I cringed as the needle was pressed into my arm, however by now I hard - PDF document

I cringed as the needle was pressed into my arm, however by now I hardly even felt it. I lost track of how many days I had been here, I don 't even remember the last time I saw sunlight.... the only world that exists anymore is here in this lab were they pump me full of god knows what and in my dark cell where I wait alone for salvation I know will never come. As the clear fluid in the syringe makes its way through my veins I start to feel strange, other injections had made me sick or pass out but it only took me seconds to realize this was much different … --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ja mes Sloan woke up slowly as he lay on the floor in the middle of his cell. The room was roughly nine feet by twelve feet square with a thick metal door and a thick polycarbonate one - way mirror along one wall and a bed, small sink, mirror, and toilet along the other wall. The room looked like they had been taken the furnishings out of a prison cell and put them in an interrogation room. He really could not remember what had happened , but something felt off. He could kind of remember walking to wards his apartment after his evening classes at UW, but after that, everything just blacked out, interspersed with a few very hazy memories of some sort of operating room. Glancing down at himself, he saw that he was dressed in a standard medical gown. “Am I in a hospital?” he mumbled to himself. He started trying to stand up, but he was still too weak and slumped back to the floor. What the hell is wrong with me? James wondered. By now the slight bit of nausea he had felt when had woke up had returned and seemed to be getting worse. Clutching his stomach, James rolled onto his side, groaning in discomfort. Suddenly, a wave of pain swept through him. He gritted his teeth and waited for it to pass, but instead of fading, he could feel the pain steadily increasing. Just as he reached the point where he could stand it no more, he felt multiple bones in his body suddenly snap. James screamed in pain, but he barely had t ime to recover before he felt even more bones start to snap and move. It was also at that moment that he felt somewhat lesser pain in his fingertips, then a few seconds later, complete numbness. He was about to check what was happening, but at that moment, an even greater wave of pain hit him as his spine started to stretch , causing him to curl up even tighter, as if it would make the pain somehow more bearable . All it did was serve to make everything hurt even more, if that was even possible. Then, through the extreme pain, he noticed two things: the medical gown was starting to feel rather tight and a weird fuzzy feeling seemed to be spreading across his body. He finally decided to glance down at his hand, but when he saw what had happened, he nearly lost it. I nstead of his normal human hand, it was replaced with a paw - like appendage . It still had the normal amount of fingers and an opposable thumb, but also had claws where his fingernails should have been, pads along his palm and fingers, and thick grey an d blonde fur where his skin normally would be. Quickly glancing at the other hand, he saw that it had undergone the same change as well. Suddenly he felt the bones in his legs snap and lengthen. At about the same time, his skull sudd e nly cracked and snapped, causing him to clutch his head in pain. A salty taste in his mouth indicated he was bleeding, but he was not too sure as to why until he felt his teeth starting to lengthen and sharpen. He could also feel his face start to painfully s tretch and lengthen into something akin to a muzzle. Finally, after about another minute of excruciating pain, it was all over. Lying on the ground panting, James began to shakily take stock of what had changed. Besides the hands, he glanced down at his le gs, which he saw had shifted into a digitigrade position with his feet being replaced by canine - like paws covered in the same fur as his hands . It was also at that point that he realized he must have grown in size somewhat as the collar of the medical gown was starting to choke him. Clawing at the garment, he soon slipped out of it, allowing him to breath easier. Carefully getting to his feet, he glanced around the room and caught his reflection in the one - way mirror and let out a yelp . In the mirror finish , he was able to start making out details . His head looked like that of a wolf, complete with the muzzle, sharpened canine - like teeth, and triangular shaped ears on top of his head. The eyes, however, were still their original green color. Coating his body was a thick coat of grey fur with some blonde speckli ng, which helped to protect what little modesty was left . He had also grown about a foot, putting his height at around 7 ½ feet tall. Shocked, he started to back away from the mirror, but tripped and crashed to the floor. Whimpering, he crawled to the empty corner opposite of the door and window, where curled up into a ball, his tail wrapping around, quivering from fear and hoping it was all just a dream. On the other side of the window, four people sat docume nting the whole situation. Two of the people were dressed in lab coats, khakis, and polo shirts. The other two people were dressed i n black BDUs and carrying shor t - barreled 10 mm ARs . “Poor sod,” one of the guards muttered. “Just so long as the SOB doesn’t go crazy like the last one,” the othe r one grumbled, “I still haven’ t forgiven you sorry science pukes for what Six did to our guys.” “That was a tragic accid ent, Rud olf,” Dr. Maston replied, “We’ re very sorry for what happened and have taken measures to make sure that it does not happen again.” “Yeah, and yet you still keep bringing the s e things in,” Rudolf spat. He re - adjusted his grip on the rifle . Ever sin ce Subject Six had broken out of containment a week ago, Chief Holliday had ordered that all security pers onnel