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"I can barely remember anything if not all of what I endured during my brief experimentation period. Or, as I call them, survival trials. It felt like the longest period of my life, yet lasted the shortest time. Suffering can do that to anybody. For the beast-- For me, another's fear of destruction is my solace, as I constantly fear the meaning of my creation. It is impossible for a monster to see itself as terrifying if it can recall the images of the bloody confines from which it was birthed from."

For half of my life, the depths of the criminal underworld was where I resided: assassins, drugs, killer robots, and much more. But, even they all knew that I, and many included, came straight out of a Hell hole. That Hell hole was called Altior. We were the darkest sector of them all and none knew of our true whereabouts. Although we managed to do business just fine with a few dominant groups.

I lived at Altior for as long as I could remember, presumably since I was born. I never knew my parents nor had any friends. I had no instinct to seek out companionship. That's what they trained me to not feel among other things.

I always had three handlers taking me to and from places inside the facility. When I was younger, I was always under watch by a woman named Diana. She was a short Sumatran striped rabbit. A small woman, but she looked like she could kick anybody's ass. I had always assumed that she was from the military, like my other handlers.

Diana and I spent the most time together during my growth. Though, once I was old enough, they dumped me in a room all by myself to call my own. It was a lifeless room with light grey walls and sickeningly bright florescent lights that hummed a miserable tune. The carpet was thick and off-white. Tufts of it would stick up between my toes and dampen my footsteps. I didn't like my quiet footsteps, and I loathed the color scheme of the whole room. At the very least, my tail grew long enough to drag along the floor. I would pace for hours to block out the subtle, maddening buzz.

I liked the darkness more. It was calming. Every time I turned off the lights someone behind the camera watching me would turn them back on, so I resorted to hiding in a corner, huddled up with my eyes locked on the ground. It was either the corner or the toilet, if I wanted to make myself deaf with its ridiculously powerful vortex that was a mere flush. I just wanted to feel like I wasn't there for a short time.

Loneliness chipped away at me throughout the years, like a rotten toothed old man chewing on rock. It was an awkward time. Awkward because I had no fears, no worries. I had no craving for affection, and I most certainly didn't care for letting someone else comfort me. As if that was ever a possibility. I eventually became a hollow shell of scales. It wasn't until I turned 13 that my daily life changed again.

The squeaky chirp of my door unlocking ricocheted off the walls and rang in my ears. I tolerated that more than all the yelling I dealt with during training. The door slid open and my handlers entered. Diana was always first, followed by Roland, a black wolf, with Juno, a silver caracal, tailing him.

I met them on my feet, wide awake and ready to start the day. Breakfast, exercise, education, then combat training was how it always went. They started me on hand to hand combat when I turned 10.

"Is Subject D-04 ready for roundup?" Juno asked. None of them directly referred to me. To them, I was at a level lower than a pet.

The trips between each room took minutes of walking to reach. My handler's rapid footsteps were of no help. I had to break into a light jog to avoid being trampled beneath Roland's feet. Out of all three, I knew he had the least patience for me. I hated him and I was absolutely sure he hated me.

My ears would often grow lonely from the lack of words spoken. Listening to Juno and Diana's babbling of statistics and other things gave them a treat, even if it was out of my taste. This trip was dead silent as we walked down long corridors. Left, straight, another left, through double doors, then a right. I memorized the trip to breakfast in no time. Only once did I dare to make a peep during a trip. I never did it again lest Roland use his magic wand on me. He had it on him at all times, even when I was a child.

I always believed that it was some sort of magic wand until he finally used it. It was a shiny long silver rod with a blue rubber grip and button that fit in Roland's hand perfectly. He held it so much it practically molded into shape over time. Two shiny silver horns protruded from the other end.

When I opened my mouth to say something, a wicked blue arc of electricity roared from his wand's horns. I was dazzled by the display. I had never seen anything like it. Relentless power sizzled and crackled like a forest ablaze, then Roland jabbed me in the chest. It burned two holes in my shirt as every muscle under my scales violently convulsed in my chest. I was kicked back against a wall from the bulk of power sent to my chest. I struggled to drag heavy, pained breaths into my desperate lungs. I was convinced that my heart stopped beating.

"Subject D-04 mustn't be harmed so severely. If you accidentally kill him Hannibal will have your head." Juno declared. Roland simply shrugged.

As I was down, Roland stood over me with a piercing glare. My chest was on fire, as were my emotions. His tall, bulky figure blocked out the light and became a menacing silhouette with yellow eyes. I stared back at him, burning up inside until he blurred. Tears flooded my eyes from pain and anger.

