- Mon Feb 12, 2018 9:29 am
Recording 1 - 12.4.3
Female voice: Re-education of M-135 under protocol eighteen. Please bring him in.
*door opening and closing*
*shuffling and chair scraping across the floor*
Female voice: Good morning M-135. Are you ready?
M-135: N-No! I don’t want to do that, dammit.
Female voice: Why are you unwilling to do as I ask?
M-135: I don’t want to hurt people anymore.
Female voice: But that is what we are trying to prevent. People from getting hurt.
M-135: You want me to fight the others!
Female voice: To test your abilities. So why are you unwilling to train?
M-135: It’s not training! You want me to-
Female voice: -28 please.
*cackle of a live wire*
*M-135’s clenched screams*
Female voice: Let’s start again. M-135, are you ready?
M-135: P-Please… Stop… I don-
Female voice: M-28.
*more static and screams echo*
Female voice: Are you ready?
Female voice: Yes, what?
M-135: Yes, ma’am.
*a delighted female giggle escapes, too young for the woman speaking*
Unknown girl: See! I told you I could do it, doctor!
Doctor: Yes. You’re my best assistant and my good girl, M-28.
*another delighted giggle and shuffling against the recorder*
Recording 2 - 12.4.14
Female voice: Due to the developed complications in subject M-135 we are testing further viability of his continued work or his termination within the project. Please bring him in.
*door opens and shuts*
M-135: Hello doctor.
Doctor: Now with your developed blindness you have said you have experienced some changes?
M-135: Yes. I can hear no less than two blocks away, scent everything in a room as well as lingering smells. There is a distinct strange seeing aspect that is more of a sensation of figures than actual sight.
Doctor: I see. So we’ll begin with you hearing. What can you hear right now?
M-135: The air pressure through the door. The assistants in the other room. They don’t believe that I could hear that far. Now their hearts are racing because of that.
Doctor: Impressive -135. What can you smell?
M-135: The dust of the air system, the cleaner used in here. Someone bled in here? You had tandoori chicken last night and just coffee for breakfast. Orange toothpaste…
Doctor: *chuckle* Well then. I’m guessing your ability to taste is very similar to your ability to smell?
M-135: Yes, doctor.
Doctor: And from your ability to walk in here and find your own seat without assistance I am guessing something else is going on as well. Is that just your senses? Can you describe how you knew where the chair was?
M-135: Because I can see. In a way, at least. The world is more amorphous but everything makes sound. It’s like seeing plasma. It moves and when it does it makes sounds that makes a picture. It’s like plasma radar but in my mind. I have to act more blind than I really am.
Doctor: We will have to further test this then. I will schedule an assessment with some of the others.
M-135: Doctor, please. I don’t want to fight-
Doctor: -135. What have I told you before?
M-135: I- ...Yes, doctor. I’m sorry, doctor.
Doctor: Of course. You’re dismissed.
Recording 3 - 12.4.19
The screen opened to a blackness that shook. A hand moved away from the lense after adjusting the camera to the proper angle.
”Subject: M-135. Test eleven: full body healing factor. No anesthesia,” the male voice listed as he moved away from the view revealing the subject behind him. The dark haired man stared wildly but blankly into the space in front of him, eyes darting in panic. He was gagged with a mouth guard and wore only plain scrub pants. His arms, hips, throat, and legs were restrained to the stainless steel table that had been tilted to 140 degrees. There was a small grated drain directly under him, the set-up more akin to a horror movie set than a recorded examination.
The stark white room around him was otherwise unrecognizable as were the few people in blue scrubs that wandered in and out of frame. A few agonizing moments passed of preparation movement before one of the doctor’s moved to the subject. A flash of silver then set to the man’s chest, red blooming and running freely down his pale skin with little more than a hiss from the subject. The doctors moved methodically and clearly, watching and narrating as the healing happened. ”Regeneration within moments. Shallow cuts ineffective. Deeper lacerations and stents required,” a female voice ordered.
They repeated this method on his chest, cutting and allowing it to heal before moving to cut his chest in a decisive Y and begin the process of peeling the flesh back from the muscle and bone. The subject shook, keening and wailing through the mouth guard as they pinned the flesh back. Another pause of movement from most of the doctors as the lead doctor prodded at the exposed muscle before severing it completely. ”Musculature regeneration slower than dermis,” she commented, before trimming off a ligament and watching his shoulder go completely slack. The subject thrashed, roaring in rage and agony.
Gloved fingers prodded the wound, ignoring the cries of her subject. ”Complex connective tissue shows signs of regeneration at reduced rate. Unclear if due to energy diverted to other wounds or based on structural complications. Please make note to test with minute incision at a later date. Potential laser cutting may be more effective in tests,” she continued, pressing harder on the detached ligament causing the arm to shake and spasm compulsively and the ma’s shriek to pitch higher.
