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Rude Awakening Story by Raziel Characters © Eon Furioso

The room was dark, but it wasn't silent. From somewhere in the gloom, a steady beeping sounded. Another sound came and went regularly, like breathing. Underlying these main sounds, other things could be heard; steady buzzing, a gentle whir, something clicking. From outside of the room, footsteps approached. Muffled voices began to speak. "Any idea why this subject was more successful than the others?" The faint sound of someone tapping on a tablet. "Not really, Dr. Vanderbelt. If the subject could be called one thing before alteration, it'd be 'aggressively average'." A moment of silence followed, broken by another beep. "I want more experiments run on the pre-transformation samples that were taken. Full spectrum. Something has to be different; we just need to find it." "Right away, sir!" A different sound filled the room for a moment; the sound of fingers on a keypad, followed by a confirmatory sound. Lights flicked on automatically as the door opened. In the centre of the room was what could only be described as a combination between a hospital bed and an incubator. What was inside it, however, was far from a new-born. Dark fur with golden markings covered an athletic body. The face had a pinkish nose as a highlight among the dark. A tail lay mostly still in the groove made especially for it - only the very tip twitched occasionally. The head was covered with electrodes attached to one of the large machines and the subject's eyes moved beneath closed eyelids. The form was covered with a multitude of IV's and other tubes connected to various areas of his body. Vanderbelt leaned over the incubator and rapped his knuckles against the glass. "Apart from the uncertainty of his survival, how is our subject doing?" A younger scientist, looking like he came fresh out of internship, scrolled through the information on his tablet. "Eon's vital signs are completely stable, but surprisingly low." Vanderbelt frowned. "I prefer it if you call him 'subject'. Don't personify it." "Sorry, sir." His expression softened immediately. "No problem, you are still only a protégé, you are here to learn. Back on the subject; I expected that. He simply doesn't need more while at rest. What about the reprogramming procedure?" The young scientist switched on one of the screens in the room, revealing a set of wavy but regular lines. "Brainwaves are stable..." he sorted through some earlier dates. "Some recurring spikes have been observed, though. We're keeping an eye on that. Regardless of that, the subject should be a blank slate at this point." "Outstanding. Wouldn't want his beauty-sleep to be interrupted, now would we?" "No sir." Vanderbelt looked down at the sleeping form with a grin. So much potential. Then he turned away, the young scientist automatically following in his wake. The door closed, and the lights switched off again. Vanderbelt's voice could be heard through the door. "And by the way, Thorpe, I think we should start the next phase soon. Make arrangements for collection of genetic material."

The activated screens went into standby again. The form in the incubator shifted slightly, nose gently sniffing the air and catching a whiff of his visitors. A very slight growl resonated within the confines of the incubator. The beeping took on a shrill, plaintive tone. A while later, running feet could be heard coming down the corridor, followed by a feverish rapping on the keypad. The door hissed open and the lights blinked on again. Another scientist, this one flanked by two uniformed security officers, entered the room. He stared at the black shape, and swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd read the report on the subject's physical characteristics. "You, keep an eye on him. You stay outside." The guards nodded and one stepped out of the room without argument. He moved slowly, avoiding touching the incubator unit, as he moved to the screens and flicked them on. Sweat beaded on his forehead when he noticed the activity spikes. "Contact Vanderbelt, we need his approval to up the amount of anaesthetic." Another urgent beep rang through the room and the scientist felt himself freeze when he very clearly saw the body move, followed by an unusually deep breath. The ECG came to life with a warning claxon as the heart-rate began to accelerate and deepen, rising out of the rest-level. The scientist's mouth was opening and closing like a gaffed fish when the implications sank in. He reached for one of the IV's and took a syringe into a trembling hand. "Doc, what are you doing? You know you-" "Vanderbelt can kiss my ass! If I don't-" Something made his breath catch in his throat. His eyes slowly drifted to his side, his blood chilling when they met with another set of clear, slitted eyes that looked like liquid gold. The syringe clattered to the floor and shattered.

The guard outside tensed up completely when he heard the scream followed by an explosion of noise from the room. In the second it took for his mind to catch up, the screams and roars had started already. He slid his card past the reader, overriding the need for a passcode and opening the door. The subject was on him before he realised what happened. Something tugged at his throat briefly and let go. It took a moment for him to realise that something liquid ran down his chest, blood surging from a horrific wound. In moments, everything went black as he collapsed.

