The Doctor.

"The end is near..."

In darkness of soul and blackest night
Beauty fails to escape his sight
With wicked scythe and evil grin
Their flesh is his; their screams a din
Lurking among the dead and dying
Beware the Doctor; his lips are lying.

29th August, 12.00pm
I see them.
I hear them all, scurrying and fretting and skittering to the next destination in their schedules, not out of any sense of duty, but of necessity. To feed themselves, and their families.
Me? I am only one drop in an ocean of people. And the ocean won't care if I take one drop, will it?
Just one drop...
As if decreed by fate, I see my victim. She isn't my first, but she is certainly a greater item than the last I had. I see her red hair shimmering in the sunlight, her lithe figure stride across the streets with ease. Truly an item worth having.
She will be mine. Soon.

30th August, 01.37am
I saw her walking home among the lanterns. Safe among the light, but no more as she turned into darkness to head to safety. What she doesn't know is that the darkness is mine.
And I wield it
as a cloak
to keep me hidden.
Slowly, surely, I crept towards her, scythe in hand. My heart thumped in my chest, but I inched closer. Her footsteps tap out a nice rhythm; interrupted by our encounter. She pauses, afraid, indecisive - more than enough time for me to swing my scythe. I looked into her eyes as she died in front of me. I saw dreams, hopes, aspirations and goals that will never be attained or reached. A shame. But she now serves a greater purpose.

30th August, 03.05am
Such exquisite material to work with! She has been as promising as her looks suggest - a bountiful source of flesh and tendons. A shame there aren't more people like her in this swollen city, but I am certain that there are more out there. Their sinews are my rope, and their flesh is my clay to shape and mould into my own beautiful creation.
A frightful mess has been made of the remains - what am I to do with them?

2nd September, 21.27pm
20 tendons
164 fragments of bone for skeletal structure
8 spoonfuls of marrow
1 spines, 6 (single) vertebrae
1 hip
1 skull, still need brain
3.5 liters of blood
Need more sinews

2nd September, 1.57amA beautiful specimen lies silent in the cage - a blonde this time, thankfully muted now that she knows there is no escape. I always wondered by humans do that, why they fight when they know that hope is lost. Baffling.
Unlocking the cage door, I took her by the arm when she tries to charge me, but her blows were faint and her resolve more so. Sighing to myself, I grabbed her head and broke her neck. That snap... goodness, I love that.
She's so fragile. I must remain more calm in the future.

5th September, 11.34am
Rainy day today. Not many people out - they're all indoors, sitting by the fire, laughing, enjoying themselves.
I only wanted her back. Why was she taken from me? What have I done to deserve this?
I do not know - but she will be reunited with me in time. I just need more ingredients.
I need them now.

5th September, 18.05pm
New prey for the harvest.
A sloppy affair - after the first had been dispatched, the second had screamed and screamed. She screamed until I cut her throat, and then she too fell silent. I regret that I was only able to take one of the women before the sirens came and the authorities gathered.
Never mind all though, I guess one is better than none. I was close to being caught; I cannot become so careless.
But she... she is so close to completion. I cannot fail now.

9th September, 20.47pm
The moon is so bright tonight.

She died under its glow. And under its glow will I bring my love back to the realm of the living.
Everything is assembled, and oh how it fits together! She is perfect. A paragon of perfection.
She died too soon. All these deaths, murders, whatever the ignorant will call them, they are all little stepping stones to my ultimate goal. Now, me and my love will be reunited, and no longer will we be torn asunder.

9th September, 00.00am
My God, what have I done?
She is not what I wanted. Her voice is rot, her body a ruined patchwork of skin and red flesh. All of my work, ALL of it, is failure and ash.
I cannot face her. I cannot face anyone anymore.
As I write this, I hear her banging on the walls of the adjacent room. Begging, pleading, screaming - I can't bear to gaze upon her form.

It is time for me to go now.

Source of image: https://twitter.com/LakenAQW/status/505947976385462272/photo/1

Under the Roots.

"An outcast, an outlaw..."

Under the Tree: NidhoggUnder the roots
Of Yggdrasil mighty
Darkness reigns supreme
No light there shines
No beacon, no sight
Only silence and darkest night.

Yet further still
There lurks a monster
Hungry, awake, and imprisoned
Trapped underneath
The bars of the tree
Where serpents wind and sleep.

An outcast, an outlaw
So great, yet fallen
Evil and vile to the core
No honor, no love
Quiet, yet raging
And living in midnight eternal.

Horrific monster?
or damnable beast?
Chains imprison the wyrm
Though not with fire
And not with guile
Will Malice break free of his jail.

Instead upon the roots
Does the fell beast gnaw 
Feasting on life and fear
The smaller beasts cower
And the gods remain ignorant
Of their fortress crying within.

Though great branches touch the sky
And ancient roots stretch deep
Nidhogg stays his wrath
The beasts are his food
And life is his drink
Down here in the under; he is death from below.

Nidhogg image source: https://tobiasmastgrave.wordpress.com/tag/nidhogg/

Eater of Worlds.

"Scales tough as diamond..."

Eater of Worlds: Jormungand
Under the silence of the deep
There rests a darkness foul and profane
Slumbering tight in endless sleep
All who could oppose it now broken and maimed
One single heart beats slowly through the ages
Eyes of the beast still shut
Though eons may pass and mankind still rages
The hunger of the Beast - for now - remains glut.

Two orbs of fire shine through the abyss
A monster awake and alive
To feast on the world and on mortals' bliss
Even the gods cannot survive
The earth is afraid and men are the prey
Of the ungodly beast fast as an arrow
Rending metal like straw and stone like clay
The beacon of man falls into shadow.

Rippled coils unwind and shake the earth
The mountains broken and cities drowned
Fire and ash beget unholy birth
The beginning of the end - salvation never found
As the people weep at their broken world
A presence makes itself clear
One lost voice will at last be heard
That of Jormungand; bringer of Fear.

Gods will be slain and oceans shall boil
Yet not even they can outlast
The Serpent that holds the world in its coilsAnd when it lets go, peace shatters like glass
Though thunder and lightning may best the snake
Its venom will fell the last divine
Mjollnir will tumble, the ground will quake
And monsters and legends fall into the brine.

Source of Jormungand image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Jormungand-182144813

The Ceremony.

"I am Abaddon, but I have many names; seducer, abuser... destroyer."

Where am I?
Now awake, I open my eyes and attempt to survey my surroundings. However, some presence, some influence keeps me in place, preventing me from rising. Fear rises within, and my heart continues to beat faster the more I move about my position. Struggling and straining against the unknown phenomenon, I find that to my horror, I am bound to a small stone altar, and no matter how much I writhe, I find that my efforts are in vain. Looking up, I can see the reddened sky, the sun still shining as it begins to dip. To my left, I look down at an endless chasm, sinister yellow fog rolling and chundering within, sometimes even spilling up the rocky walls. The sight is same to my right, but in both cases I could see the fog shift within certain spots, as if there unknowable things lurking under the evil ocean.

"Enjoying the view?" asked a nearing voice.
"Who are you? What do you want with me?" I replied.

Answering neither of those questions, whomever spoke strode towards me, footsteps getting louder until at last, he stood above me, peering down with a wicked grin. The man was roughly the same height as me, wearing a nondescript blue robe fit for a man of worship, save for the small crimson pentagram upon his chest. He was perhaps forty years old, grey stubble and shallow wrinkles betraying his age, and upon his hands there were burnt small ovals, each glowing dimly with unknown energy. Upon his waist, he had a plain leather belt with various pouches, but what drew my attention the most was a small sleek scabbard, and within, a curved fit for carving... or gouging.

"My name is not important. What I will do and your purpose here, is." said the man.
"Do you know what lies sleeping underneath this valley? Of course you don't - you are young, too young to know of what once walked upon the earth before our race stood for the first time.
I was once like you. Naive, foolish.. and ignorant of the horrors that still stride in the darkest depths and the highest mountains. Perhaps ignorance would be the preferable state of mind - but fate had other plans for me. You see, I heard Him. I heard His voice speak to me when the night was at its peak and the trees were hushed. I heard His plans for the world and how He would carry them out. But to do any of that, He needed help. He needed a human agent, an agent to find someone, anyone, and bring them to this altar for His ascension. Only then would He rise once more into the world of men."
"Is he a god?" I asked.
"Not a god... a demon. And you shall be his first offering."

Struggling once more, I attempted to free myself, as the man withdrew the knife from his scabbard. As I tried to free myself, it seemed that he was almost mocking me, knowing he had all the time in the world as long as I remained bound. Withdrawing his knife, he readied himself to plunge it into my chest, but I had other plans. Lurching suddenly to my left, keeping the altar between me and him, I broke free of my bonds and fell down near the cliff's edge, mere inches away from falling into the depths below. Hearing the knife slam down onto stone, I saw my chance. Charging at him, I jumped onto the altar and tackled him to the ground, causing the knife to skid away from the both of us. Swinging a hard right, my fist impacted flesh, yet he was unfazed. Soon, it was him that was in control, and as he readied a bolt of arcane magic on his right hand, I grabbed him and pushed him against the altar, giving me space to reach for the knife. Leaping towards it, I manage to grab it, but my small triumph does not last long as the hooded figure hurls bolts of fire at me. In one fluid action, I skirt to the side, only just avoiding both fireballs, before attempting to stab the foul sorcerer straight in his chest. Instead of impacting him, the knife hits thin air, and before I could turn, I was impacted by a fireball, knocking next to the altar with the energy taken out of me.

