Change of Body-Pt9
#9 of Change of Body-Series
It's been a while since I last uploaded, but never the less, here's an update! Enjoy~
--- 09:13:01 AM (hh/mm/ss) --- - [Haringale Facility of Biological Research & Genetic Modification / Subject R&R Ward] -
Doctor James motioned at the door, nodding towards Garrin. He crept inside, trying to be as quiet and and considerate as possible. The room was exactly the same as his own in nearly every way- aside from the creature that lay deeply unconcious on the bed. Having just visited Melvin and his tired, broken body, then talking with Anna and Bella about their recovery, he wasn't sure if he was ready to look at Valery Dwinkly. She was still asleep since they were all taken from the chambers, and it had been a bit over a week now since then.
Looking at her limp body, she seemed calm at rest. Her body, like the others, was in it's half form- but the scales seemed to be more developed than everyone elses. Her head was fully transformed, a complete muzzle and elongated skull with a feminine vibe, plated in her new born armour- much unlike Garrin, who still had patches of flacking skin on his own face, lacking a full coat of plating yet. Her muzzle had an oak brown ridge along the top, leading towards her similarily coloured nose, while her neck had the tell-tale signs of emerging orange shades. The rest of the body was covered with warm blankets, except for a paw, poking out from under the sheets.
James entered the room now, muttering about how she seems to be stable, looking over her vitals on a machine under her bedstand. The sleeping dragon looked... beautiful, Garrin admitted, in a rather cute way. Her horns were just little nubs on her head, like a doe's, and her body was as fragile as one too.
"It looks as though she's fine. Fredrickson was in here earlier, I don't believe you've met him. He reckoned if she doesn't wake up in another week, we'll have to decide what to do with her. She can't live in a coma like this forever, after all."
The Doctor's words lay on Garrin's heart, sagging it down. There was always a chance that this might happen. After all, it was almost a miracle that all eight had made it out of the chambers alive... but that didn't change the situation for poor Valery.
Garrin padded over to the other side of the bed, closer to where he could hear her breathing. She didn't sound as though she were having any trouble or wheezing- a clean, quiet whistling emanated from her muzzle.
"I'll get her a new bag of fluids for her IV drip. You're welcome to stay, but don't disturb her please."
He left the room, coat swishing behind him. Garrin lay down, listening to the shy girl as she inhaled rythmically. He reminded himself that she might not enjoy the thought of being looked at in her sleep, given how embarrassed she was in the showers a number of months ago. Yet, he felt as though someone should be there, just to comfort her. Picking up his own paw from the ground, he placed it on the bed, next to the one which stuck out from the blanket.
Looking at his own arm, he was reminded by how it had been itching lately as it covered itself with hard bumps. The old skin was peeling off occasionally in his sleep, but there was always a layer of sensitive scales or lumps beneath. The rouge red he was supposed to be was slightly brighter than expected, but the exact colouring didn't bother Garrin that much.
"..uhhm... Hupe you get w-eell soon Valeery."
Against his better judgement, he placed a claw on her wrist, and stroked lightly. Her paw was entirely made of fine, greyish-white lumps, fine enough that his claw didn't jump or bump around. He did this a few times, for her sentiment, then eased off.
Her claw twitched.
"Valeery?"
It twitched again. Garrin's heart began to thump, realizing what he might have just done. Looking over her muzzle, he backed away, fixated upon her once sleeping gaze. Her eyes flew open. Bloodshot and red.
*BRR BRR BRR BRR BRR BRR BRR*
Garrin panicked as the heart moniter went bezerk, Doctor James running in having dropped the bag on the way.
"Get out of the room! Get back! We have an E32, heart rate's jumped abnormally high, repeat, E32."
He ordered Garrin out of the room, still barking at the communicator he had in his pocket. Moments after getting outside, a trio of Doctors with surgical masks, wielding first aid kits and a tray of syringes flew past, asking for the confused Dragon to leave the area, a forth person in a guard's uniform drawing in to escort him away.
Garrin tried to look at what was happening in the room, but Dr James noticed him, the door sliding to a close. The room was now only one of mumbling men and incessant blaring machines. Finally doing as he was asked, the red dragon cooperated as the guard pushed him back towards his own subject room, locking it once he was past the door. Garrin lay back on the bed, covering his face with his paws. He didn't mean to cause a problem, and certainly not to Valery. That one touch had gone wrong, all wrong.
