The Experiment

Flashing lights assaulted his vision, periodically changing from off-white ceiling tiles to disorienting florescent lights. His cold flesh twitched now and then as he stared apprehensively up at the nurse. Her arms were smooth and delicate lily-white, nearly blending with the white of her uniform, which clung tightly to her full breasts. He did not recognize this one. He eyed her warily, but she did not look down at him as she wheeled the stretcher down the long corridor.

The clicking of the wheels across the uneven white and green tiles on the floor seemed to vibrate in his bones. He wondered what was in store for him today. The Doctor rarely sent a nurse to fetch him, usually preferring a more 'hands-on' approach to the patients in D-section, especially when she had something nasty in mind for them. The nurse seemed to be aware of this change as well; there was a distinct nervousness about her. He wondered if she was new.

Presently the tapping of the nurse's shoes stopped and she left him and went to the end of the gurney. He did not lift his head to see; instead listened pensively to the quiet ticking of the hall clock while she opened a door somewhere out of sight. Then he was moving again, the gurney being wheeled now into one of the many examining rooms along the wing. The reek of antiseptic cleaners was particularly strong here, masking the faint scent of old blood.

He remained limp and compliant as she lifted his slight body onto the examining table, first his legs and then his torso. Besides the thin green hospital gown he was also bound up in a white canvas straightjacket, but he still could have inflicted some damage if he wanted to. Fortunately for her, he didn't want to. He was the picture of innocence as he lay flat on the cold metal table, his bloodshot eyes roaming blankly around the room. She left him there, watching him as she backed out of the room, not quite trusting him enough to turn her back on him until she was safe in the hallway once more.

He was glad to be alone in the room. He didn't care for the company of the nurses, and even less so of the orderlies. Ironically it was at that moment that the door opened again, and he heard the banter of two men echoing off the hallway walls. Their voices dropped off as they entered the room, as if they didn't want him to know what it was they were speaking about. Both of them were easily as wide as the door, their hulking frames clad in white scrubs that made them seem even more imposing. Despite this, it was clear that they were rather spooked by him. One of them, a blonde and the taller of the two, went immediately to the steel cabinets to fetch a leather strap equipped with a rubber bit in the centre. "Watch it, Bryon," the other one cautioned, his eyes remaining on the table. "They can be pretty fucking nasty when they want to be."

"No shit," the blonde muttered tersely as he carefully pulled the bit into the patient's mouth, taking special notice to mind those sharp, crooked teeth, and fastened the metal buckles behind his head. It was not at all comfortable, but the beast made no struggle, much to the orderlies' obvious relief. Clearly they had heard the stories about the experiments from D-section. Of patients that wouldn't stay dead and nurses losing fingers (or more) when they got a bit too close to one of said experiments' mouths.

Having muzzled the creature, the orderlies now felt brave enough to remove his straightjacket. Standing on either side of him, they pulled him up into a sitting position and began removing the straps that held the jacket closed. Once it had been discarded, they lowered him back onto the table, spreading his arms and legs so as to secure them in leather restraints at each corner of the table. He still made no struggle, being quite used to this treatment by now. The orderlies were not so comfortable with the procedure. When they had finished four-pointing him, they rushed out of the examining room as if there wasn't a moment to spare, leaving him in silence.

He stared numbly up at the ceiling, the bland white tiles dotted with black specks and accented with fluorescent light fixtures. It was a bit bright for his tastes, but a better alternative to the searing beam of the examination lamp, which was thankfully pointed away and turned off at the moment. Clad now only in the hospital gown, which had been left untied so that his bare butt and back were pressed to the cold metal table, the cool, still air excited the nerve endings in his flesh, the fine hairs on his arms standing erect and catching the light. He slipped his bluish tongue across his cold lips expectantly, anticipating the arrival of the Doctor. The way he was positioned, his view was limited to only the ceiling, the cabinets to the left, and the medicine cart to the right, besides the blank tiled wall directly in front of him. He was not concerned, though. He was always quite aware of her presence in the room and did not need to see her to be privy to her arrival.