"Any last words?" sneered the sorcerer.

Before he could ready another spell, I tripped him up with my legs, causing him to fall face first onto the altar. As he lay dazed, I managed to pull myself back onto my feet, when he soon began his offense. Throwing a wayward punch, he drove me back a few steps, before I sent him sprawling onto the stone shrine once more. Lying on his back, he gasped in shock as I drove the knife into him, holding on like a madman possessed. After a few seconds passed, I withdrew, the blood spurting out and pooling on the floor. Bleeding out, the sorcerer managed to utter a few last words before he died.

"What - What have you done?"

He would never get an answer to his question, and soon the life faded from him.
Before I could turn to leave, I could feel the ground rumble under my feet. Soon the rumble grew into a tremor - many tremors in fact, and as I struggled to stand, an almighty silhouette rose out of the yellow mist, towering over me as if I were only an ant.
Looking up at it, I was utterly, completely dwarfed by the menace this sorcerer had helped to raise.
A mountain stood in front of me, awakened and angry. Rotting, slender legs supported a heaving, rattling chest; upon its left there was present a foul turquoise heart, shining with a phosphorescence both appalling and alluring. Veins carried ichor from the heart and into the arms, reaching the hands and illuminating small elliptical shapes along the palms - similar to those upon the late sorcerer's hands. Great angelic wings stretched out from the beast's back, both as dull and bleak as the yellow fog of the canyon below. Its fingers were tipped with wicked claws, each one longer than a grown man was tall. Atop its head, two great horns stretched into the heavens, both crooked, twisted instruments of death and destruction. Yellowed teeth clicked and clacked as five red eyes shone through the mist, beaming red light shining upon the now-crimson altar - only for them to shift their gaze to the dead body upon it. Raising one palm, the slit upon it opened, revealing a bulbous eye that shimmered in the manner of a flame. Looking into that eye, I could see many things, horrible things too profane and unholy to describe, yet if only for an instant it was not me that stared into the eye; the eye was the one staring into me. Soon switching focus, the eye turned to the sorcerer.
The body rose into the air, the same turquoise energy that powered the daemon's dead heart now streaming from the dead man into the beast itself, withering the fresh corpse in a matter of seconds. Soon enough, the body was dropped to the floor, withered and desiccated beyond recognition. Those same red eyes now turned towards me.

"At last... I am free." said the daemon.
"I am Abaddon, but I have many names; seducer, abuser... destroyer. You were never the one to be sacrificed - I needed the soul of someone ready to give their life for me. Now I am free, and ready to return to the waking world once more.
Thanks to your efforts, you are the one who has at last freed me from eternal imprisonment - that is no small feat. Just this once, I will allow you to run from the end of the world as you know it.
If you do not... pain will be the absolute least of your worries."
"I am not afraid of you." I said.
"And I will stop you, no matter the cost."
"Hah!" 
"I am older than oceans and greater than mountains. I am the Insurmountable.
I have conquered kings and broken heroes, shattered hopes and swallowed dreams; there is no one, living or dead, that can dare to challenge my might!
Your bravado will prove to be your undoing. For many, many years, I have remained imprisoned, shackled by those too ignorant, too fearful to realize that change is inevitable. Someone has to be the harbinger of a revolution - and I am that, and much, much more. Now, I cannot be stopped. I will not be stopped. And before you know it, all that you know and all that you love will become that which you walk on... dust."

And with that, the daemon's wings unfurled to reveal their full, overwhelming might. Beating downwards with the sound of thunder, it shot up into the sky before setting off, bloodthirsty and vengeful.
Feeling the ground rumble once again, I was knocked back by a sudden, horrifying emergence. I was even more shocked to witness incalculable shapeless shadows flit out from the fog and into the skies, only for me to realize they were not shadows; they were the demon's own wretched spawn, ravenous and ready to scour the earth of life. Though they were small, they were numerous, and their screams blotted out all other sound, to the point where I could not hear myself think.
The onslaught did not stop, and it seemed that with each passing moment, more of these would pour out from hell's mouth and into the waking world.
Father, what have I done?

Source of image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Demon-Ceremony-Final-377000184

Malady.

"I soon realized that I was not alone."

The month of November is unnaturally bleak. Even though it is the month before festivities begin and the whole world is alight in celebration and goodwill, November has always been associated with cold and melancholy, with death and misery - and this year, misery had come home to roost.
He hadn't seen it coming. No-one foresaw it, and no-one could have seen it anyways, for this was something that seemingly no one had experienced before. It had begun with fever, which could have easily been attributed to a simple infection. But over time, the symptoms had worsened. Dark blotches grew around his eyes, with black tendrils rolling down the face in the manner of tears. Soon, his skin was pallid, a deathly shade of white that was scarily reminiscent of a wraith rather than a human. His hair grew brittle and his mind more so, his personality eroded until he could scarcely head out of his own house unless for essentials. It was merciful when he at last passed away, yet with his peace, none of us could figure out just what had struck him. I kept such thoughts out of my mind for the time being as I approached the open coffin, peering at someone I would never see again. His features were more relaxed this time, the tension in his muscles and the worry in his face all gone, and had he been living I presumed he would have smiled at such an occurrence. Dressed in his best clothes and peaceful at last, save for that unpleasant shade of skin, he was at last ready to depart - but of all people, why him? Why take my closest friend away?
Leaving his side before any tears fell, I took my place at the nearest seat to listen to the eulogies prepared by his family and friends. It was what anyone would expect from commemorative speeches - praises of his success in life, comments on the friendships he built, even a few childhood memories from when he and I were young, but none of those memories could take away from the fact that my friend was gone, and nothing would change that. No matter what I thought at the time, I was in grief, and no eulogy, no matter how moving, could shake me from sadness. There were sobs, tears, whispered condolences and unsaid words, but all throughout, I was silent, listening intently to every word so as to gain some measure of solace, to know that I was not alone in this ordeal. But it was not to be.

The hours passed by faster than expected; the casket was closed, and one by one, people filtered out the grounds and headed home, perhaps eager to move on from this as quickly as possible.
I stayed by the freshly-dug grave, even as the sun above began to wane and dip into the horizon, rushing in the early hours of twilight once it was fully under. It was good to be alone for once - I noticed that without outside eyes to peer, I was relaxed and able to say my goodbyes without fear of judgement.
I soon realized that I was not alone.
Behind me, I could hear muted footsteps - a distinct pattern not belonging to any beast or mongrel dog, but to a human. The sound remained in the distance, yet I still remained unnerved.
What was this sound?
Who else was in here with me?
Acting as if nothing was wrong, I said my goodbyes and turned briskly towards the nearest exit.
Behind me, I heard those footsteps increase in intensity - and they were heading toward me. Soon I broke from restrained walk to a swift sprint, running away as quickly as I could from my would-be pursuer. Even as I gained speed, so did my menace, keeping the same speed but also their distance, almost in the manner of a lion hunting gazelle. Twisting and turning among the gravestones, apologizing in my head to those I had stomped over in my haste, I made for a nearby bough of trees, hoping I would be able to hide from my pursuer there. I would be proved wrong. No matter how far I ran, the presence would always home in on my position, and I would be forced to escape the concealment of the trees and make my way towards the nearest exit. Nearing the gate, I at last would be safe - until it suddenly slammed shut, barring me in with my hunter. Faced with no other option, slowly I turned to meet my pursuer. What I saw was not what I was expecting.

The figure stood two to three inches taller than me, gaunt and lean and wiry. It donned a robe of leadened grey, giving it the appearance of some unhallowed reaper. A wide featureless hood hid its face from prying eyes, leaving only shadow where its face would normally be.
Moving down thin arms, I noticed its hands were not those of the living - they were skeletal and sinister in form, little strands of bleached flesh keeping them together. I could feel an aura of menace and anger, of misery and melancholy around whatever stood before me; not even the normally boisterous birds dared to chirp out their song - as was fitting for a place of mourning, all was silent.
I was unnerved by the being before me, and before I could properly think, the figure slowly strode towards me. Rushing forward, I charged at the white wraith, hoping to take it down to the ground. Though I was successful, it was able to react accordingly, and soon threw me back against the gates with unnatural force, knocking the vigor out of me and preventing me from taking immediate action. Slumped against the bars of the gate, I could do nothing in my current state, only remain slumped against the gate as the hooded thing drew closer towards me. With the breath knocked out of me, I could only watch in horror as it extended out a hand not towards me, but my throat, clenching tightly and lifting me from the floor with ease.
Holding me in mid-air, I at last glimpsed the face of the being; and never had I been more shocked.
"No... this cannot be. What have you done?" I asked.
"He is no more, and I have taken his place." said the figure, before its eyes shone with a sickening red. All at once, I could feel the life being quite literally drained from me; in an instant, I was wasting away before my own eyes. As decades passed by in seconds, I could only let out a small gasp as I was dropped on the ground, this time never to get up at all. Looking up, I looked back into the face of this malevolent creature; a face that was a warped reflection of my dead friend.

Source of image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Reaper-416759404

Physeter.

"A geyser of blood spraying out..."

Why do you persist?
Why do you and your ilk insist on hunting me as if I were some prize to be gained?
It does not matter how far I swim, for I tire and your wooden beasts are able to make the distance. Nor does it matter how deep I swim, though I can reach depths far beyond you or any of your kin, in time I must return to the surface for a gulp of air; and that's when you strike.
Your fleet encircles me as sharks would, the vessels' paths converging towards one position; mine.
Some of them possess a bulk as great as mine, with great masts stretching upwards into the sky, armed to the greatest extent, whereas beside them, the most foolish of men row straight towards me, even though they are dwarfed by my size.