upgrade to at least 10 mm rounds. Some of the scientists had not been too happy about it, mostly because now the security teams could more than likely kill one of the werewolves before it made it even two feet, but some “creative” persuasion by Mr. Holliday had shut most of them up real quick. “So far, everything seems normal,” one of the scientists stated, her face only showing slight concern. “Is something bothering you, Dr. Timmer?” Dr. Maston asked. “Nothing really,” she replied shrugging, “It’s just that…something feels wrong, experimenting on people like this.” “Keep in mind the scientific progress that’ s being made here. Thanks to tests like this, our new diabetes treatments are reaching the trial phase months in advance. Think of all the other medical innovations that this could lead to.” “Right…” Rudolf grumbled. The other guard , Arnold, just glanced back at Subject Seven uneasily. “T hat thing can’t get out, right?” he asked nervously. Dr. Timmer looked from the guard to Subject Seven, who was still curled up in the corner, tears starting to run down his face. “Honestly, I don’t think we have to worry about that right now.” Dr. Timmer replied. After a few minutes, Dr. Maston suddenly turned to Timmer. “ Dr. Timmer , I need you to go in there to run a few tests. We need post - transformation data; see if anything may have gone wrong. Rudolf, A rnold , go with her. ” Dr. Timmer nearly fell out of her chair and both the security guards gave him looks of both shock and pure rage . “Are you serious? We are not even sure if - ” she began before Dr. Maston cut her off. “This is data we need, and besides, you said yourself he does not seem to be a dan ger to anyone,” Dr. Maston replied with a grin. James was just barely getting a handle on the situation when he heard several loud clunks as the locks on the door disengaged. He contemplated making a break for it as soon as the door was open, but those t houghts quickly died when the door swung in and three people walked in. One of the people, a woman, was dressed in a standard lab coat with khakis and a polo shirt, but it was the two other men in military uniforms and carrying what appeared to be short - ba rreled assault rifles that caused him to take pause. “W - W - What do you want?” James asked. It was then he noticed that all three of the humans were staring at him with apprehension. The notebook in the woman’s hands was shaking and the guards were holding their rifles in a death grip. The last one made him really hope that they calmed down, so h e did his best to try and look non - threatening. The woman suddenly cleared her throat. “James, my name is Dr. Alison Timmer. How’ re you doing today?” Dr. Timmer asked. James fear somewhat evaporated at the incredulity of the statement. Dr. Timmer must hav e noticed it as well, because her face turned several shades redder. “I’m sorry, that was a rather stupid question to ask.” “D - D - Don’t worry about it,” James replied, his voice still somewhat shaky. “Aside from the obvious, I woke up breathing, so it’ s a good day so far.” Dr. Timmer let out a nervous laugh. “Never quite heard it put that way before, but I guess that’ s a good sign, ” Dr. Timmer said. She then turned around and brought in a small cart loaded with different types of medical examination tools. James’ anxiety instantly shot back up. “What are those for?” he asked. “ Don’t worry James,” Dr. Timmer replied. “We just need to run a few standard medical checks, that ’ s all.” James continued to eye her warily as she picked up a blood pressure cuff, but a muffled click caused him to turn his attention to one of the guards, “Rudolf” according to the name patch on his vest. “Don’t even think about it,” Rudolf growled, shaking th e barrel slightly at James. “I wasn’t going to do anything,” James replied quickly. Rudolf just snorted and adjusted his grip on the rifle. As Dr. Timmer began to approach James, both guards brought their rifles to a low ready, but Dr. Timmer glared at th em. “Just relax, o kay. He’ s not going to try anything, are you James?” He shook his head slightly, trying not to make any big or sudden movements. He was not quite sure of his abilities, but he was rather sure that he could not recover from a shot to the head. He was kind of wrapped up in his thought so he jumped a bit when Dr. Timmer began putting the blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. “It’s alright, we’ re not going to hurt you,” Dr. Timmer said soothingly, but there was still a nervous edge to he r voice. “How did I get here?” James asked suddenly. Dr. Timmer looked up from her note - taking, her eyes widening slightly. “You mean…you don’ t remember?” she asked. James shook his head. “I mean, I can remember waking up in this room just fine and I ca n remember walking home from college , but everything in between then is just a blur.” Dr. Timmer seemed to mull it over for a minutes as she finished up a couple of other medical checks. “We found yo u wandering in the woods. You’ d been attacked by somethi ng, most likely a werewolf. You were taken to the hospital, but after we realized what you were infected with , you were moved to this facility.” Dr. Timmer said, looking away. James had the sneaking suspicion that he was being lied to, but he was not reall y in the position to argue. He would hopefully get some real answers soon. Digital copy of diary belonging to Test Subject 7 BioGen Fuller Mountain Secure Facility October 20, 2013 Start of entries October 4, 2013 One of the doctors here, Dr. Timmer I think is her name, gave me this journal today, said it might help in coping with what has happened. Personally, I have never really been one to keep a journal, so the whole idea seems kind of stupid. It is also kind of hard to write when you have hands the size of dinner plates. However she seemed to have good intentions , so I guess I will write in this for her benefit . Can’t wait to get out of here and go home. I also hope that I will turn back