#26
Progress cannot be made without sacrifices. But such .. sacrifices were tending to become much harder to find in Gotham. She had been driving for hours, peering into the darkest alleys slowly canvassing the neighborhood for someone alone, unaware that they were being sought for just such a sacrifice. She grimaced, pale bone-white hands gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Just a few more miles before she called this night a total loss and returned to the lab empty handed. Probably to scoffing and general mockery that at least HE had someone to experiment on.
Finally she came upon her quarry. Drunk, disoriented and most importantly; alone. A wide grin creeped across her pale features as she stopped the car.
“Are we having a lovely night?”
He looked at her blearily, too inebriated to appreciate the scorn in her voice. It was a pity he was so far gone. She rather enjoyed that moment of realization: eyes widening in terror, pathetic struggling, the moment where they lost all hope and realized their life was no longer their own. She shrugged, she would take who she could find, pressing ever forward in her research. A swift breath of nerve toxin later and he was safely contained in the trunk of her car.
She grunted as she dragged his unconscious body down to the lab. The Basement. Why did the lab always have to be in the basement? Couldn't they for once set up bunsen burners in the dining room? Sweating and panting she managed to haul him onto a table and secure the straps. She didn't turn as a slight laughter came from behind her.
“Don't laugh at me. You could have helped.”
“Your project.”
She turned and glared at the man sitting behind her. “Perhaps, but it benefits both of us.”
He merely smirked and bent back over his work. The woman strapped to the table behind him twitched and moaned, gabbering nonsense while he took careful notes and prepared another syringe. When he got into this meticulous stage of his research she could probably burn the lab down around him before he reacted, let alone notice her frustration. She glared at him anyway for good measure.
Turning back to her own work she noticed the first stages of consciousness as the man weakly opened his eyes. She ignored him and carefully unrolled IV tubing, starting to connect machines, pulling a vial of murky red liquid from a cabinet.
“How are you feeling #26? Alone? Scared?”
Sharply from behind her, “Stealing my line of questioning?”
“What? People are only scared when YOU strap them to tables?” Turning to #26. “You're scared arn't you? Because you don't know what I'm going to do. If you'll survive. See your family again. Provided you have one.”
“Fright.” The warning in his voice was unmistakable and she turned to see him scowling back at her. “Don't.”
She bit back her angry retort. Turning back to a visibly shaken #26 she grinned. “You're going to be an important component in my research 26. You're the fourth in a line of test subjects for regeneration. If you're lucky, this batch will be perfected and you won't die. On the other hand, you may prefer dying.” She gestured to #20 standing just within his line of vision. Another monstrosity of her own design, hands deformed into long claws, teeth jagged and hanging over his mouth, his eyes vacant from the lobotomy which guaranteed obedience.
26 screamed and struggled frantically. She paid no attention starting to connect him to various machines.
“Make him do that again.”
“Hmmm..?” She turned slightly. “Do what?”
“That scream. Make him do it again.”
She gestured 20 over to her side. “Go ahead 26, look at what your future is and scream again for the good doctor.” His screams deafeningly echoed off the stone walls and she winced.
“Hm. Quite lovely. Perhaps we should trade.”
“Oh no. She's been tainted with fear toxin. It completely invalidates any of my results. Plus, 'my project' remember?” She smirked.
He huffed and turned back to his work muttering something under his breath that was most likely uncomplimentary.
“Time for pain 26.” She patted him dismissively and inserted the IV into his arm harshly taping it into place to prevent movement during his struggles. His screams took on an entirely different tone as the serum pumped through his veins altering him at the genetic level. She grinned widely. Today was most certainly a good day for sacrifices.
Finally she came upon her quarry. Drunk, disoriented and most importantly; alone. A wide grin creeped across her pale features as she stopped the car.
“Are we having a lovely night?”
He looked at her blearily, too inebriated to appreciate the scorn in her voice. It was a pity he was so far gone. She rather enjoyed that moment of realization: eyes widening in terror, pathetic struggling, the moment where they lost all hope and realized their life was no longer their own. She shrugged, she would take who she could find, pressing ever forward in her research. A swift breath of nerve toxin later and he was safely contained in the trunk of her car.
She grunted as she dragged his unconscious body down to the lab. The Basement. Why did the lab always have to be in the basement? Couldn't they for once set up bunsen burners in the dining room? Sweating and panting she managed to haul him onto a table and secure the straps. She didn't turn as a slight laughter came from behind her.
“Don't laugh at me. You could have helped.”
“Your project.”
She turned and glared at the man sitting behind her. “Perhaps, but it benefits both of us.”
He merely smirked and bent back over his work. The woman strapped to the table behind him twitched and moaned, gabbering nonsense while he took careful notes and prepared another syringe. When he got into this meticulous stage of his research she could probably burn the lab down around him before he reacted, let alone notice her frustration. She glared at him anyway for good measure.
Turning back to her own work she noticed the first stages of consciousness as the man weakly opened his eyes. She ignored him and carefully unrolled IV tubing, starting to connect machines, pulling a vial of murky red liquid from a cabinet.
“How are you feeling #26? Alone? Scared?”
Sharply from behind her, “Stealing my line of questioning?”
“What? People are only scared when YOU strap them to tables?” Turning to #26. “You're scared arn't you? Because you don't know what I'm going to do. If you'll survive. See your family again. Provided you have one.”
“Fright.” The warning in his voice was unmistakable and she turned to see him scowling back at her. “Don't.”
She bit back her angry retort. Turning back to a visibly shaken #26 she grinned. “You're going to be an important component in my research 26. You're the fourth in a line of test subjects for regeneration. If you're lucky, this batch will be perfected and you won't die. On the other hand, you may prefer dying.” She gestured to #20 standing just within his line of vision. Another monstrosity of her own design, hands deformed into long claws, teeth jagged and hanging over his mouth, his eyes vacant from the lobotomy which guaranteed obedience.
26 screamed and struggled frantically. She paid no attention starting to connect him to various machines.
“Make him do that again.”
“Hmmm..?” She turned slightly. “Do what?”
“That scream. Make him do it again.”
She gestured 20 over to her side. “Go ahead 26, look at what your future is and scream again for the good doctor.” His screams deafeningly echoed off the stone walls and she winced.
“Hm. Quite lovely. Perhaps we should trade.”
“Oh no. She's been tainted with fear toxin. It completely invalidates any of my results. Plus, 'my project' remember?” She smirked.
He huffed and turned back to his work muttering something under his breath that was most likely uncomplimentary.
“Time for pain 26.” She patted him dismissively and inserted the IV into his arm harshly taping it into place to prevent movement during his struggles. His screams took on an entirely different tone as the serum pumped through his veins altering him at the genetic level. She grinned widely. Today was most certainly a good day for sacrifices.