Weakened from fatigue, I cannot prevent the onslaught about to occur.
Gunshots fill the air, bullets thudding into the sea and into me, leaving little pockmarks where they embedded themselves. The loud roar of a cannon overshadows all for a moment, before its deliverance falls wayward, striking the water several feet to my side.
Positioning yourself to my side, your men stand upon the railings; some in awe at what they chase, others growing wary and hesitant. Even so, you let out a cry, and the men attack. Teeth of steel bite into my flesh, and though they may be little wounds, blood still sprays and I still scream in agony. Lashing out, my tail smacks straight into the side of your ship, sending splinters of wood flying in all directions, crippling your vessel.
Your men panic, but still they shout, still they dig their steel into my back, and still they cut my blubber.
Writhing, I dislodge few, but the damage is already done - somehow, I wriggle out, only to be stopped by a painful sensation in my back. Looking back with dim vision, I can only make out several tendrils buried in me and leading straight back to your ship.

Clever; you've kept me in place and prevented me from leaving - or so you think.
Once more, my fluke is a hammer, smacking upon your vessel, cracking and splintering wood, letting the ocean pour in and drown you and all those by your side. Again
and again
and again
I continue.
Until, at last, your vessel is no more than dead weight by my side, the pieces crumbling as they sink into the depths. The ropes fray and one by one, they break, freeing me from your vice.
I feel your ship sinking down, slowly but surely swallowed by the hungry ocean
Swimming free, I turn. I cannot dive, I am too weak, too tired, too drained to move as quickly as I would want.
Cannot think
Mind muddled - and then it was too late.
I am surrounded - I try to dive down, but the pain is too much. From within, my organs bleed, and the effect that has is very noticeable. Slowing to a crawl, I breathe out, a geyser of blood spraying out onto the water, spreading further out as the seconds pass by.

And now my eyes close. Before I sleep, I can feel the blades once more cutting into my flesh, cutting out chunks of meat and blubber. My oil you burn; even as it slicks the floors of your ships, your fire consumes the last drops, and that which is not burnt, you take for your people.
My vision dims. My jaw hangs without vigour. I choke on the blood that once flew through my veins.
Pumping out blood by the gallons, my heart falters and sputters for the last few seconds of my life, until at last it gives up the fight, and I am no more.

Watching from the depths, a lone whale watches its mother drift listlessly on the waves, torn into by small silhouettes distorted by the light.
Falling back into the darkness, the watcher looks once more before turning away, now alone in the midnight ocean.

Source of whale image: http://www.antiquemapsandprints.com/books/WHALING-BULLEN-1899.htm

Opthalmo.

"Looming above in the manner of some insane watcher..."

"...the Pole Star, evil and monstrous, leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like some insane watching eye which strives to convey a message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." ~H.P. Lovecraft, Polaris

It is often that I pause once the night takes hold, to momentarily look up at the night sky and gaze at those distant stars so far away. Through my telescope, I watch the stars burn about their positions among the constellations; Circinus broods and skulks evermore, dull and dim along the darkness, murmuring yet never able to escape being outshone by the great and awesome light of the other celestial bodies.
Harmony in the skies must surely be brought about by ancient Libra; her stars sluggishly scudding along the heavens, though none are as bold, as present in the sky as the Pole Star itself, looking down upon the earth in the manner of some farthermost eye, ferocious and searing even as it and its galactic cousins spin around their own axes, drunken and oblivious to the plight of fleeting mortal life.
Minute spheres of radiant light, so blissful and detached from earthly musings and goings-on, carry a certain allure that nothing here can fully capture - alone in the sky, the stars go about their own lives, burning and spiraling as dancers whose stage is infinite and unchanging; the only pinpoints of light in a nothing so tenebrous and desolate. It was uneventful today, and the peace of the night comforted me somewhat out here. To observe the stars and catalog my discoveries fully, I had situated myself atop the murmuring hills where the stars grew unnatural, several miles out from the city of Gnosis, for thought its community was asleep, I would rather not deal with whom scurries about in the night or any hapless wanderer looking to ask what I was doing out here, in a time when most would be curled up in their beds. Solitude I found here, and here I would be undisturbed by any prying souls; I was alone and free to observe the outer realms for as long as I wished, and for a time, nothing was out of the ordinary.

For a time.
It had only just hit midnight, the chirping of the crickets fading and the birds falling silent with the odd cry here and there. Moonlight illuminated the trees here, their dark gnarled branches reaching upwards with crooked hands in the manner of a beggar lunging out for a coin. A cold wind blew through the surrounding forest, the trees shivering and murmuring in response, bringing a certain unease to my attention, but that did not matter. I was here to catalog stars for a presentation I had to present in naught but a few days, and time was of the utmost essence.
Pointing my telescope back up into the heavens, I once more glimpsed the stars hanging above - in a sense, they provided a certain comfort out here in the cold, for their positions in the night sky were the only constant I could rely on, out here or anywhere else, and so it was to my surprise that the light shining down upon the land was added a new intensity, shining brighter than before yet unable to match the light of the sun.
Peering up, I could now see why and was astonished at the cause; a new presence had made itself known in the sky, and it took a most frightening shape!
Luminous and distinct, this new celestial body held close appearance to a human eye, save for certain distinct details, though unlike the Pole Star, this presence was comparable to a nebula and was larger than many of the stars in the night sky, approximating the size of the Moon as seen from my own terrestrial perspective. The sclera of the eye shone a vivid shade of red, faintly flickering in the manner of a flame, enveloping a thin titian iris which encapsulated a large blue pupil at the center of the nebula. This pupil however, lacked color at the center, and looking at the core of the presence I saw nothing, not even the stars behind this curious eye; only a vast black maelstrom swirling and undulating with movement akin to some monstrous midnight ocean. I was in awe at what I was seeing, and if I was the first to document this...
Too giddy to think, I went to reach for my pen and paper, eager to write down what I was seeing, when the star unexpectedly pulsed with energy, a halo expanding outwards from the center in a flash of alien light and fading as soon as it arrived. This happened thrice soon after, with successive halos exploding out from the center in similar fashion and dissipating just as before, the eye still looming above in the manner of some insane watcher, thrumming with movement and yet its gaze still focused intently on the earth. Had I been a narcissistic man, I would have said the eye was gazing... at me.
Shaking such thoughts from my head, I moved from my position to better observe the eye, when to my surprise, it shifted in my direction. I could feel its gaze upon me, and I took a moment to laugh at the irony of the situation - the observer had now become the observed. My skin grew warm and my heart quivered in my chest, growing from a muted rhythm to a thumping portent shouting, begging for me to run. I was excited and yet also fearful of what would happen, but I could not hide a growing curiosity within me, as to my recollection, there had been no celestial object known to exhibit such incongruous behavior, nor display such an eerie luminosity among the stars and galaxies of the sky. Whatever this was, it may be some hitherto-unknown star, perhaps a flung-off galaxy; or perhaps something wholly unknown to the limited reach of mankind's instruments, and all I knew for certain was that it acted unlike a star and instead more like a being.
If that was the case, then this is certainly life as we do not know.
I was enraptured by the coruscating eye and its awesome motions, so much so that had I not returned to my paper and pad to note down further details, I may not have noticed the soft footfall behind me. Turning around, I saw nothing, and immediately returned to writing, assuming that the noises were the result of some wandering woodland animal trying to find its way. The footsteps began their distinct rhythm once more, and resisting the temptation to turn around, I vainly attempted to identify the source of the sound through hearing alone, which was thankfully heightened further in the near-silence of the midnight country. From what I could discern, the footfall was reminiscent of some bipedal creature, and yet had there been a human here, I would have seen them when I had previously turned. Frozen with fear, it took the greatest of strength to turn even a modicum to the source of this growing sound; it was at this point, I realized that the footsteps were coming from multiple directions, meaning I was either undergoing some auditory hallucination, or there was more than one presence out in the darkness. Darting to and fro, my eyes failed to spot anything in the fringes of the forest, so it was to my shock that once I mustered the courage to my back, what I saw was frightful enough - and unimaginable enough to cause me to utter a scream I had then thought inhuman. Stepping backwards, I hadn't even hit the ground before my vision faded to black.

Only the mutterings of psychedelia could describe what I had seen in those brief seconds before I fell unconscious, and even then I was not confident that would be adequate enough for full conceptualization of the figure beheld by my eyes. I cannot possibly find the words to bring shape and form to this entity, for it mocked those very concepts entirely in the brief instant I laid eyes upon it. If I could describe it adequately - and even then any approximations from myself or from a foreign observer would be wholly inadequate - the creature resembled a possibility, what could have been yet never was... or perhaps, what already is.
Paralyzed and unable to move, I lay on the ground for what seemed to be an eternity, those demons' footfall thumping louder and louder, the same figures circling around not unlike predatory caracharodonts toying with wounded prey before they went in for the kill. But the killing blow never came, and rather, I could only lay helpless at the mercy of such beings as they tortured me with visions and knowledge no mortal mind should ever know. Cities burning from their insides, eldritch beings skulking in the earth's farthermost reaches, death and destruction on unimaginable scales, yet despite all this, I had soon begun to lose the distinction between reality and fiction. The only constant in all this was that strange kaleidoscopic eye, overshadowing all other stars as it gloated happily in the midnight, burning its way into my psyche as it gazed into places I had thought safe from outsiders. Had I been dull of mind, I would have reasoned that the eye was reading through my own innermost secrets, attempting to find out more about this earthly being just as I had done to it not long ago. Now though, that certainly would appear to be the case, no matter what I say to comfort myself.
Without warning, the demons that haunted me grew silent before walking away, their footsteps deadened and silent by the time their voice ceased their assault upon me. As if it had grown bored with its new plaything, the malevolent eye let a final glorious halo exude from itself, before slowly dissipating to the point where it may as well not even have existed in the heavens at all.
The sleep that had fallen over my limbs was no more, and as I got up I was certainly relieved that these foul things were no more, yet still I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched from afar by some unseen force, and the coming days would not be kind to my paranoia.

