Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8116774.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Full_Metal_Alchemist
  Relationship:
      Oc/Envy, OC/Wrath
  Character:
      OC_-_Character, Envy, Lust_-_Character, Gluttony_-_Character, Wrath,
      pride_-_Character, Father, Scar_-_Character, Kimblee
  Additional Tags:
      scientific_experiments, Trauma, Feral_cat_girl, Rape, Dubious_Consent,
      Drug_Addiction, Torture, Underage_Sex, heat_-_Freeform, Cat_Girl,
      Alchemical_Experiments, Humonculi_-_Freeform, Oral_Sex, Sex, Ownership,
      Murder, Short_Temper, PTSD
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-09-23 Updated: 2016-11-15 Chapters: 7/? Words: 18912
****** Sin of hate ******
by FelliSkelli
Summary
     A human-Chimera and created to kill, Kew-Mei Chang is a feral cat-
     girl who hates every human, especially the doctor who created her.
     She has been 'rescued' by the Homunculi, what will that mean for
     humanity? Taken to Father, what does he do? Make her his HATE. Wrath/
     OC, Slight Envy/OC, Slight Kimblee/OC.
Notes
     A fanfiction I began worked on years ago, but one of my favorite
     pieces, so I thought I'd share it here too. Especially since it's not
     finished yet. XD
***** Chapter 1 *****
Whispers in the streets spoke of a place called the 'Facility'.
The Facility was hidden in the forest, and almost entirely off the radar of the
public. It claimed to be a pharmaceutical company and was thought by those who
read into it to be a cover for a corrupt businessman, but the truth was much
darker.
The small beige stone facade one saw when they entered the clearing it nestled
in did not lead much in the way of a sense of magnificence to the building. It
did not seem much to look at, but that was because aside from the cover of some
small lab rooms, offices, lounge, and administrative staff, the majority of the
building was underground. Underground was almost a mile of tunneling halls,
extensive alchemically advanced laboratories, and cells filled with all manner
of beings. Mainly Chimeras of all types and in all stages of development.
The man in charge went by the name 'Doctor', and he had been curious about the
development of Chimera for years, and wanted to find the effects of such
changes on humans as well as animals. As a side project he desired to create
super-human weapons to be sold to the highest bidder.
He decided to use children. They would be easier to control, and he could
monitor their growth better, and control every little detail down to their
metabolism and hormones. He had his men scour the countryside for likely
subjects. He had needed young and malleable children; who were strong mentally
and physically, showing signs of alchemical abilities, and would not be likely
missed. The fact that he had government funding (from the Fuhrer himself!) only
spurred him on in his efforts to fanatical levels.
He was not the only man delving into research of Chimeras, but he was
determined to be the best. The search for the proper subjects took months.
Finally the search paid off in gold. The results of the search was a small band
of immigrants from Xing, the country to the West of Amestris across a vast
desert. Immigrants were unusual and rare, but unlike the pacifistic Ishvalan
who shunned Alchemy, Xingese were known to utilize their own form called
Alkhestry. There were many children included in the band, as the group of
immigrants was made of a dozen family groups with almost fifteen children
between them. Some of the children were too old to be used though, and had
already begun puberty. A mother had died on the trip through the desert, along
with several other of the adults, the group of immigrants were exhausted and
unprepared for any attack. The Doctor's men killed the adults, took all the
children, and no one in Amestris knew anything at all about the abductions. The
Doctor saw it as Heaven-sent.
The experiments were not started immediately, which simply made everything that
much the crueler. For a while the man actually fed the children and clothed
them and took care of them. Then, without warning, about six months after they
kidnapped the eight children the doctor deemed usable, everything changed. They
were segregated, never to see one another again, put into individual cells that
were dark and lonely to begin a psychological breakdown to make the children
emotionally dependent on the scientists.
--
The children had been so trusting; it had been too easy to manipulate them. The
oldest was only six, so that was understandable. There were two four year olds,
a three year old, a two year old and three one year olds. The fact that they
all survived the journey across the vast desert to the east when even adults
couldn't handle it boded well for their strength, endurance, and constitution.
