Flashes of endless, climbing fire upon steel walls; sparks of electricity sprouting from various bright and active machines; frantic, frenzied, shadows danced upon the metal ceiling. Words jumbled together in frightened screams; painful wails erupted like the fall of dominos; the stink of burnt human flesh mixed with the smoky, dark air.
Flickering of light fixtures occurred before darkness reign in tiny, low ceiling hallways. Hallway doors shut rapidly and rhythmically. Sirens and alarms and electronic wails echoed from somewhere off in the distance. Heavy stomping of storming feet; clicking and switching of guns; shouts of 'go' and 'stop'; the word 'freeze' echoed continuously.
Loud booms came from behind; fire danced upon carpet and ceramic walls, licking Styrofoam ceilings. Rapid cracks and bangs; gusts of tiny winds; searing pain as something entered into a body.
Cold, crisp, fresh, night air; dark, starry sky; big full moon: something old, something new, something fair, something beautiful. Dark clouds framed the large full moon; reminded something of a dream.
Ice cold liquid ambushing; no breath, no air; suffocating in darkness.
An unusual, unacquainted feeling of an unknown sensation; the word...the word...it felt like watching a bird flying away from a cage. Fly. Fly. Fly.
- - - -
Jerking up from the pile of dirty trash bags, the young male gasped for air; coughing out phantom water that his mind believed to be filling up his lungs. Rolling to the side, the young male gagged up only spit and water from his stomach to throw up something. He breathed heavily, attempting to get air into his "suffocated" lungs; cold sweat beads gathered at his nose, slowly rolling down the bridge until it dropped from the tip.
The young male sat up to only flop back on the trash bags, his green, tear shimmering eyes looked up at the night sky. The second full moon he has seen, aside from his reoccurring dream...or nightmare. He lifted up his hand, rubbing at his face in a tired manner. That dream always exhausted him, made his mind even more absent than it already was; he loathed and loved that single dream. He didn't know if this was the only thing he could recollect before his memory was mysteriously gone, which he loathed; however, he loved it all the same for it being the only memory he could have.
"You a drunk? Lost yer way from a party?--Hey got any beer left on ya?"
It was the same question that was constantly asked in the same fashion by dirty, grungy, smelly looking men who called streets and alleyways their home. The young male could never reply to any of these questions, because he didn't know. His own self was lost from his mind--was he a drunk? Was he at a party? Did he have any beer left on him? The young male ignored all the questions all together; some instinct inside of him told him to leave the place he laid to rest when those questions arise, as if he knew they would become hostile if he ignored and remained or denied everything.
The young male pushed himself up from the bags and began to wander out of the alleyway, glancing up and down the barren night streets. He had no knowledge of what town, city, or state he was in; however, judging by the common language and accent, he was within the country of the United States of America: latitude 38° 0' 0" N longitude -97° 0' 0" W. He could also assume the area he was stationed in had a rather high crime rate considering no one wandered the community streets at night aside from homeless persons. However, there were areas in the town which were safe, such as downtown surrounding the town hall and police station and several open night bars and restaurants. 30% of this town was urban; 50% was suburbs; 20% was rural farm.
The young male knew all this about the town but didn't know the name; he didn't have access into the town hall to glance over the records considering his outfit and smell. The thought of his attire forced the young male to glance down; a tight black suit with black armor over the chest; white stripes down the arm and back; an electronic wrist computer; utility belt; lastly, black combat boots. He deemed himself as suspicious or someone who enjoyed dressing up--however, the make and design of this suit was far too advance for any average person to produce. The young male knew that this belong to or was produced by someone very highly intelligent. If it was him or another, he did not know.
Maybe the men dwelled on streets were right about beer...maybe all he really needed was a bit of alcohol in his system. He had nothing else to do or even lose; besides, he fancied the thought of meeting someone who may prove useful and get him cleaned up so he could enter into town hall's hall or records.
The walk to downtown from his current position took approximately 38 minutes, 43 seconds, and 3 milliseconds; distance was 174, 240 feet; 53.108352 kilometers; 33 miles. He wasn't tired after the walk, or did he feel as if either leg were tired--in truth, he felt no difference from the time he stood to his feet till now. Another five minutes passed by until he had found a bar establishment that didn't have a large man staring him down as he ambled by. His welcome wasn't any different as he walked into the bar; however, most of the occupants were on the miniature dance floor next to the bar, moving their bodies to the music. The ones who were stationed at green tables holding sticks and clicking balls glared at him; soon as he closed his distance to the bar, did the people stationed at the stools sneer and scooted away from him. The bartender gave him a suspicious look, though the young male could see the look of 'potential customer' overpowering the fear.
"What will you have?"
The young male kept his hands to his sides, glancing over the drinks that people closest to him had; as much as the young male was eager to try beer the street men so actively talked about, he knew things weren't free. His unsettled green hues looked to the bartender, "Is water free?"
