Project A-932 – Code-name: Project Red
Story by Cederwyn Whitefurr on SoFurry
Project A-932 – Code-name: Project Red - A down on his luck, struggling College student, in massive debt and unable to find a job, decides to answer a newspaper advertisement that seems to good to be true!
Project A-932 – Code-name: Project Red
Chapter One
© Cederwyn Whitefurr
9th July, 2019
All Rights Reserved.
John was down on his luck, unable to find employment – even part time – the work load of university piling up and bills mounting, he cast his gaze over the employment section of the paper.
He sat in a dingy, almost derelict single room apartment. It looked like it'd been built a hundred years ago – wallpaper peeling, carpet nothing but threadbare rags, wiring exposed and even parts of it with its insulation chewed away by rats.
He'd seen one once – damn thing the size of a house cat! It'd hissed at him and its yellowed incisors looked capable of taking a finger off in a single bite. Before he overcome his fear – it hissed again and scuttled off into the darkness, its tiny claws scrabbling on the cracked, weed choked pavement.
Turning his mind back to the paper, he scanned the employment sections, eyes turning glazed and glassy, before one caught his eye.
Wanted, people to undergo drug trials – guaranteed $1000 per day, all expenses paid. Healthy, male or female, no medical conditions or disabilities...
It seemed too good to be true – some Biotech Company, no doubt. To them? A thousand dollars a day? It'd be less than they'd spend on a restaurant bill for the upper management.
“I could use the money, get out of this dung heap, find a nice apartment in a better part of town...it'd help with the bills, so, what do I have to lose?”
Other than your life? How do you know what you're getting yourself into?
Pushing aside the voice in his mind, James tore out the page and made a mental note, to go to the company's headquarters in the morning. Sure, there was a 50/50 chance of getting a placebo – this wasn't his first 'blind testing' of new pharmacological, so it wasn't exactly frightening to him. All he knew, was it promised to ease the financial burden, and who knows, it might be a profitable venture!
He went to bed, dreaming of the money he would make – barely sleeping a wink, he tossed and turned, wondering how long the project would run, what he'd do with the money and how soon he'd get paid...
*
“Mr. Blackwood?” Come a feminine voice.
'Here!” James smiled, as he stood up, folding the clipboard under his arm and approaching the reception desk.
“Thank you - “ Spoke the receptionist lady, as she took the clipboard and set the paperwork in a growing pile.
“So, when is the interview? How soon will I know if I'm accepted into the program?”
“Interview sir?” Asked the receptionist. “There is no interview -”
'Mr. Blackwood?” Come a masculine voice to his right.
Turning, confused and bewildered, James looked at the large, almost bear-like man, dressed in a white lab coat who marched purposefully towards him.
“Yes?” James asked questioningly.
“I'm Dr. Jameson, I'm head of the project, welcome aboard – if you'd kindly come with me please, we'll get you set up!”
“Wait – Doctor - “ James stammered, feeling the Doctor's firm grip on James upper arm. “I thought this was a drug trial...usually - “
“It is...” Dr. Jameson chuckled. “Sir? Please, this way – you'll need to be screened and blood tested and bathed, of course, can't take any chances now, can we?”
“I - “ James felt himself being moved along, stunned and confused, the Doctor moving purposefully towards a large, imposing door.
“All your questions will be answered during the indoctrination, I can't tell you how much we're looking forwards to working with you on this...project...”
*
Bathed, scrubbed until he thought his skin would peel off, and cleaned from head to foot, James was dressed in a simple smock that hung to his knees. He was lead into a room, which had a comfortable recliner, facing a large projector screen.
“Please take a seat, indoctrination will commence shortly!” Come a feminine voice from the speaker on the wall, above the door.
James sat, getting comfortable, as the recliner automatically tilted, the foot rest sliding out and up. He found himself half lying, half sitting, and soon, it began a gentle vibration that had him sighing in pleasure as his taught muscles relaxed and eased. Lighting dimmed, just like in a movie theatre, as the projector mounted on the ceiling began projecting the picture onto the screen.
“Hello, and welcome to the Enclave, we are a global leader in Biotech and Nanotech Research and Development...”
James rolled his eyes, tuning out the speech the video gave, as he drummed his fingers on the armrests, before experimentally gripping them, feeling something unusual about the couch. Just as he frowned and gripped it tighter, there was aloud click and wrist restraints snapped around his wrists. More clanks followed steel bands gripping him around the ankles, before a thick leather strap swished and pulled his neck down.
“What the fuck!” James screamed.
