Novels2Search
The Vespidian
Contamination, Chapter 13

Contamination, Chapter 13

The Vespidian

Arc 1 Contamination

Chapter 13

A pain spread, and all around me was a screaming, a cacophony of voices fading in and out. Darkness was all around. It was cold, this evil place. There was something else in here; they were here with me. The eyes were watching. The crooked smiles whispered even as they broke apart and reformed, twisting in agony. Unlike before, they felt disconnected and unharmonious, where they had been of a single thought and purpose. They voiced my doubts and troubles, but there were other thoughts as well, unfamiliar emotions that invaded with every word. They were incoherent, sporadic, and downright maddening.

Will I ever escape from here? Are they going to kill me? Should I kill myself? Why is there so much pain? What did we do to deserve this? How are we going to get out of here? Trapped, trapped, trapped there is no escape! So hungry. Why cant we eat?! So dark and scary. Mommy, Daddy save me from the bad people! I wonder if Ichigo made more photos? Are we human? What are we? Why does no one love me? Molotov loves me. Molotov hates me. She is a monster. I am a monster. Monster, monster, monster! Make the pain go away. Make me whole again. I never wanted this, I just wanted to play games and diddle to porn. Nobody loves me, nobody loves me. Oh does the monster want to cry? That is what humans do, not monsters. Mother loves me. Mother. Mother, don't leave me! We cannot hear you Mother. Where have you gone?

"What the hell do you want from me!" I screamed into the echoing abyss. The chatter of the voices paused for a moment as though becoming aware of me for the first time.

The voices shuddered and writhed; One voice devoured all the others as it swelled up into a single twisted voice. It was my inner voice, yet it was distorted and wrong. All the words came from a broken smile. "Why would we want anything? We don't hear Mother anymore. We are alone. We are empty. We are meaningless."

I fell back, staring up at the malformed face. "What the fuck are you!?"

"No need to be so worried. Even without Mother we have been protecting us."

"Us? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't be scared. There is nothing to be afraid of." The darkness seethed, reaching for me, and I hit it away.

"Stay away from me." I snarled.

The face frowned and looked hurt. "If that is what you want. Well then until we meet again, stay safe out there."

"What do you mean out there?"

