``System error; subject seem to be immune to the solution. Data must be analyzed, before testing resumes'' said a disembodied voice coming from the ceiling; he expected to see a screen or visible ventilation shaft, but nothing of the sort was visible, as if he was trapped in a perfect cube, making him wonder how he was able to survive in such an environment.
Looking around, he wondered if there was something he would be able to use for a potential escape; perhaps if he would dismantle the bed, he would then possess a decent tool, one that would be potent enough to take down the door. All he had to do was to examine the frame of the bed, to make sure that this harebrained scheme of his wasn't going to fail...
Bending down, he saw that the structure was fused to the ground, making any attempt to take them apart futile; however, if he would have a blowtorch in his possession, then it would be a trouble of the past, for everything would be solved...
Perhaps it was the fear, the lack of real sleep or the chemicals that were getting to him, for he started to laugh, unable to understand why he was indulging himself in such a thing in the first place. This entire situation seemed so absurd to him, as if the danger was no more a concern; the fact that he was trapped here, in a facility with people that were trying defective serums on him was just too much for him to handle.
While he was laughing, he felt another sting, for whoever kidnapped him seemed to have taken advantage of his temporary laughing disorder to inject him with another solution. Turning his head around, he could observe the syringe retreat once more into the wall; would it fail like the first one, or would it actually do something to him?
Waiting for a moment, he expected the reagent to works its magic on him, but like the other one, it seemed to be a fluke, some sort of failure, once more. Perhaps this was a sign that although it was a futuristic facility, it didn't mean that they were able to produce efficient products.
He wanted to brag and laugh at them, for he was sure that nothing was going to happen to him; his immune system seemed too strong for whatever they wanted to inject him. Or was it really the case? He was feeling dizzy, as if something was wrong; perhaps he was bit too cocky for his own good, although it could be due to gas he inhaled a moment ago.
The injection wound was starting to be itchy, making him wonder what sort of substance that was travelling in his veins, fearing that an allergy reaction could be triggered if an element too foreign would attack his immune system.
Scratching it, he decided to look at the wound, to make sure that it wasn't infected; it would be quite terrible that he catch a disease in such a place, without being able to have access to anything to cure himself.
At the first glance, he knew that something was wrong, for the injection site didn't look healthy at all; it was red and swollen, as if his body was reacting to an aggression. He could feel the flesh in the area pulsating and throbbing, the blood carrying the pathogens in his veins.
Pressing the wound between his fingers, he could feel that the flesh was sensitive, making him wince as he tried to expulse the substance out, without any success. Cringing, he tried once more, only to stop when the pain overwhelmed him, forcing him to sit on the bed, massaging the area so it would stop hurting.
He could feel the area stinging and burning, as if he was having a fever; perhaps it was reaction to the chemical that was causing this, but for the moment, he cared about it. His head was spinning and his arm was now burning, as the sensation seemed to be spreading; pressing the flesh, he wondered if there was something he could do to stop it before it would be too late.
Written by zanian on 06 October 2014
The change begins