Eon's mind swam, still hazy from the anaesthetic but that was lifting rapidly. Instead of clarity, it was replaced by nothing but an overwhelming sense of seething rage. He remembered nothing at all from before awakening and his rising anger prevented him from being able to think ahead. He was solidly caught in the 'now' with his body locked into fight-mode. The source of his rage was a mystery to him. Eon found that he didn't care much. Especially not when two more white coats entered his vision. He hissed through clenched teeth as he threw himself at them, claws extended. There were screams. There was begging. White cloth stained red when he rent their bodies like tissue-paper.

"Jesus Christ, he's killing everyone!" Vanderbelt sat in his chair, observing the carnage via the security cameras. The monitor's light was reflected by his glasses and he didn't even bother to hide his smile. A finger went to the intercom. "Magnificent. I want him taken alive. No lethal force." "What!? He's already-" "I think I made myself clear. No lethal force or I might decide you'd make a good test-subject to try and recoup the loss." Vanderbelt closed the connection and resumed observing the footage like one would a film.

Two guards entered through the door where the subject had been last seen, shakily extending tranquilizer guns in front of them. "Where is he?" The answer came when Eon dropped from above, having suspended himself close to the ceiling after encountering the locked door. Ribs were shattered by savage kicks from powerful digitigrade feet and claws ripped through the unarmoured parts of their bodies. He felt the sting of a dart, and another. His vision wavered for a moment until the adrenaline rush overpowered the drug and filled him with even more rage. A name had boiled to the surface of his feverish thoughts; Vanderbelt. Even remembering the name sent him into a deeper rage, colouring his sight crimson. He didn't remember why, but something in his mind hadn't forgotten. Hadn't forgotten just being snatched off the street. Hadn't forgotten the car running into him and slamming him against the pavement. Hadn't forgotten how he struggled against sleep when the nasty scent of the knockout-gas wormed its way into his nostrils. A nearby door opened and he launched himself at yet another opponent in reflex. Eon slammed into something cold and smooth, his claws scratching the surface of a clear-plastic riot shield. He could see the eyes of its wielder, wide with shock. He could smell the fear on the guard. He planted his feet on the ground and shoved back violently with a roar, the guard's feet slipping on the floor before being slammed against a wall. Eon slammed against the shield again and again, the force transferring to the guard's unprotected head. The dull thumps seemed to echo until one blow caused a dull crunch instead. Blood splattered on the other side of the shield and the body it was supposed to protect went limp.

He barely felt the pinpricks on his back. Bright flashes of light suddenly exploded in Eon's sight and he roared in pain when his muscles contracted violently. There was an audible crackle of electricity as another guard kept his finger on the trigger of his air-taser. Eon flailed and roared but remained standing, jerkily turning around like a deranged puppet to face the new attacker. A fist clenched around the silvery wires attaching the electrodes to the device. The guard readied himself when he saw what he tried to do. "Shit! It's not working, I need help!" The guard held firm when Eon pulled on the wires, reflexively wanting to hold on to his main weapon. The only effect was being pulled off his feet and towards the raging test subject. He reached for the club-like close-contact taser he still had, jabbing it awkwardly towards the target despite being sprawled on the floor. He'd hit nothing but air. Then he yelled out when a foot smashed down savagely on his wrist, snapping it like a dry twig. Freakishly powerful hands grasped his head and lifted him up, his neck straining and popping from the sudden violent tug. There wasn't any time to scream before Eon dug his sharp, predatory teeth into the man's throat. He tasted the blood, smelled the coppery tinge of it, and then tore out his throat entirely. His black fur was so deeply splattered with crimson that it became hard to guess what his original colours had been.

Eon heard the voice on the intercom. He recognised it on a subconscious level. He'd heard the voice before all this, and during the dreamless state between the infinitely distant then and now. "Now, now. That's no way to treat your creators and protectors. Make it easy on everyone and give up. Spare yourself the pain." He was breathing so hard that a thin mist of spent blood sprayed through the air. His hands clenched-and-unclenched constantly. He exhaled loudly through his nose, as if to blow the scent of blood out of it before sniffing the air. There it was; that familiar scent of rubbing alcohol and sterilised equipment tinged with a touch of expensive cologne. He locked on to it immediately and ran down another corridor. In Vanderbelt's office, Gregory Thorpe became increasingly uneasy, fidgeting and sweat already running down his forehead. "Gavin, he's heading right for us!" Vanderbelt nodded. "Yes he is. Marvellous. Open the door, my protégé." There was a pause, and Vanderbelt raised an eyebrow. "...Now if you don't mind."