We continued on as normal. Bitter streams of hot, salty tears raced down my cheeks and stained my shirt. I wouldn't forget what happened.

My tears dried when we reached the cafeteria. It was empty whenever I was taken to eat. We'd arrived far before anyone else at the facility was awake. A bland meal extinguished my burning desire to destroy Roland; food jam packed with enough nutrients to feed a whole family. I would eat that first, then choke down a horrendously thick concoction of orange liquid. I had to drink it fast or else I'd drown in the process. I topped it all off with large amounts of water. For any normal person, my daily meal would be a vitamin overload.

I hopped off my seat and returned to Diana, Roland, and Juno, who waited for me at the door. Usually, Diana split off from the group while Juno and Roland escort me to the rest of my tasks. I was scheduled to go to a different location.

My claws tapped rhythmically along the hard floor as we swiftly headed for an elevator. Four buttons lined up above one another, numbered one to four. I looked up and saw we were on the second level, indicated by the red ring of light surrounding two. The rest glowed orange. Juno tapped three and the doors sealed shut. My stomach nearly sprung a leak from how fast we descended. I felt weightless, but with the weight I was carrying, it felt awful.

Holding my stomach and groaning, I heard a pleasant chime as the doors opened. Instead of a hallway leading to a maze of turns, it was just an antechamber. The fresh aroma of pine invaded the elevator. In no time my mind retraced the images of tall trees and dense forests, then Roland shoved me onto the floor with a boot to my back. The elevator shut and left me behind before I could get back up to my feet.

"I'll get you."

The antechamber had a long and narrow shape, its back wall closer while its side ends stretched far to closed doorways. Polished wood walls glistened with soft orange lighting and the floor was tiled with small white hexagons. The center of the floor was decorated with colored tiles that created an elaborate mosaic design. It looked like some sort of animal. Wooden chairs and benches topped with red velvety cushions sat against the back and front walls. Enormous paintings of mythological figures from the Roman era lined the back wall from end to end.

I wondered where I was supposed to go. I tapped my foot on the floor and flicked my eyes between both ends. Each had a set of double doors with elaborate carvings. My answer soon became clear when the doors on the left side swung open.

I raced to the doors, stopping short as I witnessed a large bull walk out. Light danced across his glossy black pelt and sharp white horns cut through the air. He halted and scanned me with brilliant brown eyes. He wore a clean suit. My blue and creamy white scales offered a lot for him to look at. He'd notice my burned shirt and a stiff frown pulled at the edges of his lips.

"Roland seemed to have given you a bit of trouble."

I awkwardly stood in silence after the bull spoke. I almost didn't register that he was talking directly to me. The only voice that ever did that was the lifeless automated guide I learned from during teaching. I reinforced my stance. "Yes. Uh, yes, Sir."

He bore a smile and approached me. I didn't know what to expect from him. "Who are you?"

"Ah, well, you must not have heard a lot about me. You do know the name Hannibal, do you?"

Hannibal. That name clawed its way out of the deep, almost forgotten recesses of my memory and became clear to me once again. Hannibal, the military genius who came from Carthage, North Africa; the enemy of Rome. He who was defeated by the Roman Legion and fled, believed to have been beaten with the help of the Council of Twelve Roman Gods. History was my least strong suit, yet it fascinated me, still.

"Who are you?"

The black bull knelt down and set a hand on my shoulder. "I am Hannibal. I'm the head of AQV."

I stared in awe. "You're the leader of Altior? I didn't know there were more letters in the name."

"That's because it all makes a phrase. Altior quam vita: Higher than life." Hannibal grinned.

That phrase teased the tip of my tongue. It was so tantalizing, so inspiring. "Higher than life?"

He nodded. "That's right." Then he turned around and lead me through the doors he exited from. "I ordered those three to send you here to meet me because today is a very special day. I trust you've kept track of the dates?"

My mind jogged. It's the nineteenth of August," I answered. I couldn't recall any special events coming up.

"How unfortunate. You don't remember your own birthday?"

"My birthday?"

"Yes! You turn thirteen years old today. I've been counting down the days until its arrival. You're a teenager now."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I have a very special gift for you. Two, to be precise."

I stopped in the middle of a hallway and looked up at Hannibal. There were windows on the wall to the right of me that revealed other rooms. I should have known what was going to happen. "What are the gifts?"

He nudged me to keep walking. His voice covered up the extra footsteps coming in and out of the room on the other side. "Well, Subject D-04, first you can bid farewell to that label. You're getting a name today. That is your first gift."