The suspicious look came about once more; instinctly, the bartender reached for the tip jar and pulled it back to hide it under the counter. "Yeah...it's free. You want that?"
"I'll start with that," he replied, hoping his choice of words would change the bartender's mind. There came a nod--progress--before the bartender placed down a glass of water before him. The young male had only realized this was his first time drinking since three days--he didn't even have a bite to eat either! He didn't feel any urge or crave in the time frame to seek food or water. Somehow, he found that odd. Nevertheless, the male took the glass of water and chugged it down quickly; his throat felt in some sense better, though no sensation followed after. He placed down the glass, licking his lips to remove excess beads of water that gathered upon his skin.
The bartender stared at him, waiting for his second order; when no words came out from the young man as he stood still and returned the stare in a perplex manner, the bartender finally said: "You smell like shit--don't you know that?"
Green orbs fell from the bartender's face and with a slight nod, he replied, "Yeah...I know. Night after night of lying in trash bags of the public's waste has a tendency to make you smell."
Suddenly, the empty glass was snatched from the counter by the bartender. "If you're not going to buy anything, I suggest you leave. You're scaring me and my customers with that suit and you're making this whole place smell like shit. Get out."
Hands clumped into balls of fists; green orbs transitioned to a bright red. The bartender retreated, his back bumping into the wall of alcohol. The fear relayed back to the young male and suddenly, the anger vanished; the tension from the bartender subsided slightly when he could see the unnatural red to a more favorable green. The young male stepped back from the counter as the occupants at or near the counter stared at the male in a perplexed fashion. He turned away, making his way to the door to exit the establishment; the night air grasped his body and forced his anxiety to come down from its high. The male wandered to the edge of the building, leaning his side against the corner of it; he rubbed his hands against his face, feeling the ridged cells rubbing at his flesh, nearly clinging to it. He sighed heavily, lolling his head down in dismay; what had happened, was beyond him. His rage suddenly came on and his body felt ten times the endurance, strength, and speed--as if something was suddenly pumped into his body to make him better.
The male leaned against the corner wall, sliding down to rest on his bum. Why couldn't he remember anything? What is the truth behind his dream? Why is he feeling this way? Why was he even here?
"Oi, shit face!" a voice called from behind the young male, grabbing his attention. He turned his head over his shoulder to glance over two large men that had recently exited from the bar establishment. The young male turned his head away, attempting to ignore them--the last thing he needed was a confrontation; however, the two larger men thought it was the best thing for him at the moment. "Bartender said he don't want you around his place anymore. So, here's the deal: we're going to make you forget this place ever existed." With the young male's head turned away, he could still hear the popping of knuckles, imagining the air receding from in between the joints.
Personally, the male didn't want to forget anymore; he didn't even know who he was. A stern grip appeared on his shoulder and a rough push forced the young male into a small alleyway for "privacy". The two men blocked the view from the entrance of the alleyway with their large bodies; they grinned manically, looking over the young male who was definitely smaller than them by every way. The young male glanced over each man's body, sizing them up; somehow, he could immediately spot their weaknesses in their joints.
First man had a weak knee, probably from a high school football game; it was an old wound but still very weak nonetheless. Second man had a weak wrist, probably was in way too many bar fights and that had finished him off starting them. The young male couldn't deny this was weird...however as the fists were raised by the two males in front of him, everything slowed down. It was an unusual sensation for him, though he didn't know how to stop it; although, some part of him didn't want to stop this--as if this was natural.
Within moments, the young male stepped forward, lowering into a crouch before the two men could even throw a punch; he punched the first man's knee in, sending his entire leg into an uncontrollable shudder. He reached up to the second man's wrist and twisted it until it he felt the sprain vibrate into his own hands. The young male didn't stop there, he twisted it further until the second man's whole body flipped on to its back. As the first man was falling into a crouch, the young male jerked up his knee, slamming into his face and dislocating his nose as well as knocking in a few teeth.
The male took a step back to be out of the way of the collapsing man; he watched him hit the ground with a hard 'oof', looking over the aftermath. The young male's eyes widened in awe before his attention turned to his hands--'when did I learn that?!' His heart began to pick up speed, feeling the temors shudder his entire body; he gripped at his chest, stepping back against the wall. 'How did I--?'
The young male lowered his head, trying to recollect himself; it didn't take long, a split second and he had complete control of his body. He pushed up from the wall, moving towards the two men to make his way out of the alleyway. He as passed them by, he noticed movement from behind; his eyes darted down to the first man, though he was too late to prevent the next action. A flip razor blade had stabbed into the back of his calf, having the young male grunt in discomfort; he stumbled forward, catching himself on the wall with his hand. He heard the faint chuckles from the first man, obviously basking in the delight that he had given a hit count.
