Part Six

I open my eyes to a sea of blackness.

Oh my gods, I'm blind!

I blink a few times and outlines of shadows become visible.

Oh, heh heh, guess I was wrong.

I'm in a cell of some kind, lying on a cot. I can see the shadowed outlines of a chair, toilet, sink and another cot that has someone lying on it.

Could it be...?

I roll off of the cot, landing painfully with a thud. It takes a few tries for me to struggle to my feet and stumble over to the figure.

I fall to my knees with a soft grunt by the opposite cot and rest one of my hands on the muscular shoulder of the occupant. Leaning close to see who it is in the darkness, I find, from how the shadows fall across his face, that my cell mate is indeed Raphael.

Before I get the chance to breath a sigh of relief, I notice something wrong. The skin under my hand is cold and didn't feel alive at all.

With a feeling of dread, I slide my hand over to his neck to feel for a pulse.

There isn't one.

"No," I adjust my hand a bit, maybe I just had my hand in the wrong place. That has to be it.

There's still no pulse.

"No...no! Raph! Raph, wake up!"

I take him by the shoulders and shake him violently. There's no response.

"WAKE UP, DAMN YOU!" I scream, shaking him with all of my strength and ignoring the searing waves of agony that crash through my body. All of this is to no avail, for he does not respond.

He's dead.

This realization hits me hard. I let him fall back onto the cot from my nerveless hands before I collapse onto his chest in a fit of hopeless, devastated tears.

Once I cry my tears away, I slowly sit up and wipe tear-dampened strands of hair from my face. I look at his shadowed face sorrowfully, and gently place on last kiss on his lips. I then find something that feels like some sort of sheet and cover Raph's body with it.

I sit back on my heels and bow my head. As I rest my hands limply on my lap, I realize that the backs of my wrists are bleeding and extremely painful. I don't care.

I just can't believe Raph's dead. They'll pay for this. They will all die slow, painful deaths.

The cell is suddenly filled with blinding white light. Though the light is shocking, and my eyes are struggling to adjust, I deny my tormentors the pleasure of seeing me flinch.

When my eyes clear, I notice, for the first time since waking up, that I'm wearing a set of cheap scrubs.

There's the sound of a door opening and I look up slowly, menacingly.

Two soldiers, each carrying a pole with a loop of some kind on the end of it, inch their way in. The younger of the two looks nervously at me, and then to Raph. The other, about four years the senior of his partner, watches me with experienced eyes.

I make no moves whatsoever. I just sit there, still as death, not even batting an eyelash.

The kid makes a move for Raph, and I leap to my feet, clenching my fists and fixing my glare on him. He stops dead in his tracks.

My wrists and hands throb painfully. I ignore them.

As soon as I turn my eyes to the younger man, the older one lunges at me and snags my neck with the loop at the end. I scream in rage as he tightens the rope around my neck. He then yanks back on to pole, making me stumble.

My hands fly to my neck to loosen the strangling rope. I go rigid and my hands are yanked away from my neck as currents of electricity are sent through my body through the collar on a stick.

Any thoughts that might have been running around in my head are scared off as twin blossoms of fiery pain bloom on the backs of my wrists. Diamond sharp claws of bone the length of my forearms had burst from my wrists in a shower of crimson blood.

As soon as I see these new weapons protruding from my body, a veil matching the blood covering them drops over my vision.

The fear widened the eyes of the guard detaining me are the last things I consciously register before letting ferociously lose with my claws on everything within reach.

 

"She's regaining consciousness," the voice cuts through the fog.

"Ugh..." I answer intelligently as I open my eyes.

"Welcome back," a different voice sneers.

"Screw you," I murmur, letting my chin drop to my chest. I'm bound to a wheel chair, my hands behind my back.

"You're proving to be quite the conversationalist," the sneerer observes. This scientist is a skinny geek, and he has a mouth that's gonna get him in trouble.

"Considering the company, I think my comments are quite fitting," I shoot right back.

The geek stalks over to me and rudely, not to mention painfully, shoves a needle into my arm to draw blood.

The female scientist glares at him. She's pretty, with an average build, short blond hair, and kind blue eyes. If I wasn't in the position I am now, I think I could get to like her.

"Fred, once you're done drawing that blood, take that sample to the lab," she tells him coldly.

He gives her a dirty look.

"Oh, and what are you gonna do with her while I'm gone?" he asks, his tone implying an answer of an explicitly sexual nature.

With that, he pulls the needle out of my arm and looks at it in surprise. The tip of the needle is completely gone and the rest that was in the vein is visibly weakened. Geekoid turns his gaze from the needle to me with fear in his eyes. He seems to freeze when my eyes meet his.

The as-of-yet-unnamed woman scientist reacts to the state of the needle with shock, freezing briefly before pressing a gauze pad to my bleeding arm.

I grin wickedly as he turns tail and runs. I look at the remaining scientist.

"So, was it just me, or did that jerk think you were going to rape me?" I finally ask.

She nods. "Yes, he did. Probably still does." She rolls her eyes as she tapes the pad to my arm.

I raise an eyebrow. "Why would he think that?" I narrow my eyes, an unconscious warning of anger. "You better not try."

She shakes her head. "Don't worry, I won't. I prefer my partners willing and uninjured."

I breathe an internal sigh of relief. I really don't need anything else rammed up into me, and I don't know how this woman's mind works when it comes to these matters. "Then why did he think you'd rape me?"