Which made them perfect for his experiments.
Two of the youngest were twins, which made them his favorite prospective
subjects. They were both boys, the other infant was a girl, as was the two year
old and six year old. The three year old and both four year olds were male.
While all the rest of the children were to be segregated, even from their
siblings (one of the four year olds was older brother to the two year old, and
the six year old was older sister to the three year old), the twins would need
a more discerning touch, to see how the supposed bonds that twins shared would
affect the experiment. One would be the control in his experimental design.
But the twins were not the only interesting specimens. Two year old Kew-Mei
Chang and her four year old brother, Mu Piao Chang were his second favorite
pair. Mu Piao had already been showing interest in the way of learning
Alkhestry, he had told the doctor all about his experiments; the boy had been
very talkative and forth-coming, and his sister had shown promise and been
incredibly precocious and already speaking full sentences and just learning to
read, he had boasted proudly; his sister held on his lap while he explained to
the doctor how smart she was.
And she was smart; she did not have a large vocabulary, and at two her soft
palate had not fused completely so she slurred a little, but she did speak very
well, and she comprehended things at the level of a five or six year old. And
most telling, she spoke Amestrisian as well as she did Xingese. She was a
sweet, trusting little child; breaking her would be the easiest thing to do.
--
The girl never knew why the world went horrible; just that one day the pretty
man who had taken her brother and friends to a wonderful library had smiled at
her and called her Kew-chan and fed her sweets, and the next he was cold and
dark and hateful; they were fed terrible tasting concoctions and strapped onto
cold tables and poked and prodded. From that day on the experimentations and
augmentations were started. As far as the girl knew she and her brother and the
other children had the same tests and experiments done on them; but then, she
knew very little if anything about her brother after they were separated. Due
to all the horrible and agonizing experiments she almost entirely forgot him,
and it wasn't until a chance conversation she overheard between the doctor and
his men some many years later that she even knew she had a brother in the first
place.
She had re-learned of him when she was seven.
It was after another day in the pit, she had defeated her opponent easily -
a pitiful dog/cat/rat mix- and her reward was yet more augmentations. She had
been strapped to a cold bare table; her frail but wiry arms strapped above her
head by thick leather straps and her thighs and ankles with similar straps. One
would think such a thing a little excessive for a malnourished and waif-like
child, but even back then she had been stronger than normal. He had just
injected some sort of animal enzymes into her side and then used alchemy to
speed the process up, and thought she was unconscious.
She had actually been awake; weary, and in pain, but awake. She had heard him
enter the room so closed her eyes and lay still while he proceeded to talk to
one of his men. She could not remember what he had said exactly, but remembered
him speaking of her brother. Her brother! That had been a terrible shock to
her. She spent the next year doing nothing but think of him, wondering, hoping.
She even became somewhat placid and docile; allowing him to think he had cowed
and tamed her.
Once she had him convinced of her docility she made her escape; she had become
seemingly lethargic and emotionless; and he had become increasingly more and
more careless. After several days of him leaving her cell (such as it was, at
that time it was simply a small faded and bare room with a cot and a stool;
bigger than her current cell, and warmer, but somehow worse than her current
cell; because it made it seem like she was a guest...instead of an experiment,
a prisoner) unlocked, she made her escape.
She had slipped out easily during the night and had carefully explored the
halls, trying valiantly to find her brother. After several desperate hours of
elusive searching, she found him. Unfortunately she was found by the doctor at
almost the same time, before she had gotten more than a glimpse of him.
From what little she was able to see of him he had dark blue hair, black eyes,
and what looked to be the beginnings of black wings. She was unable to tell if
they were feathered or not. He was gaunt, just as underfed as she, and his face
was haunted and brooding –much as she figured hers must have looked like- and
his hair shaggy and unkempt. The doctor had been furious and rough with her as
he dragged her back to his workroom to 'punish' her. She never tried to escape
again, and her punishment left her with a permanent scar from her collarbone to
her navel.
The doctor increased his efforts to destroy her humanity, and some might say he
had succeeded.