--- 10:20:53 AM (hh/mm/ss) --- - [Haringale Facility of Biological Research & Genetic Modification / HOD of Genetics Office] -
Mr Haringale sat still upon his chair, entirely focused on the red light on his screen. The "All Clear" marker was greyed out, and red flashing indicator had appeared beside subject #4 - the one who still had not woken. He had been intending to have a light day of work too- He wasn't supposed to be at work, but it looked as though he might be needed for decision making.
He'd always had his worries. Leaning back, he reviewed her vitals over the last two weeks, from where they deteriorated right to removing her from the chamber, and the steady positive increase until the graphs went haywire just an hour ago. He cleared his glasses up, but his eyes were straining a bit to read the small font. Maybe he was getting just a bit old for this.
Without warning, the red light ceased it's complaints. The "All Clear" indicator blinked on after a few seconds. With a sigh, he tried to settle himself, awaiting Mrs Stanley's report. She'd be in his office within half an hour with a summary of what happened, and the status of their subject. He could wait, but the experienced HOD knew that it was too early to celebrate.
The knocks came, quick and sharp as ever. Mr Haringale opened the doors on instinct, still looking at the heart rate data. He heard footsteps come up to his desk, and the plonk of a paper pile being added to it.
"Sir?"
"Go ahead."
"Valery Dwinkly has calmed down now after some sedation. As far as the Doctors can tell, the subject Garrin Fitch might have disturbed her in some way, but there's not much evidence for it. She could have just happened to wake up when he was in the room."
"Ahh, so no damage?"
"No damage."
The aged man lent on the desk with his elbows, and rubbed his temples. He furrowed his eyebrows as he though something through, leaving Fione to merely guess at what he was thinking. Finally, he swayed back, mildly content.
"Well, Fitch did what he did, and she's awake now. Put her on the standard treament, but don't accelerate her recovery. It's fine if she lags behind the other subjects."
"Is that all sir? What about Fitch?"
"That is all."
Fione stood at the desk, as if waiting for her boss to append something else to his statment. He seemed entirely engrossed in the subject data however. If he didn't want to push the 'Fitch' issue, then so be it- she'd still be able to ask the dragon about it at a later date. So much had been planned out to commence the whole DNA project, that little hicups like this could easily become huge problems if they aren't dealt with. Thinking about that, she reminded herself of another issue.
"Oh, and Mr Haringale- there's been an abnormal number of lighting failures in subject room #7. About four times now a doctor or nurse has entered the room to find lights are off, and have called for replacements. We might want to investigate for an electrical fault, or move the subject into a spare room temporarily."
"That's no cause for alarm, call in one of the contractors to fix it. Anything else?"
"No sir."
"You may leave as due."
--- 04:26:00 PM (hh/mm/ss) --- - [Haringale Facility Topside Entrance / Reception] -
Stepping out from the car, he shut the door carefully, the old thing nearly fallen to peices. It really was only a matter of time before he'd need to get a new one- but financial troubles always left him in a ditch for necessities like these. Larry gazed up the white concrete building, it's slider doors welcoming him into it's mystery. This was the same place he visited perhaps four months ago, and the same place his friend would likely be.
Strolling through the glass entrance, sliding open without a whisper, he rang the bell once to grab the receptionist's attention.
"Hey, could ya' speak with me for a sec?"
"Sure, how may I help you?"
"A while back, a friend of mine did some test-subject thingie. Somethin' 'bout a transformation? Anyway, his name is 'Garrin Fitch', and I was wonderin' if you could let me speak with him."
"Let me check that on our system."
She tapped away at her keyboard, leaving Larry to look around the room. It was clean, proffesional. Potted plant in the corner. He hadn't actually gone inside last time, having had a bit of an awkward goodbye. The lady seemed to be done, turning back to him.
"Yes, Garrin is still in the building, although he's being interviewed right now. I'll send a message to Mrs Stanley, the lead coordinator, on whether or not he is allowed to have visitors. When I get word back, I'll phone you- please put your number down here until then."
Jotting down his details, Larry swiped his brow. He should have expected that there would be all sorts of controls on visitors, but he still wondered if the whole thing was still a scam or not. Mind you, his landlord had been recieving payments for the rental, as according to the agreement Fitch had with this place. It'd just been a long time- what really had happened to Garrin?
"That should be it."
"Alright, thank you, 'Larry Goodwind'. Have a nice day."
Walking slowly out of the technological intitute, Larry gazed up at the grey clouds forming overhead. Back to the reality of his dingy car. A few more days of waiting couldn't hurt, yet, a little grind still stirred in his belly- would Garrin remember him? and if the whole thing even worked... what would he even look like?