[SIZE=1][B]July 1st, 2008. 7:22pm. Alkoli Lake, Alberta, Canada?[/B]
?Look at him. He?s magnificent!?
Deep within the Weapon X facility, a doctor and his senior technician watch over their latest project as he lingers in sedation, half naked inside a glass cylinder. The tube is filled with a viscous green liquid, saturated with anti-septics to prevent the severe lacerations inflicted upon him from becoming infected. Of course, they have all since healed. Wires inserted into his arms, legs and torso provide him with sufficient nutrients to encourage recovery, and a mask placed over his nose and mouth allow him to breath.
?What are his vital signs??
The technician shifted her chair over to a monitor displaying a physical read-out of the subject, along with four lines that all convulsed in differing patterns. She monitored the screen for a few moments.
?Heart beat is up to fifty-eight per minute. Blood pressure is one-twenty over eighty. Brain activity is increasing. I think he?s beginning to come around, Sir.?
??Sooner than we expected. Very well, contact division, have them ready the containment cell.?
?Right away Sir.?
The technician rose and shuffled away hastily, leaving Doctor Cornelius to muse over his creation. Truly, few would know of the marvels he had accomplished this day, and of those that did, even less would understand. Not only had he been able to harness the unbreakable alloy adamantium in its raw, liquid form, but he had then been able to secure a host capable of surviving the demanding task of grafting the metal to his very bones. He would receive no award this day, no recognition or praise, but he would die in the knowledge that he had just undertaken, and successfully completed the greatest experiment known to science. Next to this, space travel was mere child?s play.
Cornelius was startled from his day dream suddenly by a series of sharp, high pitched bleeps. An immediate cause for concern; that was the pitch designated to warn him that the subject?s brain activity had reached levels of consciousness. He took control of the slight panic that had shot through him upon hearing the sound, then bent over towards the comm. panel that was keyed directly to the facilities security force.
?This is a Code Blue, I repeat, Blue. Ready your men and get them to the test centre immediately.?
Cornelius flicked off the comm. unit and turned his eyes the circumference of the room. His transmission had attracted the attention of several technicians that had been going about their work, but had been noticeably startled by the command ?Code Blue?. However, once they found themselves under Doctor Cornelius? eye, they quickly recovered themselves and returned to work.
Cornelius turned back towards the subject, and took a step back. The panic that had startled him before had returned, amplified now to paralysing levels. Immediately his lip quivered weakly, and sweat began to form on the man?s brow. His mind raced, though no solution or practicality solidified itself. What he saw was inevitable and final. What he saw?
?Were the subject?s eyes staring back into his.
As the subject became apparent of his surroundings, he immediately drown in rage. He thrashed around inside the cylinder, ripping the wires from his arms and legs, causing his skin to tear and bleed profusely. A cry of pain, almost a howl, could be heard throughout the facility. The moment subsided; the subject forgot quickly about his already healing wounds, and turned his attention to his glass cage. He balled his fists, and started banging and kicking at the glass with his limbs. When glass meets adamantium, there simply is no contest. The glass first began splintering, then shattered altogether on one side.
The subject leapt from the plateau, planting both feet onto the floor. Shards of glass pierced the soles of his feet, but in his state of feral anger the subject barely noticed. His gaze was focused on the scientist before him. He didn?t know how, but he was sure this was the man who had but him through so much pain, such agony, and had turned him into an animal. He grabbed at the breath mask on his face, and yanked it off, breaking the strap around the back of his head. He threw the mask to the ground, and snarled at the man. Cornelius could only stare back in petrified silence.
The subject?s anger swelled; his eyes boiled over with fury. He erupted into a scream of pure hatred, and as he did so, six metal blades tore through the skin between his knuckles, gleaming against the lights, and drenched in blood. The subject?s scream quickly turned to a yelp, and he fell to his knees. He held up his hands in disbelief. They were stained with still pouring blood, and between his fingers were knives. Knives that had come out of his own skin. They had turned him in to a laboratory rat, an animal? and they had given their animal claws.
His fury reached peak levels as he entered a state of blood lust. He leapt from his knees and hurtled through the air towards Cornelius, driving his metal claws through the man?s chest as his momentum knocked them both to ground. There was a sharp crack as metal ripped through bone and muscle, then a gurgle as the lungs were punctured, and blood began to drown them. The last thing Cornelius saw on this world, as blood and mucus filled his throat and nose, was his creation?s face inches from his, screaming at him in rage.
The subject rose from his knees, planting his feet on the floor, then ripped his claws from Cornelius? torso before bracing them at his sides. He let out a snarl as his focus turned on the others in the room. Those who managed to achieve a moment of clarity were already making their way towards the only exit. The subject stalked through the room, as the slaughter of the entire technician team began. Metal tore through bone, punctured organs, tore through throats, gouged faces. The stench of death was pungent.
Within moments, there was but one figure left standing. As his mood subsided and he began to calm, an air of claustrophobia took him. He began to feel like the caged animal they had made him, and he thought now only of escape. Frantically, he leapt into a run, and bounded down the stairs of the exit and around the corner, into the cavernous passages of the Weapon X facility.