With a nod, the doctor stepped back and two others stepped forward. There was a crunching and a snap that echoed off the white walls. Red rushed down and into the drain suddenly. The doctor stepped back laying the breastplate off to the side giving the camera a clear view of the subject’s organs as they struggled to keep him alive through the pain and shock. His heart was beating too rapidly, squeezing and jumping in the hollowed cavity, lungs working rapidly as the man sobbed. For a moment no one did anything but stare at the functioning body in front of them then with a flurry of movement the experiments started once more.
They started by watching for the beginnings of bone reformation before moving on to organ injury and regeneration of redundant organs then the more vital ones. The blind man’s roars, screams, and keens grew sharper and higher until there was an eerie silence. ”Doctor! Signs of warning arrhythmia,” one of them shouted suddenly. The subject’s body started to shake suddenly, thrashing in a shock induced seizure as the medical team worked on replacing the internals they had taken out and close him up. The main doctor watched with a detached interest holding up her hand to stop the others as they rushed to help him.
”Wait. I have a theory I need to test,” she said simply as she watched the heart monitor jump rapidly before flat lining, ”Alright. Get him back.” The team rushed in then throwing the table back and setting to CPR and resuscitating the mutant’s dead body. The first blip of the heart monitor was chased by an unholy roar of rage, the table shaking with the rage of the creature.
A doctor approached the camera fiddling with it. ”Healing factor testing deemed successful. Best results seen post-revival, near complete system restart,” she narrated before cutting the video.
Recording 4 - 12.4.28
A flash of white caused the lense to blur before focusing, a window showed the reflection of the camera and its light along with the reflection of the middle-aged woman manning it before the light was switched off. The camera focused again to the other side of the window then showcasing a stark white room. It was meticulously clean and white except for the converted cubical dividers that had been folded and pushed to the side. Off-grey markers were taped to the floor, walls, and even ceiling denoting meters throughout the room but beyond that the room remained empty. There were movements in the background as they adjusted the camera a bit more before the woman spoke.
”Combat test of Subjects M-28 and M-135. Testing for full compliance of M-28. Final combat readiness test of M-135,” she dictated, ”Escort them in.”
The door to the right opened and two people were led in before the assistants left that guided them exited quickly. A small woman with her blonde hair neatly braided down the back of her scrubs stood with her back to the door, facing the wall and refusing to move. Her body was locked in eerie, impossible stillness as her blue eyes glared at the wall she faced. The other person, a tall man with a blank gaze, stood where the assistant had stopped him. His head moved in jerky bird-like as he seemed to be listening for something that wasn’t there.
”M-28. M-135. You may begin,” the woman’s voice said over the intercom in the room.
Neither moved for a moment then in a burst the man lunged for the woman, blurring on the video. The fight was chaotic a mess of blurred movements between the two thrashing forms streaking across the camera in gold and brown, limbs, and lightning. Soft cries of annoyance and answering roars of rage punctuated the chaos. The woman flew then, bouncing of the wall with a definite crack. The man pounced on her stunned body before she could move, fists coming down on her with another wet crack. A red spray hit the wall in a backswing from the man’s fist and bright white flash blinded the camera. 135 slammed into the opposite wall, body convulsing violently from the shock. 28 scrambled to her feet, wiping the blood from her broken nose before realigning it, baring her teeth in pure rage. She aggressed on the convulsing male then hesitated as some strange emotion (perhaps realization?) crossed her features. She lifted her head then, looking up at the reflective window, bloody and forlorn.
”Do it, M-28,” the order came over the intercom.
The blonde’s head shook as she refused and trembling started in her hands. Her body didn’t move beyond looking at the man on the floor as his chest rose and fell in ragged pants. He tried to move but his body seemed completely rewired from the harsh shock, causing his limbs to jerk uselessly and flop about like fish. ”...Lightning bug,” he finally managed the whisper, ”L-Lightning bug, please.” -28 hesitated again, stumbling a step back from the pleas. An annoyed huff and grit of teeth sounded behind the camera.
”M-28. Be a good girl. Kill him.”
The blonde’s head jerked at the order this time, twitching and jerking to the side as emotion drained from her face leaving her empty, bloody, and pale. Robotic movements took her to the near-paralyzed man as he continued to struggle with his limbs. Desperate keens and pleas picked up at her approach until she was kneeling next to him, unaffected by his begging. She placed her palm over his heart slowly, staring down at him silently. Another bright white flash covered the camera, warping the picture into bleary-haloed shadow images. The sound staticed loudly, screeching briefly before complete silence cut through.
The picture didn’t focus again. Blurred half images and low swearing as someone fidgeted with it for a moment, trying to fix it before giving up on the endeavour. With another sigh, the camera stopped moving. ”M-28 compliance testing successful. M-135 terminated.”
The camera clicked off.