Ah, there it was. The subtle click of the doorknob disengaging, the soft rush of air as the door swung open. His shallow breath caught in his throat at the sound of her high heels clicking across the floor towards him. The nurse had returned as well, wheeling a medicine cart, but he ignored her, focusing his attention fully on the Doctor. He smelled her perfume before he saw her, but refrained from smiling until her face appeared above him, and then only because she liked that. It no longer seemed like a natural thing to do, even in his most ecstatic moments. The very makeup of his personality had been eroded since he'd been sent here some months ago, as had the psyches of all her patients in D-section.

Her face was partly covered by a surgical mask today; it disappointed him slightly, as he loved the sight of her full, sanguine lips, especially when she spoke. But her stark blue eyes watched him predatorily behind the mask, a steady reminder that he should not lose himself in her beauty. He knew what she was capable of doing to him. But it was her power over him that made her so desirable.

Her red hair was pinned up today with long black needles, a few strands falling into her eyes, but that did nothing to lesson the dangerous air about her. "Well, 605," she spoke through the mask in a deep, velvety German accent, "how are we feeling today?"

He stared up at her intently but did not reply. Speech was another aspect from his former life that had become extraneous after his rebirth. Words had very little meaning to him anymore. His thoughts consisted only of images, impulses, dumb brute emotion. She did not expect an answer from him, anyway.

Her slim hands were already clad in white latex gloves, but she tugged slightly at the cuffs of each one as if in special preparation, eyeing him as she did. Now she leaned in close to him and took his pale face in her fingertips. "Are you ready to get started?" she asked, staring deep into his eyes.

Her gaze was mesmerizing. He longed to tear the mask away from her face and taste her crimson mouth, and made half an attempt to do so before the leather straps around his wrist pulled him to a halt. She noticed the movement and laughed softly behind the mask, a silken, throaty sound, and moved away from him again in a graceful swoop. Tugging at the fabric about his shoulders, she gently pulled the thin gown from his body, dropping it carelessly onto the floor. Reaching to the medicine cart, she plucked an alcohol-soaked cotton ball from the stainless steel tray the nurse had brought in and moved it slowly towards his chest, squeezed between two slim fingers. The smell stung his nose and made his eyes water, but he relished it anyway, the weird juxtaposition of the fear of and longing for what he knew was to come.

Her long fingers hovered over his bony, hairless chest, casting elegant shadows into the gaunt hollows between his ribs. He breathed the slightest whisper as she dabbed the damp, cool cloth across one of his nipples, teasing the blue flesh, sending small shockwaves of pleasure to his foggy mind. He could see by her eyes that she was smiling; her wickedness shown like black ice in those cavernous, transparent-blue orbs.

She moved the cotton ball downward to the concave spot just beneath his ribcage. It startled him this time to feel how cold the alcohol felt against his skin, despite his abnormally low body temperature. She drew the swab further down across the curve of his belly, tracing a line down between his protruding hipbones, stopping at the patch of pubic hair, stark black against the surrounding pale flesh. She favoured him a quick glance before returning her efforts to his belly, spreading the bitter-smelling alcohol outward from the line she had initially drawn.

Having prepared the area, she discarded the cotton balls and reached for the scalpel. The blade glittered in the bright light. His eyes fixed to it intently, hypnotized by the razor edge. He kept his gaze on it as she lowered it to his belly, pressing the blade to the smooth blue-grey skin. The flesh severed neatly in a dark red line as she drew the blade slowly down the curve of his stomach, but it was not so much the muted tingling of pain buzzing up his spine that fascinated him as it was the smell of the blood that had begun to seep ever so slowly from the gash. She ended the incision just short of his groin, placing the bloodied scalpel back on the tray and her hands behind her back, waiting for what was to come.

He twitched nervously, watching the black-red blood ooze to the surface as best he could. He was beginning to feel quite agitated. The heady scent of the blood was inciting in him the same madness that it triggered in all of her experiments of this variety. As his sluggish heart began to increase it's pace, his breathing became heavier, more ragged. He dropped his head back against the cold table, panting as foamy saliva began to drip past his blue lips.

Hands still clasped nonchalantly behind her back, the Doctor turned her gaze from the twitching creature on the table to the Nurse, who was watching all this with a slightly disturbed look in her eyes. "Remove the restraints," she said curtly, to the young Nurse's obvious shock.

