Snippet #5903

Green

The light sent daggers of pain into his eyes; it was inescapable, and unwanted. He closed his eyes, finding great difficulty in doing so. And when he finally succeeded, it was in vain - the lights continued to assail his eyes mercilessly.

An almost absolute numbness permeated his body; he could barely feel his limbs, and they hardly reacted to his mental commands. He concentrated on his fingers, and even found great difficulty in moving them; he couldn't even be certain if they had actually moved at all. How long had he been like this?

Enough. Letting out a reverberating howl of anger and frustration, the Bouncer ordered his four limbs to crunch. Something cracked, and the Bouncer found himself upright on his feet.

He took a moment to survey his surroundings; the room was impossibly white, glaringly so, as his eyes struggled to adapt. He glanced upwards, through his upper portholes, and cursed with all his heart at the creator of those ceiling lights. If there were any figures in the room, he could not see.

He moved forwards, only to find himself sinking into the ground; he couldn't feel that his own legs needed adjusting too. Grunting, he concentrated on setting himself upright, a task he found most difficult, when controlling his limbs felt like grasping at clouds. He glanced at his lower body via his lower portholes, and mentally clenched his jaw.

It took every ounce of his concentration to move one leg forward, planting it firmly onto the ground, and repeating with the other leg methodically; each step booming with resounding echoes, disturbing the settled dust that had found their way into the cracks of the ceilings and walls. He moaned long and deep each time he took a step; the concentration was rather taxing.

Soon however, he got a feel for it; more practice, he knew he needed. He fumbled around a table as he practised maintaining his balance, and unwittingly hit the switch of an Accu-Vox audio diary.

:: click! Whirrrrrrrrr....... ::

[A deep monstrous howl greets the beginning of the diary.]

(Male voice 1, sounding unnervingly... casual) So, Lee... enjoyin' our hospitality? [Another howl.]

Yea, yea I know. 'Tis grand, innit? [A power drill starts, and it digs into something metallic. Another howl, louder than before, follows.]

(Male voice 2, alarmed) Boss, them straps ain't gonna hold!!

(Male voice 1, still casual) Sure it will. Whoop! Nearly forgot th' next dose.
[The sound of a syringe is picked up, and the sickly sound of it penetrating flesh could be heard. The suckling sound of liquids follows. The howls quieten, and one could hear intense struggling against straps.]

There, there... I bet tha' hurt more, ey? [He cackles.]
Y'know what else interestin'? [The clink of a glass jar can be heard.]
Yer plasmid. Y'know, I dunno what th' hell went through tha' head o'yers. A plasmid jus' fer Big Daddies? HA!

Figure ya should have th' honours. I remember how it felt when I got my first plasmid. 'Twas a bitch.
[He sniffs.] So I bet ya jus' itchin' ta know how it'd feel... right now.

[He raises his voice.] Don't stop yer work now, boys! [Another power drill starts up.] Hold 'im tight. I'ma givin' him a 'lil more juice... [Various clinking sounds could be heard.]

[Another suckling sound of liquids through tubes can be heard. The struggling never ceased, and soft monstrous growls could be heard, before they end in a howl. The drills spin faster...]

:: static ::

A pulse ran through his blood, but the Bouncer felt no connection to the event. He simply turned, and lumbered his way out, the surgical table still strapped to his right drill arm...