The corridors became a blur as Eon followed the scent-trail. He didn't fully know who this 'Vanderbelt' at the end of it was. He just knew that whoever he was needed to die. Nothing before or after that mattered to him. Some part of his mind not blinded with rage needled him, trying to make him conscious to the suspicious fact that nobody else had attacked him. It all disappeared in a rush of blood when he saw the open door at the end of another corridor, the white-coated person sitting behind the desk as if calmly waiting for an interviewee. Eon howled and roared and charged, claws extended in front of him as he vividly imagined what he'd do to Vanderbelt when he got his hands on him. So vivid was the dream that he didn't hear the soft pops behind him despite his enhanced senses. And then he was mired in molasses when the strange, balloon-like globes exploded at his feet. A strange gel burst forth that almost instantly hardened. There were more pops and Eon's golden eyes glared back down the corridor; two guards had emerged, wielding unfamiliar weapons. He tried to dodge, but his feet were already effectively glued in place. Both globs hit his legs directly, splattering them with the gel and locking him in place. He snarled and growled, clawing at the substance and only finding his hands glued in place just as easily. Then he heard the clapping. And that shrill, thin laugh. Vanderbelt emerged from his office. "Excellent! You came a lot further than I'd expected you to." He came closer, so close that it was painful. Eon strained against the solidified glue but couldn't do anything. Instead, he voiced his rage in another manner. "Why!?" Vanderbelt seemed bored as he made a circling gesture with his finger, making all the guards pull out their air-tasers as one. Gavin levelled a single smile at him. "Because I could." He brought his finger down and Eon's consciousness went in a flare of horrific pain and contractions.

Eon woke an unknown amount of time later, stirred out of unconsciousness by a strange sensation. He wanted to move, but couldn't. His arms were tied tightly against his chest with a reinforced straitjacket. He tried moving his legs instead, and his toes and fingers, but he found everything restrained without any slack. The anger was still there, but suppressed by an overwhelming haze of medicinally induced lethargy. Then he became more firmly aware of a sense of suction that would've been pleasurable in any other circumstance. He strained and found himself capable of raising his head slightly. A device was attached to his erect member, pumping steadily. The barbs set on his pink tip were already extended in response. He could feel the tension build and struggled against the violation as best as he could manage. The sensation intensified as if the device could somehow sense his resistance and wanted to overcome it. The extensive restraints made his struggles seem pathetic and weak despite the sheer will to even accomplish moving at all. He only managed a faint growl as his head shifted from side to side. Higher up, behind and observation window, Gavin Vanderbelt looked down on the scene, his protégé next to him as he always was. A sense of pity welled up inside Gregory's mind. "Why don't you just keep him knocked out? This seems unnecessary." A cold smile flashed across Gavin's features that chilled Gregory to his bones. "Because he needs to learn who's in charge." His hand reached for a button and pressed it. Instantly, a well-placed electric shock sent the muscles of Eon's groin and underbelly into convulsions. He would've yelled and roared against it if his body would have let him, but a faint groan was all he could muster in his weakened, medicated state. His seed spurted into the device and it was instantly drained away by it. Eon gasped against the surges of the forced orgasm, straining ineffectually at his bonds. A sense of further deepened apprehension welled up inside him when the sensation didn't stop, and wouldn't let him slacken. "He should manage at least two more batches of material today. Make sure we get it. Any word on the next stage of the project?" Gregory cleared his throat. "Yes, we have rounded up some females, all nobodies. We weren't sure if you wanted to try the same Animal-DNA treatment on them before..." Vanderbelt shrugged. "On some, yes. Not on all. We're scientists, we should experiment." There was a short silence. "Of course, Dr. Vanderbelt." Gavin nodded and hit the button on the console again, provoking another pitiful groan from the subject, before walking away. "Make that a few more and he's done for today, I think." Gregory shivered at the cold detachment. "Yes, sir."