I was blinded with excitement. "Really?! What name do I get?"

"You'll see after your second gift," Hannibal smirked, walking me into a room with an operating table in the middle. We were in a medical room full of advanced equipment. The table had harnesses fixed to secure loops all around its perimeter. A hand set on my shoulder and squeezed it. "You must do something for me, first."

I stared down at the table and forced down a nervous wad of saliva. "What?"

Hannibal whispered in my ear. "Survive."

I couldn't remember anything from that point onward. Hannibal must have drugged me with a needle while I was distracted. At that very point in time, that was where the old me died on the operating table. Everything came back to light when I woke back up.

I resurfaced from an inky, dizzying haze face down with my arms and legs strapped down and constricted. Hannibal was nowhere to be seen. Several sets of feet dragged on the floor. The noise was Hell on my ears. The more I came to, the more I realized that my entire body felt like Hell.

"Patient has successfully awakened. Vitals seem normal. Blood loss was minimal and there does not look to be any issues in the spinal column or brain."

The crowd murmured and prodded all over my body, putting lights in my eyes and fondling me. I wheezed as I felt a finger tip trace down my bare back. Agonizing pain blazed through my nerves like the fuse of a bomb. I was in too much pain to scream. The more I struggled to move, the heavier my back felt.

"Spinal support and restraint is working just fine. No damage was inflicted while inserting anchoring pins."

Someone squeezed my wrist and I blacked out for a minute. It wasn't until someone administered a heavy dosage of drugs to numb my senses. Everything slowed to crawl, but in that short moment I felt like my wrist was crushed under a wrecking ball. As I drifted off again, I heard another scientist speak:

"Bio-mechanical augmentation complete. Project Argus is a success."

Many hours later, I woke up in a chamber similar to my room. Except there was a large glass wall on one side. It was a one-way mirror. I was on the floor with a messy towel covering half my naked body in a half assed attempt to cozy me up. There was dried blood beneath my legs and wrists, and I could barely stand. I threw my weight onto a wall for support and stood up. I felt like my legs could give out, but something stopped them from sending me back down.

I discovered long bloody scars trailing down my wrists and up my arms. Lasers had fuses my skin back together after mechanical enhancements were fixed to my bones. Implants were also in my legs. I was too afraid to flex or even breathe in fear that my scars would burst. The addition beneath my skin only made it tighter and my bones ached.

The next day I was told everything they did to me, about my second "gift" from Hannibal. I was told that my whole body was augmented to become stronger. My mind, body, and other senses would be improved on an otherworldly level. It was almost unbearable to process. How could medicine and machine do all this to me? My thoughts were unyielding and my new eyesight blinded me wherever I turned. I could see every detail of the peoples' faces on the other side of the mirror with hardly any effort.

They told me I was stronger, better suited to be the top of everything. Higher than life itself. Yet every centimeter of my being cried out for death to relieve me of the pain while my body adjusted.

Some days I felt like my eyes would pop. Other days my muscles would have intense fits of spasms, and I would be stuck helpless on the floor until it ended. Every other day I lied on the cold hard ground, struggling to process anything. I felt like I was watching myself from afar. My mind was a mess. I was thoroughly convinced that everything would go wrong in the end from going braindead due to the intense transformation I went through.

I never saw Hannibal again after that day. And I would be there for another week before I returned to a whole new schedule, wishing for death while laying pathetically in a cold puddle of my own piss and blood. At least they cared enough to use a hose on me every now and then.

I later went on to more advanced combat training and testing. My team was strictly ordered to keep me away from blades. I don't know why exactly. My scales were bullet proof. The closest things I had to blades were my horns, sharpened flat like wicked daggers. Something about them captivated me, though.

Later that year, I went on to kill Roland in a CQC demonstration. I held him to the ground and crushed his windpipe before I drove a finger into the side of his skull and skewered his brain. His left eye nearly bulged out of his head, and that so-called magic wand stood no chance against the force of a raging dragon. The others were pleased.

Since the day of operation, I became Argus, the horrific breakthrough in science that violated the laws of nature. Named after Argus Panoptes of Roman mythology: The all-seeing hundred eye monster.

Unfortunately, Altior never saw me uphold my first task as a super assassin for a business they wanted to send me to called Hunter Killer. I escaped the facility eight years later. Maybe project Erebus will treat them more kindly. For now, I live somewhat peacefully in hiding and patiently wait for the day I decide to return, and destroy Altior.