'Please try to remain calm sir - “ Come the voice again. “Subject A-932 secured, moving to phase one.”
“What the fuck is this, let me out – let me...” James screamed in fear, struggling futilely, before there was a soft hiss at the side of his neck, and unconsciousness come down on him like a crumbling wall.
*
James come to consciousness reluctantly, feeling groggy and weak. He found himself hanging from – what was it – it felt like a collar around his throat and neck, attached to something – that held him a good three feet or more off the floor. There was no pain from this unusual restraint, but he could see as his eyes began to refocus, he was wired to machines that whistled, beeped, squeaked and made other noises and sounds. One he recognised, a heart rate monitor.
As he tried to struggle, even to lift a single finger, he found himself immobilised. Had they done something to him? He didn't feel drugged – he just felt – nothing. He couldn't speak, couldn't even flick a single finger! He just hung there, fully conscious, fully aware – and incapable of even blinking.
“Subject A-932,” Come a mechanised voice, cold, dispassionate and without emotion. “You have been selected as candidate for the project. By signing the consent waiver, you relinquished any rights/obligations/or potential civil or criminal charges you may bring against the Enclave.”
I didn't sign up for this! Jack wanted to scream – but he just hung there like meat. This wasn't part of the deal!
_“_Subject A-932, Male, 23...” It rattled off his specifications, like he was some robot, right down to his entire physiological makeup.
James tried to scream, to struggle, to do anything – anything at all – all he could do was hang there, fearing the worst. His eyes moved and he saw the
heart rate machine, expecting it to be screaming and wailing. It remained calm and steady. Just a slow, beep, beep, beep – yet he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost like it wanted to explode outwards.
“Subject A-932, phase one complete, phase two commencing.”
He felt something against his neck, another injection? A scalpel? A damn gun? He couldn't tell, just pressure against his neck, near the base of his skull. Suddenly, agony washed through him from the top of his head to his toes. It felt like his entire body was suddenly on fire! Nerves screamed and sent their messages at the speed of light to his brain which reeled and felt like it'd surely boil.
Then it came...the sickening crack of bones shattering – yet there was no associated pain, he could feel them shatter, before they twisted and began to re-knit themselves – not as they were – but as something different...different lengths, shapes, unknown and unable to be seen.
What is happening...what are you doing to me! James silently screamed, before pain washed over him again – worse than what the previous one had been – this felt like the previous agony had been a lovers caress, compared to this!
Again, he hung helpless, ankle bones snapping and grinding, the sickening sounds reaching his ears, before the shin bones cracked. Knees, thighs, pelvis – all shattered with sickening and nauseating crunches – his mind overwhelmed and on the edges of complete catatonic from the pain that flooded it.
A sudden cooling sensation settled over his mind, and faintly, he seen an auto-injector on a robotic arm slide away from his neck and back up to the ceiling. Instantly, the agony fled, leaving his body chilled and calm.
“Subject A-932, I know this hurts...” Come the dispassionate voice from the computer.
Go fuck yourself! James screamed silently again.
“Subject A-932, I am incapable of this order. I lack the necessary physiological appendages.”
It can read my mind? James moaned.
_“_Affirmative A-932, a Neural-Net link has been established, to better monitor you.”
Please, just let me go – I promise I'll never speak a word – to anyone! I didn't sign up for this, it was a random drug trial and -
“Negative,” Come that voice again. “You willingly signed the consent and release form, you are no longer your own property, you belong to the Enclave.”
I didn't understand...
“Irrelevant and irrational response, Subject A-032.”
Fuck you, you lifeless, soulless machine! What do you know?
“Irrational mental behaviour will be punishable by further suffering – disconnecting pain inhibitors...”
James tried to scream – gods know he tried – as pain beyond anything filled him and very nearly caused his heart to stop beating – so extreme was it. After what felt like an eternity, but was only a single heartbeat of time, the pain resorted back to its previous level of excruciating agony.
_“_Subject A-932, that was for you, the time between one heartbeat and the next. For me? A mere half second. For you? My analysis reveals it must have felt like an eternity. Please cease and desist any further disparagement and insulting behaviour – or pain inhibitors will be permanently disengaged.”
Hanging there, helpless, paralysed and tears streaking down his face, James knew not what was happening to him – he was changing – he knew that, but unable too see, too feel – he had nothing to base his assumptions on. Even his sense of smell was taken away. He could see straight ahead, and only – just – to the sides, he could hear, but that was it...he had to hang there – and endure...
To Be Continued...