsters to go away! I…! I…! I wanted my mom!

It—is—not—fire—devils, dark, or anything,

I wanted to die.

But boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again,

Why wouldn't they just kill me?! Why couldn't I just die?

An' there's no discharge in the war!

But the answer had already been festering in my mind… I knew why. And you know what? It… It was kind of funny, really; hilarious actually! It made me laugh!

Try—try—try—try—to think of something different—

"Heh… Heheh…. Heheheheh. HEHEHEHE"

Oh—my—God—keep—me from going lunatic!

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! I burst out in a maniacal laughter as I clawed at the tears rolling down my face. I tried to contain the sobbing giddiness, but it just forced itself from my lips! I couldn't stop grinning through my quivering lips- I laughed until my stitched-up chest was in agony! "AHHHHH-HAHAHA!"

Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!

I finally knew, KNOW where I am. I finally know why I can't die.

There's no discharge in the war!

I'm in hell.

-TLDR-

Brooklyn is put through torture, surgeries, and experiments to increase his adrenaline output - doing so increases the effectiveness of his regeneration.

Brooklyn survives exclusively off human meat and body parts.

After being shown the picture of Malibu and Goliath from Chapter 5, Brooklyn is now convinced he has been replaced and left to die by Goliath (it is not clear HOW the scientists got said picture).

Brooklyn can now resist sunlight and put off stone sleep for a few hours.

Brooklyn's Feral State (when triggered through extreme methods) triggers the regeneration found in stone sleep. He is able to heal almost any wound instantly, including severed limbs.

After months of mental torture, Brooklyn has begun to lose his sanity.

Author's Notes:
So! Little fun fact about the author, I'm a SERE School Grad. And have a little experience and knowledge in this sorta thing (Minus the gore XD). Hence the reason I chose to play: /yGkyhaMdpto?si=OSJEGNYP_7NK5wha =57 If you want to hear what Brooklyn's listening to., listen from 0:57 to 2:30. 10/10 would recommend listening to it on loop for 3 days straight in a cement block.

But yeah... have fun with the mandatory "Brooklyn having just the worst time" chapter every Gargoyle Fanfic must have. There was some moderate gore in this chapter, so I wanted to give readers the option to skip over it - I definitely can get that people don't want to see a character they enjoy suffering. This chapter WAS going to be longer and have a few actually intense scenes, buuuuut I'm not a horror writer so I don't know all the little nuances and chose to skip them XD

But back to what IS in the chapter: Oh yeah... you all know where this is going. As some eagle-eyed commenters have stated "is it just me Or is Brooklyn slowly turning more and more into Jason todd?" or noticed the "Under The Red Hood" tag. Yup, y'all know where this is going. Been ITCHING to write this chapter for over a year so I could re-enact that one scene.

AND OH YEAH, I ALMOST FORGOT. Title Card drop! Yeah, the events in this chapter is where the cover-art in Chapter 1 comes from!