The smile returned, yet there were no words. Slowly it faded.

~~~

My eyes opened to flashing lights, and the world was discolored. Things were moving so slowly. Blurred and hard to make out. Yet I felt the air on every single nerve of my body burning. It should be absolute agony, and yet, I was numb. Nothing seemed real. This might just be another delusion. I could not blink, my eyes rolling about desperately, trying to piece together something, anything. Things seemed to unfreeze, or rather, the extreme shock to my system was dying down to normal levels. Well, as normal as seeing my face hanging before me.

Things had gotten gnarly out here. Dr. Arbor had wild eyes and some sort of gun in her hand. It kind of looked like a syringe, and there was some green goo... oh god, is that Mutigene? She was edging towards me with it. The boom of a gun went off, and a smoking hole appeared between me and her. Molotov stood there with several armed people. "Dr. Arbor what did we talk about? Put her back together right now or I will kill you. Put it down. She is not stable enough for a booster."

She grumbled. "Just give me a few minutes with her brain. There is so much to learn. I must study this! To think that her brain had it's own circulatory system. A heart and lungs completely separate from the rest of her circulatory system. Think of the possibilities, if we exposed her to more Mutigene she would grow even more. Imagine if she mutated even more!"

"She is good enough as is."

"She could be better. Her body is malleable to Mutigene! Imagine if we created a rank 8, no 9 regenerator. If this works then she could even survive the Spore! Do you even understand what that means?!"

"I don't care. Too dangerous!"

Dr. Arbor snarled. "I made her, she is mine!"

Molotov's voice was cold and dark; she pointed a gauze rifle at her. "You have until the count of five to start, putting her back together. Start with the head. Put her skull back on. No funny business."

Dr. Arbor clicked her tongue and seemed to be debating on injecting me with that Mutigene. Molotov got down to two before Dr. Arbor caved. She relented and set it to the side. She lowered my head back on down. It felt as though a mask was being put over me, and it was gross that plopping sound as it settled in place. The stinging of air subsided, and a short respite from the cold tingling.

I will say that she knows my body entirely too well. It took her only twenty minutes to put everything back where it belonged. I get that I regenerate, but how did I even survive that? I was still paralyzed, though. She was fuming and ranting like a lunatic into a personal recorder. She was speaking in tongues or something. I could not keep up with her banter, and most of it was sciency stuff that I did not understand, to begin with. Something did stick out though "Subject shows astounding adaptability, direct exposure to the Spore could be possible."

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Molotov pats me on the head with a forlorn look. "I did not think she would go so far; she did not even sedate you. I am sorry Vespidian.”

She lifted me and carried me back to my room. I lay there blankly. The thinking was agony. The feeling was coming back, and everything hurt like hell. I could feel my brain shuddering from the pain impulses, and strange tingles spread like a spider web. I closed my eyes, trying to suppress everything. It was not working, though. My body was forcibly pulling itself back together—reconnecting nerves and patching together severed muscles. Something was missing, though. I could feel an empty space in my brain as the muscles and brain tissue reconnected, there was a gap where something should be, yet they reached and crawled, trying desperately to reconnect, failing. They couldn't reach and a painful empty sensation spread over time; it began to dull, leaving me with a deep sadness and a sense of loss. I couldn't stop crying, and I don't know why.

Eventually, I rolled over in bed and realized Molotov had not left. She sat there watching me. It was comforting that she was here, yet it was disturbing that she had let this happen. I hated her, yet something inside me wanted to love her or, at the very least, take comfort in her. Something is seriously wrong with me.

"Leave me alone." I groaned, finding my tongue still numb.

"I need to know you are alright."

"Alright?" I sneered. "She just hacked me to piece and made me watch her do it!"

"I am sorry." She said somber as a funeral.

"Yeah because that makes all this fucked up shit alright."

"Nyet. I promise so long as you are in my care, Dr. Arbor will not have access to you again."

"Fuck you. Fuck Dr. Arbor. And Fuck Dr. Tesla. You can all rot in hell."

"What can I do to make this up to you?" Asked Molotov.

"You can't." I growled.

She stood and paced the room thinking things over. Then she stopped and scowled. She started again after a bit. She must really be trying to figure out something to bribe me with. Eventually, she sat rubbing my leg. I pulled it away from her, glaring. It did not deter her, though.

"Expect special surprise in three days." Smiled Molotov. "Think of it as reward for hard work."

"Reward?"

"Da. I think you will like it. I have been looking forward to it for some time now. You have tomorrow off from training so rest up." Her grin made me shudder.

This was not something that could possibly be fixed. She left, and I curled up in the corner. I want out of this. I spent all night waking and dozing. A creeping feeling of desperation was beginning to take root. Something had to change. This teeter-totter from hell with Molotov was reaching a breaking point. I could not stand her anymore.

Dr. Arbor was another problem. I could feel my mind writhing and devouring all the memories from the operation. As I imagined them, they were submerged in darkness, and no matter how I tried, I could not find them. Was my subconscious protecting me by blocking off painful memories? Soon they were all gone; all that pain, agony, and fear all vanished, and I sat there wondering why I had been so angry just a few moments ago.

It must have been exceedingly traumatic. My mind must have suppressed the memories to protect me. I know that it happened, but the details were vague. All that I know is that I despise her. I hate them all. She was raising my hopes to crush them. It was driving me mad. That is what she wants, isn't it? I will escape. I told myself that I had often made it a mantra to keep me sane. I rocked back and forth in my room. Staring at the walls. It was only a matter of time before Molotov came by for another of her training exercises. She always lies. My eyes were heavy, though, and I was tired. I needed to rest, but the real threat that something would come for me kept me on edge.

Molotov still had not come. I shifted uneasily. It felt strange that she was not tormenting me or watching over me like a hawk. I waited for another hour, but she never came, not even to feed me. Uneasily the thoughts that I really could escape came to mind. I warily looked around outside my door, and as usual, there was nobody there. A part of me screamed that this was all a trap and that I should just go back to the room and await my training. The rest of me craved this moment, and I would run from her clutches. I could not stay here.

The hallways were empty, and I approached the elevator, pressing the button a few times. The doors opened, and I half expected Molotov to be waiting, but she was not there. I pressed the first-floor button, and the doors closed. I could feel it moving up and sighed. I clutched my head uneasily, watching the lights moving up the rows of numbers. Then I arrived. My body contoured to the side, hiding when the doors opened. Peeking out, not a soul in the parking garage could be seen. It took a few moments to muster the courage to creep out. I had learned something from that terrible place and latched onto the ceiling. It was easy, how strange. I hated it so much before, but now I feel safe acting like a bug and hiding in the shadows.

I scuttled across the roof towards the shutters. They were closed, and there was no way out. Then I saw the vent and wormed my way in. It was exhilarating; I could almost taste freedom. Then I started having doubts. Molotov would hunt me down and break me. I shuddered in terror, imagining what dreaded things she would do. However, I had come this far and would not return. The tunnel shifted and went up, always up. A fan blocked my path and was torn through like butter. Then a screen and a cylinder-like shaft went up even farther. I could see the specks of light, filling me with hope. I reached the top and popped out of the air conditioning vent. A roof lay all around with little rocks that crunched below my claws. I covered my eyes, staring at the sun. How long had it been since I last saw the sun, I wonder?

My eyes adjusted and observed the surroundings. Warehouses stood to either side, and trees dotted a small park. I turned and used the sun to understand where I was. The mountains were to the north, and the sun was setting to the west, so I was somewhere in the northeastern area. I looked over the skyscrapers and aligned myself to the southwest, the center of the city. The large buildings towered and clustered in that direction. I took a deep breath of the smog-filled air and lowered myself to stay out of sight. The next building was pretty close, and I could jump to the roof easily. I prepared myself and looked around again to ensure no one was watching. The coast was clear.

I went for it.