Even after I had left the site and was back in the murmuring town of Gnosis, my fear grew into suspicion and eventually, aggressive hostility. I warned people - begged people not to go to the murmuring hills where the stars grew unnatural, but they would not listen. For my troubles, I was placed in the town's aging asylum as my health deteriorated and my obsession with this invisible watcher grew to the point where I was soon placed under the influence of blissful nepenthe, and at last I was quiet. And yet still I was troubled within by this strange presence, yet the shape it took was all too similar to me - scorching flames forming some maddening, malevolent eye burning in my mind, watching me from its perch in the black seas above.

H.P. Lovecraft's Polaris: http://www.dagonbytes.com/thelibrary/lovecraft/polaris.htm
Source of star image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Space-Art-Helix-Nebula-324852426

The Nothing Man.

"In the darkness of dreams he lived..."

It is often said that during a man's life, his life and opportunities are defined by his actions.
But what of his dreams? Rarely do we pause to consider the impetus for change lurking within our own conscious, toiling and laboring away from prying eyes to provide visions of a kind never before seen - shared by all and yet unique to one only; the dreamer himself.
It goes without doubt that dreams, though nepenthe they may be, are fleeting and disappear as quickly as they arrive, leaving behind the smallest of dissociated fragments from which to piece together what happened - or to be more accurate, what was imagined to happen. Men blunder and grasp at the ether with mortal tools to decipher the meaning of these singular experiences; in childhood we wallow in realms imagined, limited only by the power of imagination and creativity. In time, the outside finds a way to slowly but surely grind away at our passion, our drive, our thoughts, dulling man and woman with the prosaic, the tangible, that which can be seen and felt and heard and proved to be real. We scoff at our dreams, never once realizing just how powerful they can be, instead clinging to a reality our own five senses struggle to conceptualize and form and bring into a shape most pleasing and most comprehensible to our own minds.

Once, many years ago or perhaps even mere days in the past, there walked upon the green earth a man for whom the poison of human experience had not yet become manifest. His name was Nothing, and his features unknown, for never did anyone record any impression of him, nor did they have any need to, for he would be wandering from city to country, from town to village, from new to old, never once remaining in one place for more than he needed. His clothes were of a most peculiar demeanor, and it was evident that the man carried incalculable age - yet his peculiar tongue and wandering visions indeed led people to shy away, so much so that the man was more often than not left to his own devices to go about his merry business. When he spoke, he spoke not of current affairs, nor of any topic the twittering people would indulge in. Rather, he told the people of the realms unexplored within their own minds - the beauteous lands uncharted by any explorer or found on any map, realms which anyone keen of mind could access and wander in for interminable spans of time. His words however, were not heeded, and rather than acceptance, he found only derision and scorn from the ungrateful masses, who jeered at him for his fantastical imaginings, finding him and his proclamations too fanciful, too idealistic for such a world as theirs.
He lived in the darkness of dreams and the light of imagination, for the real world held no promise for him, and its inhabitants he found too capricious, too brooding and mercurial to ever understand what he spoke of. Within his heart, he held hope that even a few would listen to what he had to say and join him in his reverie, leaving behind their worries and entering a realm many brushed past without ever considering its significance. Not one soul listened, and as the days rolled on and as seasons changed radiant summer to subdued autumn, and once more to dead winter, the man faltered in his step, his detachment from society growing and growing, opening a chasm so wide he soon believed himself unable to ever convince the ant-minds of the blissful cities unexplored, unfathomable empires at the service of those willing to envision and look beyond the squabbles and worries of their pale blue dot.

He was alone in his musings, he realized, for not one single spirit had joined him in his quest to capture that innocence, an innocence lost once the malignancy of mortal existence sets its hideous tendrils into the hearts and minds of all human life. Seeking much-needed comfort, soon he slumps into into dreams once more under the influence of ataractic opiates, seeking the joy which remains oh so elusive in the corporeal world.
The dreams are nepenthe to him - a balm against the sorrow and tragedy of reality, yet also they are his downfall, entrenching him further and further from those who would reject him and even those who would join him. In time, he was truly alone, as no longer did he walk the land of men; he walked among stars and danced with the divine, the pleasures of this world and the radiance within defined only by the limits of his
vision and the zenith of his senses. Roaming along melodious gilded fields of gold and silver, diving in murmuring opiate oceans of limitless color, and soaring in susurrating skies truly endless, there was no sight too humdrum nor a pleasure too lackluster in the land of endless sleep; a singular land belonging to him and him only.
Whenever he was roused from slumber by the prying hands of corporeality, his opiates grew in strength, and for longer he dwelt more in illusion after illusion to avoid all that would harm him and all that would worry him. This cycle of awakening and dormancy, the battle between the physical and psychic worlds waged on, until soon his precious sedatives failed to manifest and now for many an age, he was trapped in the grey of hideous life, confined by the chains worn by so many before him and the countless after he too fades away from terraqueous existence. Attempting to conform with the world he had for so long defied, he could not find anywhere that would take him, anyone who would love him; or anytime to walk back into the lands he had been denied, and even though he would still dream as before, his experiences lacked the color, the hue... the life which had been present in his reverie and step for as long as he could remember, and all came off as tawdry imitations of a splendor far greater than he was able to visualize.
Beginning his journey, this time the man did not stop at any cities, nor at any towns; instead he kept walking, down winding roads and gnarled woods, over curvaceous hills and lapping rivers, into the wild expanses that still lay beyond
Arriving in a field of feldgrau to meet equally bleak skies, turning around, he could see a singular tower stretching up, but never quite reaching the scudding clouds above its own height.
Initially, he felt confused, wondering whether this was truly real or just another wishful imagining, and all he knew was that he felt a strange compulsion urging him, beckoning him towards the top and onto the balcony present. Without hesitation, he ran into the tower, ascending the stone steps with greater bounds the further he ran upwards.
Before he knew it, he had arrived upon the balcony - yet nothing happened.
Disappointed at first and downright disheartened a few moments later, he prepared to disembark down the stairs and away from this place, when it was at this time that he heard a certain shimmering above his head. Looking up from his position, the man was in awe as the skies above coruscated with the very sights he had once seen in dreamless days and endless nights; a veritable bevy of all he had once loved and still longed to touch, to feel... to behold.
Luminous angelic stars and shimmering constellations shone across the once-grey sky, the eyes of Andromeda glittering down and filling him with child-like awe and wonder, the very emotions which had eluded him in his adult, mortal life. Murmuring around him rose to an almighty crescendo, harmonious unseen seraphs singing all the praise of the known and unknown earth without pause or needless inflection. Colors known and colors unknown flooded his vision, and all throughout he certainly could feel himself no longer bound to the earth and instead dissipating into the empyrean currents of wanderlust he had fleetingly rode upon under feeble narcotics, and it was now that he knew he would be safe, free from mortal quandaries and free to pursue the fancies of his secondary, disembodied life in an ethereal, eternal realm that would exist for now and forever more so long as the ant-minds who mocked him still had breath to give and dreams to live.
Now he was gone, and at last, out of reach.

Once, many years ago or perhaps even mere days in the past, there walked upon the green earth a man for whom the poison of human experience had not yet become manifest. His name was Nothing, and his features unknown, for never did anyone record any impression of him, nor did they have any need to, for he would be wandering from city to country, from town to village, from new to old, never once remaining in one place for more than he needed.
At long last, after years of toiling in transient life, he had ascended towards the stars of his own ecstasy, enraptured by a beauty only he could behold, now within the cities and streets where dreams live and sleep.
No living soul had known of his visions, though a few babbling folk may have glimpsed the motionless body of who appeared to be a vagabond, lying below the crumbling balcony of a once-proud tower.
Though his corporeal shell lay broken, it did not matter, for his name was Nothing, and it is now that he dances in midnight skies, living in the dreams he once could only imagine.

Picture of silhouette: http://phoenixstamatis.deviantart.com/art/Storm-Silhouette-75785688

Incident In Nevada: Chapter 4.

"Overcome by ardent rage..."