into a human soon as well. It has been two days and I am start ing to worry. October 6 Talk about a fucking bad day! The doctors came in to run some more tests, then they informed me that based on information they had , I should have changed back by now. Everything is indicating that I am stuck this way! Why the h ell did this have to happen to me!? Why did that werewolf have to attack me? This sucks! October 7 Well, I’m back. Still stuck in my “werewolf” form , which still sucks . Most of the doctors agree that I am probably stuck like this for the rest of my life. Th is is quite possibly the only time I have considered the “easy way out”. I probably sound like a whiner, and I am probably going to hate myself for thinking that tomorrow, but right now, I have just about had it with everything. At least the guards have st arted to get a little calmer, and by that I mean it does not look like they are going to blow my head off if I just reach up to scratch my nose. October 10 (Note - errors made in journal have been copied) Another day, another dollar (I wish). Everything has started to settle into a routine. They come in and feed me a coupl of times a day, do a quick medical check each time, then leaye me to my own devices for the rest of that time. Some of the doctors have strted stopping by to talk. Dr. Timmer even broug t by some cards and we played a few hands of poker. Chex Mix is not only delicious, but it also maks for great poker chips. O ct ober 12 (Note - errors made in journal have been copied) Soemthing is wrong. Whriting is starting to ghet dif icult I find mvself m akng mista kes andmissng letters. Te doctrs are getting whorried. what is ghonig on? (Major speech impediments noticed on this date by medical personnel.) October 15 (Note - some sections of the journal entry were completely illegible. Dot strings indicate t hese ) whr cnty writhes?.......docs nt hlp, sy chaht hlp. vvhy nt?……fvcnin mad ah ofher werevvlof…kil if i fin hm…….. (All subsequent entries were damaged when Subject Seven apparently lost control and ripped most of the pages out of the journal and flung t he table into the far wall. He seemed remorseful afterwards for his outbursts and even tried to piece the journal back together, but all visits from now on should be conducted with the utmost discretion. Speech nearly unintelligible at this point.) Octobe r 18 (Entry for this date consisted of just random scribbling. Speech reduced to barks, growls, and occasional broken words. Forming even basic sentences is now an extreme challenge that usually ends with Subject Seven becoming frustrated. All personnel are advised to vacate the cell immediately should this point be reached. Seven, while docile at times, can become incre dibly violent during these episodes.) After reading over the journal entries and other parts of the report a second time, project leader Dr. Blake Campbell looked up from his computer screen to look at Dr. Timmer . “So,” Dr. Campbell said as he leaned ba ck in his chair, “You’ re saying that with Subject Seven we have basically have an oversized pet dog?” Dr. Timmer shifted slightly. “W ell, not necessar ily. James - I mean Subject Seven does have very little in the way of vocabulary can barely write at all, b ut he still shows signs of intelligence ,” she responded. Dr. Campbell just nodded and glanced back at the report . “It also says here that his behavior has changed radically within the past few days. Care to elaborate?” Well, originally he was normal, then started seesawing between anger and depression, and now he just seems to be…innocent for lack of the better term.” “Huh? W hat exactly do you mean by ‘in n ocent’?” Dr. Campbell asked, making quote marks in the air. “He’s…trusting to a fault, I g uess,” Dr. Timmer replied. “He’ s somewhat leery of new people, but he usually tries to be friendly to them if given the chance .” Dr. Campbell just nodded. “Well, this i s an interesting deve lopment, but not quite what we’ re looking for. For all intents and purposes of the project, Subject Seven is just as much a failure as Subject Six was, albeit with much different results, what with Subject Six being all sociopathic and Subject Seven being freaking Rain Man.” He then turned his attention back to Dr. Timmer. “Be sur e to take note of any behavior changes that Subject Seven undergoes and make sure to dial back the dosage on Subject Eight.” “Sir, I - ” Dr. Timmer started, but Dr. Campbell cut her off. “Look, i f you have an issue with the program, the do or beckons, but so long as you’ re on company time, you have to play by our rules, got it?” “Yes sir.” Dr. Timmer replied deadpan. “Good, ” Dr. Campbell said cheerfully, “ now that we ha ve gotten that straightened out, w hat is the status on Subject Eight?” “ We have isolated three possible candidate s , but I - ” “Splendid, I will pass that information off to Dr. Maston. Thank you for your time, Dr. Timmer, you are free to go,” Dr. Campbell said hurriedly as he turned back to his computer , whistling “The Happy Wa nderer” . Dr. Timmer took that as a hint to leave and exited swiftly, making her way back to the holding cells . She really hoped that they could work out some of the problems still plaguing the project, because she hated seeing the failed tests ruining the patients’ life. She could only hope that Subject Eight fared better. It was getting awfully depressing to keep seeing peoples lives ruined because of this project. See soon found herself in the observation room of James’ cell. As she watched James walk aro und on all fours in his cell, she couldn’t h elp but feel responsible for his plight. She just hoped that they could find some way to help him. As if sensing her presence, James stopped for a minute and turned towards the window, his tail wagging slightly. With a small smile creeping onto her face, Dr. Timmer promised herself that no matter what happened, she would try to make sure that James made it through this, come h ell or high water.