"Because he found out I'm a lesbian," she answers with a shrug.

"Ah," I nod and pause. "So...uh...you're just here to baby-sit me?"

She shakes her head. "As a matter of fact, I'm supposed to interview you."

"Ok...then is the whole bondage bit really necessary?"

"That depends..."

"On what...?"

"Are you going to try to kill me?"

I shake my head.

"Good. Are you going to unsheathe those...claws?"

I shake my head again.

"Are you going to try to escape?"

"That I can't guarantee."

"Then I can't set you free."

I growl softly, and she backs up slightly.

"I'm sorry. If I could set you free, I would, but if you try to escape the facility no one knows what will happen."

"Fine," I snap. "Then I won't answer any of your questions."

She grins wryly. "Yeah, like you were going to answer them honestly to begin with."

I sigh softly. "I'm that easy to read?"

"I've got good instincts," she answers simply.

I sigh again. "I'm not going to reduce myself to begging, but I want you to think about what it's like to be nothing more than just another lab rat."

Before she can reply, a pair of guards and Fred the Geek show up at the door.

"Your time with her is over, Angela," the Geek spits. "Now it's my turn."

Angela glowers at Fred before standing and resting a hand on my shoulder. " Good luck," she whispers softly before leaving me in the all too eager hands of Fred the Geek from Hell.

 

I look at ol' Freddie and keep myself from gagging. Barely.

He comes over to me and stalks around me with a predatory look in his eyes. He creeps around front, bends over to look at me eye to eye. He takes my chin and roughly tilts my head up. I can smell his reeking breath.

"Little freak, you shouldn't even be alive with all those chemicals in your blood."

"It's a wonder I'm alive with all this bad breath in my face."

He scowls and shoves my head back hard enough to bang it on the back of the chair.

"Ow..."

Man, I REALLY wanna rip this guy a new one...

"Now...let's see what your pain tolerance is," Fred mutters as he fixes up some sort of mean looking machinery.

I get the feeling I don't want to know what that shit does. Lessee if I can unsheathe these claw thingies...

Clenching my fists behind my back, I try to figure out how the things came out in the first place.

Just then, Freddie the Geekboy turns to me with a sadistic grin on his face. He's holding electrodes in his hand and looking at my shirt with altogether too much enthusiasm.

Not tonight, pal.

I feel that familiar pain blossoming from my wrists and I finally snap the bonds with my new claws. I grin at Freddie as he leaps back away from me.

There's no time for me to do anything to the geeky one because almost as soon as I snapped the bonds, the two guards were lunging for me.

I throw myself out of their way, slamming a claw through one of the guards' hands, and sending him screaming to the floor.

Fred is long gone, as is the other guard.

Shit, probably to spread the word that the friendly neighborhood moron is loose. Damnit to hell. Oh well, I've gotta find out who killed Raph.

I leave the room and start down the hallway, sticking to the shadows as much as I possibly can.

First, I have to get out of here, and then I have to figure out what happened. THEN I have to figure out what to DO about it.

My thoughts are interrupted as I hear footsteps running down the hallway around the curve. I look madly around for a hiding spot, and dive into a laundry shoot that's just a few feet away.

I can't hear the guards as they thunder by the shoot I'm hurling down. It reminds me of some kind of warped amusement park ride, and I'm glad for once that I'm as small as I am. If I were bigger, I'd get stuck, and then I'd really be screwed.

Abruptly, I no longer feel the walls of the shoot rushing by me, and I plummet into a pile of soiled sheets and scrubs. I try not to think of what made the sickening "squish" sound I hear when I land.

If I get out of this, I'm going to take a nice LONG bath AND shower.

I climb out of the gurney and look around. I'm, predictably enough, in the laundry room, surrounded by gurneys of dirty laundry waiting to be washed. Most of them have huge biohazard signs on their sides that I can see even in the semi-darkness.

Oh man, healing factor, don't fail me now.

I don't feel blood dripping from my hands anymore, so that's a good thing. Over the progression of the past few days, though, I've been injected with enough chemicals to wipe out an entire herd of wooly mammoths, so that can seriously fuck things up in my body.

I shake my head and look around for a possible escape rout from the building. I'm willing to take any way I can out of this place short of flushing myself down the toilet. That could be messy.

I look along the walls and I spot a vent up by the ceiling just big enough for me to squeeze through. I look down at my claws, and then up to the vent.

Lessee what these babies can do.

I make my way to the wall, brush all thoughts about how stupid this will look, and throw myself at it.

I plunge my claw into the wall, pull myself up, thrust my other claw into the wall, and so on, climbing until I'm close enough to the vent to knock it in and pull myself up into it.

As soon as I'm completely in, I collapse, the seemingly omnipresent pain that I've been ignore becoming too much. After a moment, I hear someone opening the door to the laundry room. I take the cover and put it over the open space.

Dammit, I am NOT getting caught by these clowns ever again! Once I get the guys, we'll come back and avenge Raph. Raph...oh gods...

I hold back tears as I make my way through the air system. After about two hours, I finally find a room safe enough for me to drop into. The room is actually a darkened garage.

When I finally drop to the floor, I become aware of three presences just before something blunt smashes unexpectedly into my temple. There's a flare of pain, and darkness consumes me.

Moron Story Index
Part Five
Part Seven