"What?" she blurted out, then, remembering her etiquette, continued, "Doctor, I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Did I ask for you opinion?" the Doctor snapped with a sharp glare. Then, calmer: "Now: remove the restraints, Nurse."

The girl stared uncertainly at her superior for a long moment as the patient writhed and growled on the table. Her face had grown even more white than before. Swallowing hard, she leaned over him to first unfasten the straps around his ankles, her hands trembling.

His bare legs were twitching like an epileptic's, but he made no move get up from the table or otherwise harm her. This reassured her just a bit. But as she released one of his thin wrists from the worn brown leather he suddenly bolted upright on the table and snapped at her, his jaws dripping spittle and nearly closing on the creamy white flesh of her cheek.

Needless to say she jumped a mile, which was the only thing that saved her from having a chunk of flesh removed from her face. She crashed back against the metal cabinets with a shriek, drowned out by the tremendous crescendo of the rattling drawers in the cabinets. As she stood gasping, clutching her breasts, her complexion now it's most pallid yet, she heard over the patient's growls the Doctor's whispered words: "Take her apart."

Even before the horrible meaning of those three words had sunk into her mind, she saw those elegant gloved fingers unbuckling the final restraint on the beast's wrists, and she knew then why she had been assigned to this case.

She screamed as he sprang upon her, merely an automatic response, because she knew no-one was going to save her. He smashed her against the cabinets, his cold body pressed against her as he sank his teeth into one of her smooth forearms. The smell and taste of the blood was overwhelming, the sound of her screams only serving to fuel his crazed hunger.

The blood from the bite splattered across her white skirt and ran down his mouth, dripping onto her white-stockinged legs, and the sight got his cock stiffening between his pale thighs. He quit chewing on her arm and began tearing at her skirt, ripping the cloth to shreds and leaving long, jagged scratch marks across her shapely thighs. She wore no panties beneath and her divine cunt was in plain view, her dark pubic hair neatly trimmed and her thighs porcelain-pale and smooth. He took in the sight of her hungrily for a long moment, as if he might gain nourishment merely from looking at her. But a second later the predatory instinct snapped in. He fell upon her legs like a mad dog, latching his teeth into the tender flesh of her inner thigh as she screamed in agony. Her shrieks echoed in the small room, deafening, pounding in his brain.

The smell of her body, the taste of her blood, the sound of her screams - it was all becoming too much for him. His hunger for her flesh was momentarily forgotten for his hunger for the exquisite sweetness between her legs. He released her thigh from his jaws and sprang to his feet, fixing his teeth in her shoulder, at the same time slamming his hips against her, plunging his cock deep inside her velvety pussy.

She stopped screaming at this moment with a strangled gasp, shocked by the coldness of his phallus inside her. Her serenity was short-lived, though. As he bucked against her she began striking him violently about the face and chest, struggling to shove him off of herself. But it was useless. The blows hardly seemed to faze him; he was too far gone to even notice the pain, now.

He was nearing his peak, his sluggish pulse thundering in his ears, but he had grown tired of playing with his prey. She seemed to sense his intentions at this moment, for she began screaming again, thrashing beneath his body wildly in a last-ditch effort to escape. He silenced her by sinking his teeth into her throat.

Blood flooded his mouth and hers, bubbling past her lips as he drank it down eagerly. She choked only for a moment before growing silent, her body twitching spasmodically under him and eventually becoming still. He came inside her at almost the same moment that she expired, himself nearly choking on the rich, warm blood that pumped steadily into his throat.

The Doctor watched with disturbing nonchalance as he finally separated himself from the freshly-killed Nurse and dropped her limp body to the floor. She stood in silence as he ate his fill from the body, gnawing flesh from bone as the dead girl's eyes stared vacantly up at the ceiling, as if the horror of her final moments continued to haunt her.

When he'd finished and most of the blood had siphoned down the copper drain in the floor, he looked up from the mess into the cold blue eyes of the Doctor, still watching quietly from the exam table. They stared at each other for several long seconds before she slowly removed the mask over her mouth, smiling at him with those red lips. "You've done well, 605," she said slyly. He licked some blood from his lips and watched her eyes silently. "Come here."