She had lost all memories of her past, including any recollection to what her
name may have been. For now, all she knew was that she was experiment # 133.
He had begun experimenting on her when she was three. Each year on what he kept
saying was her birthday; he would ramp up the trials exponentially. He began
with simple transmutation circles and some base elements to add to her system
as well as more mundane drug trials. Each year he made the tests more
complicated.
When she was six she was put in the pit for the first time. She was to fight
other Chimera, pure animal bases at first, and the ones that were practically
dead. The Doctor wanted her to get a taste for blood, for killing. At first she
resisted, but only at first. It only took three sets of punishments that she
could no longer remember before she began to enjoy her time in the pits. She
was free of chains, not tied to a table. She was in control, and able to hurt
someone else. And she was also given endorphin boosts anytime she successfully
defeated an opponent. She became addicted to the pits.
At eight she began to be pitted against some failed Chimera subjects with human
bases. The fact that they were like her -not exactly like her; she still looked
wholly human at this point, they did not- hardly gave her more than an initial
moment of pause before she treated them just as she had any other opponent.
Without mercy.
When she was nine, her thin but still round feature begun turning sharper and
more defined, and her cat-like attributes grew. He had started with including
cat blood into the alchemical circle, and even feeding her cats. Her ears were
larger than normal, and came to a sharp definite point, her canines were all
half again as large as norm, and her eyes became a darker indigo, almost black
which was luminescent in the dark. Her fingers grew to resemble claws. Her once
lush blue-black hair was now thicker and so dark as if to suck the light from
the room. Her hair was mostly unkempt, tangled and messy, waist-length and
usually half obscuring her face.
Later that year a serious of events that were disastrous; the circle had been
smudged ever so slightly by an errant assistant, the cat included in the circle
had had rabies, and the mismatch of chemicals in her body (he had been trying
to speed her growth and change the shape of her bones at the same time) which
had begun to feed on each other and turned into a hormone boast which fed her
into a stream of constant anger; she went feral, but still kept her mind. That
was when she was moved to her new cell, the chains added after she had killed
three of The 'Doctor's' men.
It was soon after that that the Doctor had discovered that one of his
assistants had been sneaking in books for the girl for almost four years now.
They had been small books of course, but books on the history of the area,
maths, sciences (including human and animal biology and physiology), alchemy,
and of all things, manners; all having become increasingly complicated over the
years. The girl had an eidetic memory, and so despite her captivity she was
very well learned, although she had hid it from the Doctor with an almost
instinctual fervor. She had been almost fond of the man who had been smuggling
such covert gifts to her (however she could not even remember him now), but
with her new shift of attitude due to the incident, she had given him away in a
moment of blind rage. The Doctor was not pleased, and to punish them both he
made the girl kill the man. She refused at first (even though she had been
angry with him, he was the first being to ever be kind to her, and she felt she
owed him some level of loyalty) but was injected with a substance that caused
her to go into a berserker rage. When she came to, the man was pulp. She felt
no regret, no sorrow. But she did feel that his death was the end of her
empathy, she would never allow anyone close to her again. Never allow any
weakness.
By the time she was twelve her pupils had turned to slits, her irises were
electric-blue and had the tendency to glow blood-red in the dark, her canines
more pronounced and her claws more dangerous. She fought stronger creatures
now, some pumped up on adrenalin, some hooked on other drugs. She always won,
despite being underfed and consistently small for her age.
---------
When she awoke, it was to pitch blackness. Her eyes adjusted, and she felt her
pupils growing and knew that if anyone was to see them now, they would think
her eyes were red rather than blue. Unlike humans -the word made into an insult
laced with disgust in her mind- she could see perfectly well in the dark. Once
her eyes adjusted, she snarled to find that she could only make the vaguest
distinctions between the wall and the door. She swung her head around slowly,
her eyes piercing the darkness. Taking everything in, she discovered that she
was standing on her feet, her arms strung up above her head. There was a thick
chain attached to her wrists by large, heavy metal cuffs, and from that a third
chain connecting to a large metal collar around her neck. After struggling in
vain for several minutes –receiving only skinned and raw wrists and a sore
neck- she leaned against the cold, almost wet, stone wall of her cell.