The young male grabbed at the switchblade lodged into his calf and ripped it out with a soft grunt; he looked it over, examining the red liquid that stained the steel. Red orbs looked to the first man before the hand lifted up; with one swift movement, the switchblade had been lodged into the ground. The young male marched towards the chuckling man and lifted his heel, kicking at his temple to knock him out. "Stay down," he muttered between his lips. He turned to the entrance and limped his way out, the people standing near the alleyway gandered at him for a moment before their attention turned to the alleyway to see the two large men unconscious on the ground.
The young male limped as far as he could until his leg was giving out on him; somehow, he found this rather unusual, though he couldn't part from the idea that he was human. He looked over the wound, the back of his leg bloody and he had made a trail to follow his tracks. He didn't like this outcome, though so far, the young male didn't know the nearest hospital or clinic. He thought of the items he would need to fix up the wound, though there was none on him or near him. 'How would--' dull green orbs flickered in his eyes; slowly lowering himself against a wall to sit down. He ignored the people that wandered by him, whispering about his welfare as if he couldn't hear them. Blood began to puddle around his area; all he could do was watch the blood pour out from his leg.
☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣ ☣
"Date...Ugh...September 18th. Time is...00:34. It has been...three days since project 58 had escaped."
Dr. Michael Macalahay leaned back into his computer chair, the screws squeaking from over use; he released a heavy sigh, glancing around the dark closet that he was now situated in from the aftermath of the escape.
"I...wasn't exactly there, when it happened. I was on a coffee break...we..uhm--my team and I were doing test runs of the subject. He just had neuron transplants inserted in to aid his concentration and stress level. Uhm...we thought he was subdued, his brain waves were really low, far too low for anyone to be jumping out of a chair..."
"We...uh...left him there, alone in the lab. He was strapped down, so we had no real concerns. It wasn't...maybe about five minutes when we heard a crash from outside of the lounge. I...I was the one who exited first...I ran from the lounge to the lab to see that the project was on his feet, looking around. He looked lost...which was a good thing, which he didn't remember who he was...but bad, considering we weren't at the process of setting in his design chip."
"I tried to talk to him, telling him that he's all right and he should lay back down. Our eyes met...confused, frightened, distant. That's when I knew...he wasn't going to listen. He...uh...he was the first project...the first subject that we wanted to try and maintain his mind. We wanted to see if we could give him his emotions yet still do his job. If it wasn't going to work when he had been officially woken up, we would shut down that part of the brain...but...considering he woke up before we could...I pretty much figured out his next moves."
"He didn't ask any questions, but they all circled through his mind and eyes. I could only tell him he was going to be all right. Something...I don't know what...told him that he couldn't trust me. His eyes turned red and the systems were on. I was extremely happy to see that this was working, but...red meant...attack. He charged forward and threw me against the wall before charging out."
"It was like watching a child mowing around with a gun. Whoever he didn't like, he took down; whatever was in his way, he threw it away; he did whatever it took to get out of the complex."
"I...I had passed out...but I didn't think that he could make it off the island. I didn't program the systematics into his brain about the complex, so I can only assume he found a wall map and memorized that. He has a wonderful memorizing capability."
"Ah...yeah...the abilities. His entire body has been refurnished to mechanical muscles--well aside from his head...we didn't want to touch that quite yet. He has the ultimate strength and speed; we program him with all the required martial arts and weaponry use in his mind at that time. We did the protocol of strengthening his mind and gave him cybernetic eyes. We were nearly there, but the emotional state of him woke him up--at least that's what I assume. He's able to handle his stress, though he still has the notion of fight of flight"
A heavy sigh was sounded by the scientist.
"We...didn't put a GPS on him. We didn't expect him to wake up..."
"He's out in the world now...still a child holding a gun...but hopefully, the character he was before this was...decent....Ah...no...reports have come in that seem to notion his location just yet...but the government has nestled in already in the complex. We'll be setting up the running projects and have them search for him when we find a location of his whereabouts."
"He's the living superhuman...the most advance and has all the techniques the other projects have. All situated into one...thinking...emotional...human. Lost, confused, and knows nothing of himself or his life."
"Oh good god...help us..."
[Private for Maz I hope this is a good start XD Maybe your character(s) found him attractive and were nice enough to look past the smell XDDD Really concerned about him...just because he's pretty XD After a solid meeting can we get into the realism of Cyborg #1 XD Like the facility and company and etc XD
If you played Fallout: New Vegas then you know this suit XDD
Basically this suit, though it doesn't have pouches on the belt, just a utility belt like Bat's; the chest and back piece are black and instead of fingerless gloves, his hands are covered by the suit as well.
His suit pretty much has the same style of Crysis; enhancers that turn on automatically through body adjustments though he can switch them off with a thought. He can take off the suit as well so its not connected to him, but the enhancers are within his frame work XDDD Like cyborg bits XDD And don't worry he still his precious stuff XDDD Though he doesn't have any reproduction system--meaning no sperm xD And he doesn't ever use the restroom; his metal stomach just breaks down foods and uses it as energy to supply the human bits XD]
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Thu Sep 08, 2011 10:43 am