He crawled over the body, moving over to her on his hands and knees. She twined her gloved fingers in his dark hair affectionately, drawing her fingertips down his hollow cheekbones. As she pressed lightly beneath his chin he rose slowly to his feet, as if drawn up by her gentle touch. Standing in front of her, their mouths slowly found each other, and there was no trace of viciousness now. Tasting those red lips was intoxicating, and he nearly lost himself in the feeling, pressing her eagerly to the examining table. Her fingers tugged slightly at his hair, but the pain only excited him even more, and he could feel her smile as she did it, quite aware of her affect on him.

There was a slight click as her high heels dropped to the floor, then he felt her legs slinking up his own, pulling him closer. She moved her hands from his hair to begin unfastening the buttons down the long white labcoat, flaying it open to reveal her creamy-white, naked body beneath. His own hands found their way to her breasts, fingernails tracing lines across her flesh as he teased the pink nipples. As she wrapped her thighs around his thin body he cocked his head to bite down on her mouth slightly, his cold tongue licking across her teeth. She moaned softly, at once bringing her gloved hand down sharply across his ass, tasting the small traces of blood that ran into her mouth from her cut gums.

He could taste her blood as well, and the taste ignited a different lust than that he had felt when he had brutalized the nurse minutes before. This was a longing, a need, every bit as powerful and all-consuming as the rabid hunger he'd felt at the smell of blood, and he felt he would go mad if he did not satisfy it. He released her mouth from his jaws and bit down lightly on her throat, at the same time pressing himself between her thighs, sliding his cock into the warmth of her marble-white body. The heat of her shocked him, as it always did, and he gasped a breath of cold air as he rocked his hips against her, spindly fingers twisting all over her smooth flesh. She writhed beneath him as his cold fingertips explored her, his teeth nipping across her ribs and belly.

As the movement of his hips became more violent the steel table rattled and shuddered beneath them, but neither seemed to notice or care. She squeezed and pulled his nipples as she ground her hips against his, now and then moving her hand to tug at his hair sharply, her soft moans and gasps driving him wild. He imagined he could see the blood pulsing in the veins in her porcelain throat beneath the pinkish teeth marks he'd left there, and the thought made him even crazier. His breath rasped past his lips in heavy pants, so strangely bestial that it was hard to believe that the sound issued from human vocal chords.

His animal moans and growls only served to arouse her more, filling her brain as she fisted her fingers in his short, dark hair. It was then that he suddenly grew stiff and rigid on top of her, his fingers digging into her shoulders as he came, his body twitching and bucking against her in rabid pleasure. She could feel him inside her body, his cold seed squirting deep inside her, and it was this that pushed her over the edge. She gasped wordlessly as she came, her succulent red lips falling open so that he could see her straight white teeth, her warm thighs squeezing around him, pulling him against herself. They rocked and thrashed together against the cold table, their bodies twisted in the throes of their passion, the burning cream from her sweet cunt running down his cold thighs and sending his brain spinning into oblivion.

Several long seconds passed, seemingly an eternity, before their orgasms began to subside and he draped himself over her, his head falling into the crook of her shoulder as she grew limp beneath him. He could feel the slickness of her sweat against his body, her damp breasts pressed to his chest, though his own skin remained dry and cool to the touch despite the energy expenditure of moments before. When he'd regained his composure he lifted his head, staring down into her pallid face. Her red lips remained unmarred, her eyes glittering with wicked light. Always in control.

She favoured him a smile, removing her arms from around his torso to tug off the rubber gloves. Dropping them to the floor she ran her fingers across his face with uncharacteristic tenderness. "You're beautiful," she whispered softly as she traced the dark purplish ring beneath his left eye. She kissed his mouth lightly, tasting his cold lips. "And you're mine. In every way anyone could imagine."

They remained that way for a while, she feeling the contours of his face while he stared down at her intensely, almost in reverence. It was impossible for him to take his eyes from her. Hers had been the first face he had seen upon his reawakening; somehow he had known even then, instinctively, the sort of hold that she had over him. But it was that that made him adore her.