It was three in the afternoon when two lone guards surveyed the outside of the Augmentation facility from their lone watchtower.
It was a dull, if not utilitarian structure: its tall and imposing physique allowed the guard to survey the vast span of desert than surrounded the Augmentation installation.
For them, the job was as dreary as always - nothing to be seen for miles round, save for grey, desolate stretches of land and clouds of silver that loomed over their heads like the guillotine of old.
Ash rained down in sporadic bursts from the sky - sometimes a mild shower, other times, a perpetual tempest, akin to the sandstorms of Egypt, powered by the wind, buffeting buildings and people alike.
It was not a nice place to be, but someone had to do the job.
"Just wish it wasn't me..." said Guard 1.
"What do you mean?" inquired Guard 2.
"Well, to be honest, neither of us likes this job, do we?
I'd rather be doing something helpful, like guarding those Birthing Vats or standing by when a patient is about to get upgraded - not here gazing out over the land." Guard 1 replied.
"True - but without a lookout, who's to say that someone could sneak in and report the location of this facility to the enemy?"
"Perhaps you're right." Guard 1 said, his mood now lightening a little bit since the beginning of his shift.
"Now let's - wait a moment, what is that?"
Both guards were now looking at a distant silhouette on the horizon, clearly humanoid in form, yet remaining inert; almost as if it was looking for a way into the compound.
The silhouette transfixed both men, shifting on its feet before slowly ambling towards the tower, fists clenched.
"Should we notify our superiors?" asked Guard 1, his mood now tinged with slivers of fear.
"Not yet, let's - Good God, it's coming towards us!"
The last sight both men saw was a Cyclopean beast of enviable proportions brings its claws-that-should-not-be down onto their watchtower in a wide downwards arc, shattering stone & flesh and announcing its presence to the facility.

The watchtower now a ruin, I ambled towards the sturdy doors I had been led into all those years ago.
It felt good to be finally fighting back - that little vestige of humanity that Augmentation has tried to stub out still remained, and now only one thought clouded by mind like the cloying ash of the landscape:
Vengeance.
I was going to slash and cut and rip and crush everyone and everything involved with this damnable project - this tainting of the human conscious. Nothing - and no-one, would be spared my wrath today.
Approaching the doors, I tapped them with the tips of claws, and lo, the metal did not part as easily as previous opponents. Finding the fissure where both doors meet, I grabbed at both doors and pulled outwards, my muscles stretching and straining with the effort, arteries thick with blood bulging and becoming ever-so-visible to the naked eye. Pulling and pulling, I at last open a minute fissure into the facility. Within, I can see the same men in white coats who monitored me, who stood by my side with stern expressions and clipboards at the ready; now the scenario was much different. The tables were turned, and all they could do was run in horror.
Good.
Emboldened by this development, I strain further, prying the doors apart, until at last, I form an opening big enough for myself to fit in. Now I get to work immediately, flicking men and women alike across the room with but a move of my limbs. The men in black who guarded me with blank expressions fire away, their bullets impacting onto hard muscle, but failing to make any impact - regeneration rendered their efforts fruitless. With firearms now dry, I stride towards them with striking alacrity, sweeping my limbs like one would a broom, clearing out the rubbish and dirt and displacing it to one side. Their flesh splits like clay under my claws as I slash their fragile bodies apart. One does experience a sort of sadistic pleasure when fighting enemies that are weaker than oneself; if there is a comparison to be made, it is that they are the ants and I am the boot, ready to crush any who dare stand up to my rancor. It frightens, yet fascinates me at the same time - harnessing this could prove beneficial to the destruction of this Plutonian project, this defiling of the body of Man.

Striding through corridors, knocking aside any obstacle to the realization of my goals, I enter a large room and at last see those execrable structures - the Birthing Vats.
Reserved solely for the mass production of Augmentation-addled citizens, these vats churned out super soldiers by the day - at least, when the researchers simply could not be bothered with safety procedures.
The Augmentation Project was so much more dilapidated than I, or any outsider, had ever realized.
Early interactions between man and technology proved to be abject failures, resulting in either immense pain to the subject involved or the creation of monstrosities foul - pitiful beasts that belonged in the darkest corners of the imagination.
Overcome by ardent rage, I lash out at the thick glass of the Vats, sending cracks spiraling and dancing in all directions. Nevertheless, despite the dull pain emanating from me, I strike with my aching fists, gouging deeper and deeper until I am swept by a fluid indescribable. The foul concoction exuded a most profane stench, and resisting the urge to gag, I repeated the due process with several of the other Vats.
I knew there were people still inside, still undergoing Assimilation - leading me to drive a claw straight through their skulls, ending their misery and ensuring that they are not doomed to lose whatever little was left of their humanity. My carnage was interrupted by ever-persistent gunfire, only dwarfed by the alarms ringing out all across the installation. Soldiers spread out across the room, firing and firing and firing at me, hoping to at least make a dent in my progress. Charging at the present platoon of soldiers, I sent them into all manner of garish positions as they flew through the air like rag-dolls. One soldier threw himself to my feet and began foolishly carving away with a hunting knife, of all things. I tentatively picked him up, watching him struggle for a few short seconds, but not before reducing him to pulp underneath my feet.
Disgusted, I turned and ran into the heart of the operation, ready to bring an end to this madhouse of terror.
Or at least I was, right up until one titanic figure crashed into my side, sending me reeling into a Vat.
As I got up, clutching my wounded side, I looked at this new opponent.
He - or she, possessed many of the same attributes as I; strong arms, considerable muscle on the abdomen and chest, with legs capable of outrunning the fastest of men.
The only difference between me and this Frankenstein's creation was the addition of two jagged, metallic arm blades atop the creature's lower arms. As my eyes moved to inspect these closer, the beast struck my side, and it was only through a combination of instinct and luck that I managed to avoid the worst of the blow, suffering only a shallow wound to my side.
Now my turn to attack, I grabbed a shard of glass from the floor; ignoring its effects on my hand, I slashed at my opponent, inflicting all manner of injuries upon the chest and face, before embedding the shard within the beast's thigh.
Roaring in vain, the beast charged forwards, plunging one arm blade straight into my chest.
I stopped, took a moment to evaluate my position, and struck the extended arm with all my force. I repeated this process several times before the inflamed arm that had struck me separated from its master in a shower of crimson glory. My opponent fell backwards, slipping on the ever-growing pool of blood beneath its feet, scrambling for shelter. Wresting the arm from my chest, I grab the creature by its ankle, and bring my foot down upon it; I feel the cracking of bone and the severing of vital sinew as flesh gives way beneath my feet.
Immobilized, the creatures makes what appears to be a plea for help - a cry of submission.
"It's too late now. I'm... sorry." I said, bringing down my fist onto the creature's disheveled face.
Over and over and over I continue, turning its head into a bloody stump, and only when the creature ceases to be do I stop.
I am not overcome with the ecstasy I experienced earlier - rather, a shadow of regret looms over my conscience. This person, this thing had a life before. Most likely, they had family they held dear, friends to laugh and joke with... maybe even a partner to call their own.
I shake such morbid thoughts from my head. Whatever this person's past life was, there was no hope of attaining normality; not for me and not for anyone here.
With heavy heart and lowered mood, I head back to where it all began.

I do not remember much of what happened next.
A flash on gunfire, the footfall of foolish men beneath me, the thud of my fists as I killed, eviscerated or downright maligned those in my way.
Barring the doors, I rest myself upon a wall, inspecting the gurney I was once one with.
It has remained the same as always - stained with tinges of blood, leather straps still in place. No longer.
Bringing down my fury onto that malign object, I crush its nimble frame and throw it to the side, watching it crash onto a wall and fall with little grace onto the floor.
For a damnable instant, I ponder what will become of me?
Will I truly succeed in my objective?
Have I secured my freedom?
Or just hastened the end?
No time to think - the power source for this entire bunker lay in front of me, thrumming and humming with incalculable power.
One wayward blow - enough damage caused, and the entire compound would surely crumble inwards, collapsing into cleansing fire below. I would not survive, yes - a small price to pay for the betterment of mankind.
As I stood to deliver the final blow, three men entered the room.
I turned, ready to crush them beneath my wake, but there was something about their leader that rung in my mind, an alarm ringing through all the ages and all the memories I had still managed to keep intact.
"Don't do this, Jones!" shouted the Agent, his gun pointing at me.
Yes, I remember now - the man standing before me was the very Agent who visited me all those years ago, back when I was still in control of my faculties.
My hand lay extended, hanging over the power source, ready to deliver the killing blow if needed.
Before I could do so, though, the Agent spoke once more.
"Listen to me, Jones!
I know there's a part of you that can still understand what I'm saying, so listen carefully; I am offering you the choice to have your Augmentation implants removed.
You no longer have to murder anyone - your humanity can be retained, I can assure you!" he pleaded, his voice no longer permeated with authority, but with fear instead.
Silent, I remained for further innumerable seconds as I weighed up the options in front of me.
His offer of prying away the Augmentation implants was indeed alluring... but whatever humanity I once held, I lost a very long time ago.
I am a shell; a broken facsimile of my former self, and it would be folly to begin to repair the damage done to both body and mind.
Inhaling fresh air into my lungs for the last time, I swung my claws - and the world turned black.

The Agent and his team now stood over the dying behemoth, securing the area and ensuring the safety of everyone within.
"Jones, you made the wrong choice." the Agent muttered, his words heard by no-one but himself.
As he strode over to the fallen giant, something peculiar happened.
The once calming blue screens of the computer monitors that regulated the reactor's condition now flashed crimson red, and the whole installation shook and trembled with the sound of distant explosions.
"What is the meaning of this?" shouted the Agent, only for him to be interrupted by a most impossible event, as an eldritch voice rang out across the entire facility.
"Agent, did you really think that my plan would die with me?" sneered the voice.
"You have but only postponed the inevitable - your doom is imminent!"
As if on cue, further explosions wracked the installation, bringing chunks of mortar and rock down with them. Fire alarms ran out in vain, and the entire building shivered, as if fearful of what was to happen next.
"Who are you?" said the Agent, but before he could get an answer, he was buried under a mound of falling rock as the installation fell apart, the last sound he heard before hastening to his death the final words of Subject Epsilon-202.