For that's what it was. A small cell, dark, dank, musty and cold. The walls
were rough-hewed stone, moss growing in a few crevices near the ceiling. The
floor was smoothed down and the ceiling as well, but it was mostly just a stone
box. If she was free of the chains –each link as thick as her thumb- she would
be across the cell with two steps –normal steps even, not strides- it was five
feet by five feet, the only door a three inch thick solid steel door without
even a small window. No light was allowed in her dank cell, for if she was able
to get even the weakest beam of light on her pale, bruised flesh, she would be
able to escape.
Because of some of the chemicals that had been injected in her over the years
her body had become strangely attuned to sunlight, caused her to gain a very
strange reaction to sunlight; sun strengthened her. It was only for a very
short duration, more like the burst of strength one would get from a berserker
rage. Then once she'd finished absorbing whatever it was her body did from the
sun, she would lose that strength. But that would be enough for her to break
her chains, and possibly the door too. But that train of thought was pointless.
There was no sun here.
She jerked her right wrist away from the wall while throwing the rest of her
body weight to the left with an impatient snarl. Her snarl turned to a
smothered growl of rage which escaped through clenched fangs when all she
succeeded in doing was popping her wrist out of its socket. With her teeth
clenched so tight that she felt her jaws lock; she rammed her wrist against the
wall shoving all her weight behind it and popping her wrist back in.
She hung there sweating for several minutes, her jaws aching and her wrist
throbbing. Swearing under her breath –using words learned from listening to the
'Doctor' swear- she shook her head and glowered at the door.
This was what she had woken up to every day for the last four years, since she
had turned nine, and the doctor's experiments had shown promise. Except for the
fact that she had gone feral. That's what he called her anyway. At thirteen she
was stronger than most fully grown humans, and faster as well. Which one would
not expect from one underfed, pale, frail looking little girl. She hardly
looked ten, much less thirteen. She was only 4'4" which was quite short for her
age, and she would have been very underweight were it not for muscles weighing
more than fat and the fact that her bones were heavier than normal. All in all
she looked incapable of scaring even a butterfly. That is, until one saw her
ears, her fangs, or worse of all, her eyes; eyes that looked far too old for
her face, bitter and hard and angry.
Every morning for the first month since she was chained some poor fool would
get in and try to feed her, usually leaving with a finger missing. But
eventually the doctor found someone able to feed her –forcibly mind you- but
even then she ate very little. Then the doctor would do experiments and tests
on her for hours on end, feed her lunch –she knew he only fed her so she would
be strong enough bodily for the augmentations to take hold- send her into the
pit to fight, or into a big room with many devices to test her strength/speed
and so forth, then back into her cell with dinner, and then left chained until
morning. It went on like this, day in and day out until she turned 15, and then
everything changed. For better or worse she could hardly describe.
***** Experiment 133 *****
Exp. # 133 opened her eyes slowly, growling slightly with how stiff she was.
Her chest ached with the effort of simply breathing and her ribs burned with a
dull throbbing pain. She hated how weak they made her. She hated how they kept
her chained like a beast; which she couldn't actually blame them for since
technically that was how she behaved around them. She hated how they treated
her; like a possession, an item, a doll. She hated everything about them in
fact. But what she hated most was the fact that she was unable to fight back
effectively. She should have been able to, should have done so already, but
ever since she had killed her sixth man three years ago they had started
tranquilizing her at her least little lunge. That left her able only to snarl
and glare with impunity.
The only time she was released of her bonds -psychical and chemical- was when
she was in the pit, and then was the only time she was free. And she was almost
happy in these moments, because killing was so easy for her. She loved to bury
her hands in the internal organs of the Chimera she was set against. To fight
them hand to hand, to destroy them, rip out their hearts, bite them. But none
were a challenge for her anymore; she was beginning to get quite bored. And so
she spent more and more time in the labs or in her cell. She had not been in
the pits for a month now, and so was almost always chained to the wall.