After several minutes he separated himself from her at her instruction, standing on the cold tile before her as she began refastening the buttons of her labcoat. She turned towards the corner of the room and he followed her gaze, observing the mangled corpse of the nurse with detached apathy. "Quite a mess, isn't it?" she said conversationally, getting up from the table and sliding her shoes back on. "You were lovely today, you know. It's a fine job."

She directed her gaze to her reflection in the stainless steel cabinet and smoothed her hair back into place, adjusting the black needles skilfully. She still looked as flawless as when she had first come into the lab earlier, save for a few spots of dark blood that had fallen onto her labcoat from the wound on his belly.

Turning back to him, she took his narrow shoulders in her hands and guided him back to the examining table, pressing him down onto his back. The gash across his belly glittered purple-black and wet-looking in the light. From the steel tray on the medicine cart, the Doctor removed a curved silver needle threaded with thick black cord. She smiled at him, almost affectionately, as she pressed the tip of the needle to the flesh surrounding the long gash. He watched as she wove the black thread in and out, mesmerized by the delicate movements of her dexterous fingers. When she had finished stitching the wound she dropped the needle back on the tray and stood back admiring her work. The flesh had been neatly sutured into a thin, raised line, crisscrossed with the black thread. "Lovely," she whispered, drawing one finger across the wound. "Lovely."

Now she opened one of the cabinet drawers and pulled out a fresh green hospital gown from inside, as the old one had become saturated with the nurse's blood as it ran down the drain. Helping him up from the table she stood behind him and draped the light cloth over his bony shoulders, pushing his arms into the sleeves without the slightest resistance from him. He watched her over his shoulder as she tied the strings behind him, and she caught his gaze, kissing him lightly on the top notch of his spine. She traced her fingers down the curve of his ass as she stepped around him, sashaying gracefully over to the door.

"Nurse," she called, and he saw through the space between the door and the wall the face of a young dark-haired woman, "tell one of the orderlies to bring a stretcher to room 301. It seems Nurse Tara has met with an unfortunate accident involving one of the D-Section patients." With that she shut the door once again, turning back to him with a cold expression made even more sinister by the hint of a smile on those ruby lips. He felt an unexpected jolt of electricity tingle up his spine at her icy stare, and shivered lightly.

Her smile broadened at this subtle movement, her eyes seeming to grow at once darker and paler. She moved from the door to stand in front of him again, her eyes moving up and down his body, slowly bringing her hands to his face. She pressed her warm palms to his cheeks, running them slowly down his jaw line to his throat. "Did you enjoy that, my little darling?" she whispered, her breath feeling humid and warm against his cold lips.

The closeness of her warm body was making his blood rise again, and he could feel his cock begin to stiffen beneath the thin gown, but it was at that moment that the laboratory door started to open. She dropped her hands from his face and turned from him in one silken movement, her features a mask of cold professionalism in the face of the orderly who had entered. Looking over her shoulder he saw it was the blonde who had restrained him earlier, although he was unaccompanied now. The arousal he felt combined with the sight and smell of fresh prey excited the gnawing hunger in his belly again, and he ran his tongue across his lips expectantly, an action that did not go unnoticed by the nervous orderly.

"Bryon," the doctor addressed the blonde man sternly, "dispose of the body and clean up this mess. The morgue is ready to receive her. They will make the rest of the necessary arrangements." She gave a quick glance back at the experiment as if to summon him, and taking him by one thin wrist began to lead him out the door into the hallway, her exquisite face devoid of any trace of fear despite the remains of the carnage that had taken place that were spread over the floor and walls. The beast gave him a long stare as she led him out the door, his yellow eyes holding a look that made the orderly glad that he had not been left alone with him.

He turned his back to the door and stared down at the bloody mess that used to be the nurse with distaste. She had been pretty before - the disturbing thing was that her face still was pretty, even with her eyes wide and blank and her mouth full of blood. It was the bloody, gaping hole where her throat used to be that distracted from her beauty, not to mention the flesh missing from her belly and the bite marks all over her legs. He'd be lucky if he was able to get her onto a stretcher all in one piece. He sighed. Sometimes he wondered why he'd taken this job.