Source of fire image: http://www.news.com.au/world/pakistan-base-under-attck/story-fn6sb9br-1226060786116

Incident In Nevada: Chapter 3.

"Devoid of what made me human, I strode forward..."

Once more, I am dragged from my bed, taken to my gurney for the last time.
No longer do I object, no longer do I fight back; the protocol inside me prevents me from doing so.
Several men in black watch over the proceedings as I am strapped onto the accursed stretcher, my limbs pulled taut as the cold, binding straps are locked in order to keep me in place.
"Are we ready for the final phase?" shouted one voice.
"Yes - let the Assimilation culminate." answered another.
Once more, the needles plunge into my now-glistening skin, plunging into rippling cords of newborn muscle.
The machines do their dirty work as the needles retract, repairing, rewriting, replacing; stripping me of my humanity in some president's foolish quest for perfection.
Bone is strengthened, imbued with metal and materials unknown in order to increase its endurance.
Blood is pumped full of platelets, ensuring quick coagulation of wounds.
The mind is once more appeased, intellect rising and humanity decreasing.
Limbs extend, now holding up tense, lithe muscle dense enough to deflect the most grievous of blows.
The heart itself grows stronger, pumping blood faster, thrumming a now unnatural rhythm within my chest.
My outward appearance began to change drastically, beginning first with the tinting of the skin, now an inflamed pink hue which hides bars of muscle coiling around dense, light bone.
My face - oh! It was not recognizable as that of a human being anymore all warped and twisted beyond all recognition, with not a hint of its progenitor form. I could not bring myself to look at what I had become or at least I would have had I had eyes - just one of the many senses that Augmentation took away from me.
The process continued for hours, until at last, the protective shields raise, and the machines that operated on me begin retracting.
The procedure finished quicker than expected, and as the machines begin to slumber, the collective group of white coats and men in black take a few steps back as the straps are loosened and I tower to my full height.

Inspecting my reflection, I note down just how I now resemble a mocking parody of Man himself - a beast of nightmares, a demon of myth.
Tall, thick legs exuding some unknown substance are towering pillars of flesh, leading upwards to an abdomen intertwined with ropes of thick, strong muscle. The chest above rattles with my wheezing, melodic breath, expanding and contracting as life-giving air pours into this walking corpse; inside, the heart beats defiantly, almost as if it too knows of my fate and yearns to escape. Both arms, once humanoid in appearance, are now the stuff of nightmares - the bleached, pink skin covering over all previous scars. Downwards they travel, leading to hands that-should-not-be, yet they are, the fingers reduced to three long, narrow claws - not fit for creation or any of the more noble interests of life; these were designed to kill, and kill in the most agonizing way possible, piercing flesh, drawing blood and leaving the wounded to die in their own pitiful state.
As I shifted, I could feel artificial tubes piercing into my back - these, of course, I remembered that they were attached to a nutrition pack that would keep me nourished as my body adjusted to the Augmentation technology's forceful rewriting.
The tubes snaked into my flesh, just below the slender, yet almost swollen neck that held aloft a fish-tank of a head, my brain bobbing in the middle, suspended by some hitherto-unknown fluid. Whatever it was, it seemed to have ameliorative effects on my psyche - the nothingness that had plagued me was replaced by dull, yet inviting, comfort, ensuring my full co-operation.
Yet the most striking - and horrifying detail about this was that now, I was no longer recognizable as a human. Of course, the people in here would know of my past, but the enemy and my own people would not - all they would see was a towering abomination, filled with the blood-lust of man and the calculating mind of a machine.
After a few silent seconds passed by, I was guided to the outside world, the faint hiss of electric prods behind me keeping me moving. I reached those same doors I had walked through all those years ago and passed into the outside world - and at once, I recoiled from the sunlight, my skin almost hissing. Only when I was prodded and pushed did I possess the strength to come back out, out into the blinding sun, and afterwards I did manage to overcome the burning sensation I was subject to. My excitement waned as I was herded into a rather large, but cramped holding pen, where I was to spend my time until the vehicle reached its destination.
Inside, I was left to wander the halls of my mind, searching for memories of my past, but coming up holding nothing worth of value, just as I had done many years before without success.
Who was I?
I asked myself that very question so, so many times, and it is possible I would never know the answer.
Perhaps I did once - but no longer. My thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the holding door, and as the men in black gathered outside, I knew it was my cue to step back into the same world further torn apart by war and conflict.
As I stepped outside, I saw a broken land.
Instead of sunny blue skies, grey sullen clouds stretched for miles around, their by-products being the showers of ash that left the earth a rather uniform shade of silver.
Instead of the humdrum of ordinary life, or the melodious rhythm of belligerent traffic, I heard bombs falling and exploding on their targets, the screams of both friend and enemy ringing out.
Tanks and artillery beat out their own rhythm, their shells cascading upwards, only to blight the landscape as they delivered their deadly payload, leaving behind naught but shallow craters and crimson stains.
My mood (or rather, what was left of it) now lowered, I turned and looked at the very men who surrounded me, and they only said one phrase.
"Show time."

Devoid of what made me human, I strode forward, mind and muscle both yearning to be put to use.
Surveying the landscape for a few short moments, I found my targets almost immediately - an enclave of enemy forces mowing down anyone who dared approach their position with both gun and artillery fire.
Passing the husks of both man and machine that had failed to do the job, I strode forward like some Lovecraftian entity, covering several meters in the span of several seconds and ultimately greeted by a hail of lead and explosives. Rather than kill me, as part of my conscious had hoped, much of the damage caused had already begun to heal, and obeying the commands set down in my head, I began to kill.

Kill!
Kill!
Kill!

That was the only thought on my mind as the claws bequeathed unto me impacted flesh and broke bones, their numbers innumerable. All I could hear at this point was the screams of the wounded and dying, and were I a man of lesser fortitude, I would have perhaps collapsed and fallen into melancholy so deep, I would be unable to be roused from my morose slumber.
But I am no man - no man at all, so I kept hacking, kept slicing, kept fighting until at last, the enclave was broken.
My job done, I searched for my next enemy -
And then the tank shells impacted, followed by more staccato bursts of gunfire. Knocked to my knees I was, if only for a moment; the gaping craters the shells formed were coagulating at a most efficient rate!
My claws, the claws-that-should-not-be, cut through steel and heavy armor as easily as a knife would through butter, rendering machines immobile and inert in moments.
"Keep firing!"
"What is that thing?"
"Shoot!" "Shoot!"
Their cries rang out, all swiftly silenced by my claws as I raked their numbers down and down, disfiguring and dismantling all in the name of my nation.
Entire platoons of battle-hardened men were sent running, running away from me; whether that was due to my battle prowess or my most hideous countenance, that was yet to be seen.
As the enemy parted and the battle came to a fitting end, my figure drooped and sagged, shaken by ragged, tumultuous breaths, and had I had any semblance of emotion left in me, I would weep.
I would weep, for the families whose fathers I had destroyed, for the people who would not get to see another accursed day, but most of all, I would weep for myself, and the monstrosity I had become.
Alone on the silent battlefield, the void inside began to fill, not with anything material, but with a great, furious anger, ready to be exacted on my oppressors.
You see, they may have implanted orders into my brain, but to increase my effectiveness on the battlefield, I was given my greatest weapon; the ability to think.
Now, that may not seem like much, but keep in mind that each individual with Augmentation implants could not be truly controlled; only submission and extortion kept them in line.
No longer.
I was going to fight - not for my nation, not for promises of a united land, but for my freedom, and for the freedom of those imprisoned inside the facility.
With clear mind and purpose, I returned to my holding pen, and before the agents standing guard could say anything, they too were nothing more than bloody pulp on my hands.

It is my turn to exact my terrible vengeance on the tyrants that have kept me in chains and locked me away from the outside world.
Only victory or death will quench the blood-lust that permeates my very being; until either one or both happen, I have one goal only.
Kill.

Source of bio-mechanic image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Newborn-Biomechanic-253568116

Incident In Nevada: Chapter 2.

"Digging deeper and deeper, taking me apart..."

"The government has played the role of creator.
They have meddled with the body and created beings profane - mockeries of mankind whose only purpose is to kill and to serve, kill and to serve.
I am one of those mockeries. I wish I had known the full ramifications of my choice all those years ago when I said "yes".
Now I march ever forwards to my doom, unable to stop the events I had set in motion.
May the fates have mercy on me."
~Subject Epsilon-202

                                                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                                                                   
*TOP SECRET*
*FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY*

This report documents notable past and ongoing Augmentation experiments within the Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and Epsilon facilities.
So far, we have met with varying degrees of success, as listed below.

                                                                                                                                                                   

*AUGMENTATION: SUBJECT ALPHA-436 - ANALYSIS*

.Study of Subject Alpha-436 has revealed to us the challenges faced when attempting to augment and improve pre-existing structures within the human body.

.When Augmentation technology was forcibly implanted, Subject Alpha-436 underwent massive hemorrhaging and experienced near-total organ failure.

.The damage that Subject Alpha sustained is irreversible; our best facilities cannot possibly repair the subject and get him ready for another test.

.Eyewitness reports indicate that upon introduction of Augmentation implants, Subject Alpha suffered serious injury within 20 seconds of Assimilation, sending him into convulsions and eventually shock as the implants attempted to meld with bone and flesh.

.The pre-existing immune system rejected Augmentation implants and sent much of the body into inflammation, preventing integration between man and machine and destroying much of the tissue involved.