Alarms blared, panic and dread was everywhere, as the predator stalked through corridors and through doors, desperately searching for a way out. Like a cornered animal, he slashed and stabbed at anyone who got in his way, anyone who may hinder his escape. Bodies littered the passages behind him. He bounded along, blind to where he was going, when suddenly his keen nose caught the smell of oil. This was followed by a series of shuffles and clicks. Anyone could tell that sound, it was the sound of a gun cocking. He skidded to a halt near the end of a t-junction, falling to his back as he did so; his bare feet barely able to retain grip. He scrambled back to a crouched position, and pressed his weight up against the wall before the corner. He sniffed the air. There was a man just around the corner, his perspiration was very pungent.
As soon as the tip of the soldier?s rifle emerged around the corner, the subject sprang out, crouching low, driving his clawed fist deep into the guards gut. The guard keeled over, blood spurting from his mouth in a coughing cry. The other soldier across the way shot, and a tranquiliser round struck the subject in the shoulder. The subject studied the projectile for a moment, then swatted it from his arm. The soldier immediately began backing up, as he flicked on his radio.
?Commander, subject is in Corridor 314. Sedative rounds ineffective, sw--*transmission ends in several bullet shots, a harsh yelling, then screams, followed by utter silence*.
Commander Keyes and five armed men hurried through doors and along passageways in pursuit of the subject. They were disciplined and efficient, the only sound they made was the tapping of their heels on the tiled floors. Though, against some foes, even that is too much noise.
They came to a stop along an L-bend , and the lead man looked back to Keyes. He listened, and could hear the panting and tapping feet of the target as he made his way towards them. With a flick of his hand he gave the signal, and the lead unclipped two smoke grenades and tossed them around the corner. He heard a sharp ?puff? then a hiss, signalling that the grenades had activated. With another signal, four men moved elegantly around the corner into flanking formation, to eradicate the target. After the demise of Doctor Cornelius and the warning from Private Connors that sedative rounds were useless, Keyes had decided it was best simply to eradicate the target and minimise further collateral.
Keyes and his second in command waited patiently as the four guards moved into the corridor. Almost immediately thereafter he heard the sound of gunfire, mixed with snarls and howls. A lump began to appear in his throat as the firing slowly began to diminish, then cut out altogether. Flickers of smoke trailed around his feet, and around the corner he could hear the snarled breathing of the subject. His eyes met those of his subordinate, and though no words passed between them, there was a clear and definite understanding between them that they were in serious trouble.
Sergeant Marsh raised his rifle and took a step forward. Despite his levels of military training and discipline, he was noticeably tight and anxious. As his heel met the cold floor, the subject exploded around the corner with a snarl; his left claws tearing the rifle in half, while his right pierced the heart of the Sergeant and he drove him backwards into the wall. Blood oozed down the man?s chest as he collapsed to the floor, leaving a thick streak of blackened blood down the wall behind him. Keyes reacted instinctively, firing three rounds from his rifle into the subject?s sternum. There was a howl of pain as the subject dropped to one knee, but moments later sprang into a leap, taking him towards Keyes? position. The subject threw what was designed to be a punch, but with three metal spikes protruding from his knuckles, the act became decidedly more ugly. The blades ripped through the left eye, upper nose, and right cheek of Keyes, through his brain, and out the back of his cranium, spurting blood, mucus, and brain tissue. The concussive force of the punch shattered Keyes already ruptured nose, knocking him in an arch towards the floor as a corpse. Keyes body hit the floor limply, and the three bullets that had penetrated the subject also hit the floor, as the subjects recovery system removed them and closed the wounds.
The subject proceeded along the corridor, and he began to detect traces of pine in the air. The subject, realising he was nearing an exit, broke into the run along the corridor. The sound of running water soon followed, as the subject broke around a corner and was greeted by a fire exit. He kicked the door through and leapt out into the open air. Immediately he began to shudder as the cold bit at his flesh. The subject found himself standing ankle deep in show, with Alkoli Lake to his immediate right, the foreground setting for a small mountain range, behind which the sun was setting. To his left were the fringes of some woodland.
For the first time the subject raised his hands and examined the weapons coming out of his hands. They, along with his hands, were stained with dried blood. He immediately found it odd that he could actually feel the claws, and that they seemed to have the sensation of touch, as if they were part of him, and not some foreign matter. Dismissing this, and with the majority of his anger having subsided, he, with some effort, managed to retract the claws back into his arms. He watched as the slits they had come out of sealed in a matter of seconds.
The subject examined his surroundings, hoping to find a road or path. With no clue as to his position or bearings, his best option was to find a road and let that take him to some form of civilisation. He was surprised to find that almost the entire facility he had just escaped from was underground. On the surface were the broken remains of what appeared to be an old military camp or training facility. There was no sign of any road or access path, which unnerved the subject somewhat. His keen ears picked up activity coming from back inside the facility. In a panic, he took off into the woodland. Wearing nothing but a ragged pair of shorts, he headed off, in freezing cold weather, into a forest as the sun was setting. This night was going to be a very long one for the subject, who had no real clue as to where he was, or where he was actually heading.[/SIZE]