"Damn... cowards" She hissed under her breath before chuckling darkly. "Not
that I can truly blame them!" She was a terror, she truly was. Her claws and
fangs could tear though muscle, and she was sure the doctor was aiming for her
to be able to tear though bone as well sooner or later.
Sighing she closed her eyes and hung limply from her chains. She growled low in
her throat and once again tried to tear her wrists from the chains on the wall.
She didn't even stop when she felt blood trickle down her arms, but simply
renewed her efforts. She was sick and tired of this filthy place. She was tired
of been 'fed' a nasty substance, his excuse for food. (It was a sort of
mishmash of meat and minerals, and tasted nasty. Needless to say, she refused
to eat it most times. Which of course, meant that they force fed her most
times. Which led to more violence then the act in itself really warranted.) She
was sick of being injected with multiple chemicals daily. And it was some of
those chemicals she needed to live day to day. (After all the alchemy drain
done on her body, she had a chemical imbalance in her body as she was
improperly fused. She hated that reliance as well.) She was sick of being poked
and prodded and pulled at, and unable to do anything because of straps, chains
and tranquilizers. She was sick of how they talked about her and to her. Like
she was a stupid beast, or like she wasn't even there.
But yesterday had been the last straw. With a snarl and a sharp snap of her
fangs she recalled with perfection how the day had gone from merely
devastatingly normal, to worse.
---The day before ----
She lay on her usual examination table, her arms above her head. There was a
metal strap across her forearms, her chest –above her budding breasts- her
stomach, her thighs, and her shins. Her hair lay about her in a cruel imitation
of a halo, her bangs sticking to her face which was slick with perspiration.
Her arms were aching and her legs were cramped up to her thighs. Her shoulders
were bleeding in reaction to the injections, and she was fighting the urge to
bite herself. She had been cut open again, to test her healing. It was only her
right arm from shoulder to elbow, but it had made her almost gasp with pain.
The fact that her arm was pulled up above her head and putting strain on her
muscles did not help matters. She had become mostly accustomed to pain over the
years, so much so that it hardly phased her anymore -and when it was very-very
bad she could retreat into her mind- but the instrument he had used had been
treated with an acidic substance which had burned her nerves almost unbearably.
The experiment itself was a waste of time, her healing rate had not gotten any
quicker than the last time he had tried, and because he did not want any drugs
interfering with the experiment ha had not used any tranquilizers.
She swung her head to the side and snarled once eyes landed on the man she must
call 'master'.
He was a slight man, with greasy dark hair and eyes of an indeterminable color.
He wore thick lens over his eyes, further distorting them. He always seemed to
have a cruel insane smirk on his visage. He wore a torn, blood splattered, off-
white lab coat over baggy black clothes and never seemed to bathe. He had a
strange charisma, an animal like magnetism, but she had grown immune to it
years ago. He was holding yet another syringe in his hand, this one filled with
a strange concoction which glowed a faint eerie green color. He also held a
piece of black chalk in his hand. She recognized that chalk; it was what he
used to inscribe his most complicated alchemical circles. She glowered
balefully at that chalk.
He chuckled in response to her snarl in which she bared her fangs at him and
growled low in her throat. He laughed, and had the gall to ruffle her hair; as
if he felt affection for her! While she was in shock from his contact with her,
he sunk the syringe into the side of her neck and pumped the foul potion into
her bloodstream, at the same time he etched a alchemical circle around her head
–lifting her head up momentarily while the mixture was permeating her and she
was too stunned to bite, and finishing the circle- and then he made several
hand signs and pressed his hands to the circle. The circle became a flume of
poisonous green light which engulfed her head and she was lost in her screams
of agony.
When she woke back up –her eyes still closed- it was a gradual floating up from
the darkness she had been submerged in, and so she was able to keep her body
limp and her breathing slow, pretending to still be unconscious. This was
usually the only time she learned anything from the doctor about her situation;
when he was talking to his men.
"-wants. We need to step up production." He was saying when she focused in on
his conversation. Her mind was feeling thick and muddled; not so much from just
having been unconscious but from the injection. "You scum need to stop
slacking." He continued in a harsh, demanding tone, oblivious to his guinea pig
laying torn and bleeding on the lab table.
