The Nemesis Program || closed with danielsbransonx
It was so difficult to get a sense of time or to learn what was being done to him when he could barely stay awake. The moment he showed any signs of movement or alertness, the men in the white coats would stick him with another needle in his neck or arm and make him sleep again. Maybe sleeping was better than being awake, for when he was awake he was in agony. His body changed shape, stretched, bulged, and twisted painfully. The right side of his head had been cut open and they had put something inside, but what it was or what it was for he did not know. They never gave him anything to help with the pain, so sleep was merciful. But if he never escaped from the laboratory, he would never make the pain fully stop. He had to escape somehow.
Nemesis. That must be his name. He’d never heard them refer to him as anything other than “the Nemesis.” He’d learned to remain still for as long as he could after he woke up and not to open his eye, lest the men in the white coats drug him again. Sometimes it was too difficult though, what with the pain and his unfortunately volatile temper. He could only take their abuse for so long before he had to teach them a lesson. He had pride after all.
It was the leader he hated the most. A man named Dr. Isaacs. He thought Nemesis was a research project, but of course he wasn’t. He was a person. Right? Nemesis never thought he was anything other than a person, and yet every time the man referred to him as a creature, he wondered. He’d never seen himself in a mirror, so… what if he wasn’t what he thought he was? That didn’t give this Dr. Isaacs the right to hurt him. He stayed quiet now that he was awake, for he heard Dr. Isaacs speaking about him. Who was he talking to?
“The creature is strapped to the gurney, and he should not be able to free himself. We keep him tranquilized, of course, for everyone’s safety. His vitals are monitored at all times by this computer here. What we are trying to do is perfect a soldier capable of withstanding far more physical damage than the average human being, and also capable of dealing far more of it as well. If the Nemesis Program is a success, this could eliminate the need for as many of our troops on the front lines in dangerous situations. With expendable yet durable and fully controllable creatures like the Nemesis, we could eliminate the need for human soldiers in the next decade. We have installed a AI system of sorts in the right side of the cranium, behind his eye. It will allow him to properly identify and assess targets, and once it is fully operational, we will be able to send him wireless orders via computer.”
What did all of that mean? There must be someone new here. Why else would he be prattling on like this? Nemesis tried to stay calm and still, but someone was tugging at the skin on the right side of his head… the raw, painful, tender right side of his head…
“Where I need your expertise… is to monitor his mutation rate and type, and to try and figure out if there is a pattern. If we are ever going to perfect and streamline the Nemesis into a fully deployable soldier, we need to keep his mutation rate stable. The T-virus has been revolutionary but also… unpredictable. We need to understand more about why it causes mutation and stable infection in some and yet… vastly different and fatal results in others. This is what you will accomplish for me. I would love to do it myself, but frankly I haven’t the time.”
Nemesis couldn’t take it anymore. Whoever was poking around on his head was causing him too much pain. His only exposed eye suddenly opened, and he looked to the man in the white coat that was messing with his head.
Nemesis suddenly lurched forward as much as he could with the straps holding him back. He bit the man’s neck, violently tearing his flesh. The man screamed, but at least he stopped touching his head.
“Get some more tranquilizers into him you imbeciles!” Dr. Isaacs yelled. “Watch his heart rate and his brain activity more closely from now on, we aren’t running a circus here!” he chastised.
Nemesis roared as someone approached him with a syringe, his large mouth opening wide with rage. There were a few men holding his head still now, and so there was nothing he could do about the needle that went into his neck. When they let go, he still felt fine. However, after a couple minutes, he began to feel groggy again.
“Clean that up,” he heard Dr. Isaacs say about the mat he’d bitten, who was now lying on the floor.
There was nothing Nemesis could do. He drifted off into unconsciousness again.