.Skeletal structure remains intact, but much of the muscle and epidermal tissue was destroyed in the initial experiment.

Recommendations
.Further developments of Augmentation technology is required - in its current state, it is unfit for the process of Assimilation and will only bring more harm to future test subjects if used in its current state.
.Future subjects must be sedated before introduction of Augmentation implants - if awake, there is a higher possibility of the body rejecting implants and resisting Assimilation.

                                                                                                                                                                   

*AUGMENTATION: SUBJECT BETA-112 - ANALYSIS*

 .Study of Subject Beta shows slight improvements over previous tests - still facing little success with integrating external technology with the human body.

.Subject Beta was sedated for this test, and Augmentation implants underwent Assimilation for 40 minutes this time - a significant improvement from the previous 20 seconds.
.The subject was not as grievously wounded as before, but the body did still reject Augmentation implants and much muscle tissue was left in disrepair after failed Assimilation.
.Organ failure occurred midway through Assimilation - Subject Beta-112 is now defunct as a result.
.Augmentation implants are still causing damage to pre-existing structures within the subject's body.
.Respiratory system shows improvements.
.Muscular disintegration could not be prevented - Augmentation implants are currently doing more harm than good.

Recommendations
.Still we need to further develop the Augmentation technology - we need to ensure that future subjects do not suffer damage or go into shock as a result of Assimilation.
.Introduce Augmentation implants gradually - do not begin Assimilation instantly.

                                                                                                                                                                   

*AUGMENTATION: SUBJECT GAMMA-32 - ANALYSIS*
.Subject is faring well - so far, the body has accepted Augmentation implants.
.No signs of internal hemorrhaging.
.No signs of organ failure.
.Condition is stable - further developments will be documented.
.Augmentation technology has successfully integrated with pre-existing structures within Subject Gamma-32's body, enhancing both mind and physique.
.Subject Gamma-32 has been improved significantly - her body's immune system is capable of fending off any disease, and her blood possesses a red blood cell count significantly higher than that of a ordinary human being. Intelligence has been boosted significantly as well, allowing Subject Gamma-32 to create detailed strategies for battle and adapt if needed.
.Subject Gamma-32 now displays strength only previously achieved via means of an exo-suit; she is now undergoing training, learning how to use the Augmentation technology within her in battle.
.No recommendations required - progress is as expected.

                                                                                                                                                                   

*AUGMENTATION: SUBJECT DELTA-59 - ANALYSIS*
.Subject has undergone numerous changes, none of them good.
.Augmentation implants have had drastic effects on anatomy and physiology of Subject Delta-59.
.Body has swollen, and muscle tissue has become more viscous.
.Intelligence has greatly decreased - no avenue of communication can be established with Subject Delta-59.
.Subject Delta-59 can no longer communicate, all that can be heard from his Birthing Vat are wails and all manner of eldritch noises.
.Strength has increased tremendously - large dents have been left on the Vat, and in one instance, Subject Delta-59 came close to breaking his Vat.
.Near-total muscular breakdown has occurred - as mentioned before, Subject Delta-59 has entered a state that can only be described as gelatinous.
.Subject Delta-59 is capable of movement - his limited intelligence however, gives him little value other than to serve as cannon fodder.

Recommendations.
Discover just how Augmentation implants have created such... abnormalities within Subject Delta-59.
.Exterminate and dispose of Subject Delta-59.

                                                                                                                                                                   

*AUGMENTATION: SUBJECT EPSILON-202 - ANALYSIS*
.Tests still ongoing - progress is slow but good.
.Positive enhancements - physiology has been altered and improved upon introduction of Augmentation implants.
.Subject Epsilon-202 has become more compliant to orders.
.No rejection of Augmentation implants.
.Internal and external resistance has been crushed - no signs of defiance shown.
.Assimilation is still ongoing - Subject Epsilon-202 shows promise.
.Anatomy shows significant improvements - red blood cell count has risen alongside cardiovascular endurance.
.Immune system strengthened.
.Subject Epsilon-202 shows high intelligence - Augmentation implants are truly beginning to take effect.
.Body has not gone into shock.
.Subject Epsilon-202 is stable - nothing has happened to change that.

Recommendations
.Monitor Subject Epsilon-202 further for any major developments in his physiology.
.Proceed with Assimilation protocol.

                                                                                                                                                                   

*END OF REPORT*

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

It has been two years - or perhaps two days after that fateful night in which I was snatched from my abode and subjected to Assimilation.
The pain - oh the pain! It has been one of the only things I can remember from the past.
Having your body slowly disassembled by a threat you cannot even see, then reassembled again - such an experience has left me broken both inside and out.
Metaphorically speaking, of course - besides my bruised mind, the Augmentation technology has truly improved upon the framework of my body.
I am stronger than the most stalwart of fighters, owner of a mind that matches many of the great thinkers of the last century or so - all thanks to Augmentation.
At what price, though? For all these benefits to the technology, I can note many, many drawbacks.
It would appear that day by day, my ability to question and to inquire is reduced significantly.
Should Assimilation continue, I fear I will be no more than an automaton, obeying orders not out of respect, but out of compliance and the comfort of conformity.
Emotion is slowly but surely drained from my psyche - all that's left now is a growing void that no man, not myself, can fill alone.
It is possible this project will be the end of me, and the beginning of someone - or something else.
There is not I can do now but dwell in the corridors of my mind for the few brief moments I still have before I am fully conquered and defeated. My reverie was interrupted by the men in black, as I am once more dragged to the gurney.I struggle and scream and shout, all in vain, of course; not many people can hear you once you're several miles underground.
Strapped to the apparatus once more, I am, and the procedure begins anew. As expected, the needles bore into my arms and legs, just as they had done before. My limbs fill with sensations of growing restlessness, soon giving way to what can only be described as unending agony.
My voice is silenced, and all I can do is lie motionless as the pain grows and grows in its own frightening crescendo, the Assimilation continuing to take its toll. For what feels like an eternity, I am on that gurney, and I can feel every move, every slice, every cut as these machines slowly disassemble my body and put their own improved parts in place. Digging deeper and deeper, taking me apart cell by cell, the machines at last move past the muscle and into the bone. I can feel it.
This - this is a pain no man should experience. I tried to scream as my very skeleton shook and trembled under the guise of modification, the machines strengthening the bones, but at the cost of inflicting indescribable, incalculable pain.
In a sense, I should be glad - euphoric even that the basic human physiology was being modified and improved, but I knew then and I know now that all that was being achieved was the slow, methodical unraveling of whatever dregs of humanity I still possessed.
Once the procedure is finished, I am taken back to my room, and now, I do not struggle.
I remain quiet, even as they open the door to my white prison and place me in my bed, tucking the duvets over and departing swiftly.
It was a lie - all of this was a lie. The promises of the Assimilation were nothing more than lies, lies designed to get willing volunteers to participate in the desecration of the human body.
This isn't the next phase in human evolution - this is man playing at being a creator, meddling with body and mind in order to form something "better".
Only it isn't better, is it? Not when every new addition, every modification leads to you losing a little of what makes you human, and the person you are becomes a figment of your imagination, replaced by an unthinking, unfeeling machine, destined to carry out the orders of a heartless, desperate government.
I should have seen that all those years ago - but it is all too late now.
Only now do I allow myself to cry - at least, if I was still human.
Instead of sorrow, I feel nothing - apathy incarnate.
Nothing can hurt me now... but nothing can make me better either.
Soon, my time will draw near - soon I will undergo the final Augmentation and be deployed out on the battlefield to fight the enemy.
My only remaining hope is that some foreign platoon riddle my body with bullets and gouge out flesh with explosives, granting me a way out from this hell.
Glorious death is infinitely preferable to the automaton's existence.

Source of augmentation image: http://darukin.deviantart.com/art/Human-Augmentation-363184768

Incident In Nevada: Chapter 1.

"Do not fear; you are the next phase in human evolution..."

What day is it?
I can never remember the days in this facility, only the certainty of more and more tests being conducted, more men and women in white coats with clipboards coming over to glimpse me and note down their findings to the upper echelons of government.
My name - well, my designated name, anyways, is Subject Epsilon-202, and I was one of 2500 people chosen for a top-secret project, hidden from many and known only by few.

My story begins on 14th September, 2075.
It was a cold, bleak morning that day - then again, all days seemed bleak back then.
I sat down to watch the TV: nothing much had changed in the past few days.

"Record Storms In Asia"
"Invaders Take Colorado!"
"70 Killed In Crossfire"
"Chemical Attacks On Capitol Ongoing"

"UFO Sighted in Kansas!"

