Night 57: Disciplinary Therapy Room 4 [M-U for Michelangelo]
Preparation had taken longer than usual with this one, but he was confident that the results would be worth it. He could already feel the tingle of excitement, a build up toward achieving great things, as he entered the room. The stainless steel of the table gleamed in the light, making the sill form strapped to it seem smaller, almost insignificant despite the wealth of data that could be mined from his body.
The doctor crossed to the table slowly, taking a moment to check the steel bands and cuffs that bound the man in place before turning his attention to the tools laid out nearby. Some were simply for show, reminders of other, similar situations the creature had been in before. Times when he was younger and more naive. But the harshness of his reality had changed that, just as this time together would change him again, turn him into something new.
He hoped it would also be something better, but that was the nature of true science. It wasn't only about success; even failure could produce interesting and significant results. Success would be nice to achieve, especially with a subject of such limited availability as this one was, but it wasn't entirely necessary.
Perhaps he was starting to turn sentimental, the doctor mused as he waited for the subject to awaken. He was starting to hope more of them survived these procedures instead of the strict 'any data is good data' belief he'd maintained before. Perhaps a vacation was in order? He'd need to think on it further.
But not now. Now, there was the shining steel table and the harsh lighting shining down on the subject, the table of tools waiting just within eye sight from the table, and his subject beginning to wake.
"Time to begin."
The doctor crossed to the table slowly, taking a moment to check the steel bands and cuffs that bound the man in place before turning his attention to the tools laid out nearby. Some were simply for show, reminders of other, similar situations the creature had been in before. Times when he was younger and more naive. But the harshness of his reality had changed that, just as this time together would change him again, turn him into something new.
He hoped it would also be something better, but that was the nature of true science. It wasn't only about success; even failure could produce interesting and significant results. Success would be nice to achieve, especially with a subject of such limited availability as this one was, but it wasn't entirely necessary.
Perhaps he was starting to turn sentimental, the doctor mused as he waited for the subject to awaken. He was starting to hope more of them survived these procedures instead of the strict 'any data is good data' belief he'd maintained before. Perhaps a vacation was in order? He'd need to think on it further.
But not now. Now, there was the shining steel table and the harsh lighting shining down on the subject, the table of tools waiting just within eye sight from the table, and his subject beginning to wake.
"Time to begin."