Nothing much had changed at all. As I flickered through the channels, searching for something to watch, I heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" I called.
"Secret Service. We need to have a little chat with you." came the reply.
My heart skipped a beat. What were the Secret Service doing on my door, of all the doors they could have knocked on. I leaped from my seat, and keeping my nerves in check, I opened the door.
As the door as fully opened, I took a moment to glimpse the men.
The one directly in front of me was roughly my height, dressed in black with arms at his sides.
His face was featureless, with only the visage of stubble on his chin and a pair of glasses concealing his eyes serving as the only noticeable features.
His cohort was roughly the same, save for his right hand holding onto his holster - presumably a precaution should I do something wrong.
"Hello gentlemen, what is it you need?" I asked tentatively, not wanting to make a wrong move.
"We need to discuss some matters with you, Sir. Sensitive matters." the man in black said, his voice remaining in that dreary monotone.
"Come in, have a seat." I said, and as my sentence ended, both men entered and promptly sat down near the kitchen table. I followed suit, and before I could open my mouth to ask the questions that were burning in my mind, the first man spoke.
"Mr Jones, we know you must have a lot of questions right now, but they will have to wait for later.
This is a matter that not many people, not even those in government, know about."
"W-What are you talking about?" I asked.
"You have been considered for a top-secret project hidden underneath the Nevada desert.
The details of this project are in this folder - if you accept my offer, you are free to look through it.
If not, then we will be on our way and you can forget this ever happened." he said, his voice glowing with that unmistakable tang of authority.
"What is it you need?" I pressed.
"Have you ever heard of trans-humanism?" he asked.
I had heard of trans-humanism before, but never paid it much thought - the idea of deliberately manipulating the human body in order to improve it seemed like a scenario plucked straight out of science-fiction, something that could not be achieved up until a further hundred years passed.
"I have heard of it - why do you ask?" I said.
"Trans-humanism is the aim of this project.
You have been considered for the Augmentation Project, a project which if successful, could radically alter the physiology of an ordinary human being and turn them into a super soldier.
We know you have had some combat experience before, which is why you have been considered to undergo radical Assimilation procedures and become one with the Augmentation technology our scientists are hard at work refining."
"Wait - Assimilation? Augmentation?" I said. My mind buzzed and burnt with even more questions than before, but before I could reply, the agent issued an ultimatum.
"You have two choices; either say yes and be accepted into the next phase of humanity, or say no, and we'll be on our way and you'll never have to hear from us again." he said, his tone remaining low and monotonous.
I remained silent for a moment as I weighed up both options.
On the one hand, I had already experienced war - I had no desire to go back out there and murder in the name of my country, but at the same time, many of my fellow brethren are being slaughtered en masse right now, and my conscience dictated that I could not simply stand by and do nothing.
After letting a few more seconds pass by, I looked at the man, and said "Yes, I am willing to join the Augmentation Project", my body trembling with shivers of adrenaline.
"Perfect." said the man. Here is the folder - feel free to read through it as we travel straight to the facility.
Both men got up and headed for their automobile, with me following suit close behind.
As I headed inside and the engine purred beneath my feet, I took a moment to realize that whatever Fate had in store for me, there was no going back now.
I opened the folder and began reading the files.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

*AUGMENTATION PROJECT - BRIEFING*
If you are reading this paper, you are just one of 2500 people chosen for the top-secret Augmentation Project, an initiative designed to meld both man and machine together, creating a battle-ready hybrid with the strengths of both and the weaknesses of none.
Here is what to be expected upon arrival at the installation.

1.) You will be placed into either one of 5 groups - Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, or Epsilon.
Each group will contain 500 members, and upon entry, you will be addressed by your group name and number (for example, if you are handed the number 303 and you are in group Alpha, your designated name will be Subject Alpha-303).

2.) You will be guided to a solitary room with all manner of supplies required: food, water, clothes, all provided free of charge for the duration of Augmentation testing.
No contact is to be made with relatives - we simply cannot afford for the location of this installation to be revealed to our enemies abroad.

3.) Augmentation testing can vary depending on the individual. It is possible some of you will be tested upon arrival, others may be considered for Assimilation in several months' time. Whatever the case, always obey your superiors and do as you are told; disobedience is not rewarded.

4.) Augmentation implants work by first latching onto the muscle of the individual involved.
Then, using nano-meter thick injectors, minute nano-machines are injected into the muscle, where they will begin to rewrite the body's structure on a molecular level.
The process can vary depending on the individual, but the whole thing is painless and possesses no adverse effects.
This entire process is known as Assimilation, which will be described further below.

5.) Once the Assimilation process is complete, you will become stronger than ever before.
Intelligence, speed, strength - all these attributes will be boosted immensely by the Augmentation technology, and you will learn to master your new gifts in special training camps far away from here.
Once your new abilities are mastered, expect to be deployed in battle almost immediately.
Do not fear; you are the next phase in human evolution. You will succeed!

                                                                                                                                                                   

*ASSIMILATION - WHAT TO EXPECT*

The Augmentation technology we have here will be fused to your body, improving pre-existing structures in a process called Assimilation.
Here are the steps involved:

1.) Introduction.
Augmentation technology is initially introduced to the body and attached to all major limbs.
From there, nano-machines are injected into the muscle tissue in order to begin their work.
As the nano-machines spread out, there will be minute pain - but it will quickly subside as the robots reach their destinations.

2.) Rewriting.
This is by far the longest process of Assimilation - the nano-machines previously injected are now rewriting your body's muscle tissue at a molecular level, improving and enhancing muscle alongside other structures within the human body.
Organs will be dramatically boosted - cardiovascular endurance and physiology will be drastically strengthened.
The skeletal system will be edited, so as to create bones which can withstand the most staunch firepower.
Arteries and veins alike will dilate slightly, with red blood cell count increasing threefold.
The immune system too, will be enhanced, with phagocytes and lymphocytes being boosted to the point where they will be more than able of fending off foreign invaders.
The respiratory system will now be able to extract more oxygen from the atmosphere, and filter through air should Augmentation Subjects come under chemical bombardment.
Pain receptors will be dulled, and senses such as sight and hearing will be boosted beyond current capabilities, making you a force to be reckoned with.

3.) Elevation.
Augmentation technology does not simply make one stronger - it also helps strengthen the mind more than previous processes.
Nano-machines travel upwards to the brain, but instead of rewriting it, they strengthen existing links, repair any faults they find and boost intelligence - allowing for Augmentation subjects to formulate plans on the battlefield and outsmart their enemies in moments.
At this point, the body is placed into stasis within a structure known as a Birthing Vat for several days - allowing the Augmentation technology to modify the body at a much faster rate than before and provide the body with the nutrients it needs to function.
The Birthing Vat can used for upwards of 7-9 days for one individual, and when that period is over, the now Augmented subject is take back to his room and left, so as to allow the body to become used to these new adaptations.

4.) Culmination.
Now that all the major structures in the body have been improved upon, the nano-machines enter hibernation, and retreat deep into the body.
Both organic material and Augmentation material should be interacting freely with each other, without any adverse effects whatsoever.
Assimilation is now complete.

5.) Regeneration.

This final phase occurs should the enemy damage you in battle.
If you suffer from grievous wounds, the nano-machines will come out of hibernation and begin repairing your wounds, boosting your already-high regeneration factor.
Coupled with the gifts bequeathed unto you by the Augmentation technology within you, you will not only be unstoppable, but you will mark the next phase in human evolution - a phase that will serve as the vanguard for continued research into trans-humanism.

                                                                                                                                                                  

*END OF REPORT*

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

As I finished reading the files, I tucked them safely away back into that brown folder, and my body filled with both excitement and dread?
Were these agents really telling the truth?
Did the Augmentation Project possess any drawbacks?
All these and many more questions lingered in my mind like bad memories that refused to be shut out, until at last, the car slowed to a crawl and the engine was muzzled.
We had arrived. I and the agents got out from the car. and my eyes rested on the lone structure in front of us.
To the untrained eye, it would appear to be nothing more than an over-sized pillbox, but I knew better - this was the installation the agents told me about.
"This way." said the Agent, pointing to the entrance.
I was led straight into the compound, whereupon I was placed in a queue with several other persons.
Each were silent, awaiting their turn to be given their designated numbers.
The plaque above my queue read "Epsilon"(at least I knew which group I was in) but refused to divulge any more information; I was left waiting for what felt like hours, the only noises being the tick, tick, tick of the clocks and the sporadic drum beat of footsteps drawing near, then retreating.
At last, it was my turn to near the desk, where I met a lady of the most diminutive countenance; her demeanor towards me and the others suggested she would rather be somewhere else, anywhere but here.
"Number: 202. Room: E202. Remember those." she said matter of fact, and I found myself being escorted to my room by one of the many men in black inhabiting this compound.
We both walked down a long, grey corridor, passing men in white coats alongside clearly mechanical personnel; as we neared my room, I could not help but feel my spine tingling and chilling.
Eventually, we reached my new residence, and it was then that the man in black said:
"Enjoy your new home. Remember - you are the next phase."
Those are the last friendly words I heard before entering.
The room wasn't too bad; there was food, water, a nice bed, a bathroom, and even a television.
Now, there was nothing left to do but wait.

Many days passed without incident here.
I had everything I needed to sustain myself, and for a moment, I was happy.
Of course, there were... incidents.
Rumors of patients undergoing irreversible trauma, Augmentation implants reducing people to naught but their primal instincts. I dismissed such rumors with a grain of salt - our government would not carry out such atrocities on its own citizens.
My outlook changed on one day, that one fateful day where I was dragged, torn from blissful sleep, rough hands and rougher men taking me to a destination unknown
I awoke strapped to a gurney, my limbs rendered immobile by several constraints, and surrounding me, were machines fit to plague the nightmares of the most staunch Luddite, with trenchant needles jutting out aplenty from these constructs. A protective, translucent shield lowered over the gurney and myself as men in white coats surveyed the situation.
Scream, I tried, but nothing came out save for muffled cries; my mouth was kept silent via the use of a leather gag. Writhe, I did, but a man in white announced:
"Keep still - it hurts less if you don't move."
"What on earth could he be talking about?" I thought, before a horrifying realization dawned;
They were going to begin Assimilation on me.



Source of DNA image: http://www.wakingtimes.com/2014/06/02/transhumanist-singularity-ultimate-escapist-agenda/