She huffed her breath out once, a harsh little sound, barely audible, partially
with pain and partially with the impatience of waiting for him to talk about
her so she could find out what he was planning.
Her shoulders itched with caked dried blood, and throbbed slightly. Her hands
were asleep and numb, her arms were sore, and her neck felt aflame. She was
vaguely aware that her right upper arm had been stitched up. She could not feel
her legs at all, and for the first time since she could remember, she felt
nervous. She was not afraid, whatever he did to her she would either survive,
or she would die. Those were the only two outcomes. Neither outcome gave her
any particular reason for fear. But she did not have any pleasure in her
existence, and did not desire his control over her form. So she felt some
trepidation over what new change he may have wrought. She resisted the urge to
open her eyes and see if her legs were still there. She heard the doctor
walking towards her, and slowed her breathing slightly.
He started poking her neck and chest and she started a mantra she had made for
herself to remove herself from feeling. Still as death, calm as death, his
death, I will be his death...
"It's coming around. Good." He said to his comrades. She could hear the self-
righteous smirk in his voice.
"Well that's a new reaction from it; it doesn't usually turn black like that
does it?" One of his lackeys asked, his voice fawning, he was trying to curry
favor by acting like he knew what he was talking about. She recognized his
voice as belonging to Tarrant, the man who 'fed' her.
"Yes." The doctor replied, pausing for effect. "It is biologically fifteen, but
severely underdeveloped for it's age. It's puberty is stunted, as well as
physiologically growth. I injected 133 with growth hormones and fertility
enhancers, as well as some other chemicals to stimulate growth in the ears and
tailbone." He explained. After hearing this she was pissed and more than a
little confused. What the hell? A tail? And my ears are plenty big enough
already! And what's with the growth and hormones shit? Does this fucker plan on
mating me or some shit? Better not! She yelled in her mind while keeping her
body and breathing still. She was seething with anger, but held herself in
check to find out –hopefully- the extent of his plans.
"And what's all that for?" asked one of the doctors duller assistants, Carl.
She rolled her eyes internally at his stupidity. She heard the doctor sigh in
exasperation and as he paced the room. She heard his hard soled boots clack
sharply against the linoleum floor and heard the scruff and clack of a clip
board being lifted of the desk. He shifted though the sheets loudly –at least
to her ears- and then started speaking.
"Experiment 133 would have been the perfect assassin. Very fast, ferocious,
intelligent, quiet, and with enhanced senses she would make the perfect
prototype. If it had not been for it having gone feral that was... an oversight
on my part I must admit. It is unable to tame, and any clones of it will just
turn out the same." The doctor concluded with a definite sigh.
"So what, you want we should kill 'er then boss?" Said a particular idiot, one
of which she was a little at loss as to why the doctor even hired him. Finster
was not the brightest light bulb in the box.
"No, you infidel!" The doctor said harshly, and she heard the whish of
something –the clipboard perhaps- flying through the air and the impact of it
hitting the floor and shattering. "I've put twelve years of work into that
thing; I'll not have you destroy all my hard work just like that." He continued
with menace in his voice.
"Well sorry boss! But what are you wanting done with 'er then?" Finster said;
sounding quite mollified to say the least.
"I've increased the growth of it's ears to enhance her sense of sound to a more
sophisticated level, and I've started the growth of a tail for added balance in
addition to it's increased speed. I've increased it's internal development so
that it's puberty will be finally progress and at a vastly increased rate, and
it will be ready to mate soon, and increased it's fertility so that it'll bare
several children at a time. And then it's children will become my prototypes,
and when it has borne enough children for my experiments to continue, then you
can kill it." The doctor explained patiently. His plan caught her flat footed.
...The fuck? Not only is he going to mate me, soon, within weeks! But he's
going to use all my babies for his sick deranged experiments...and then just
off and kill me? FUCK NO! I don't think so! No-one is mating me; especially one
of those fucking freaks! She thought, furious. No way in fuck is he taking my
kittens. She did not even notice the wash of maternal protection that washed
over her. If she had thought of the possibilities of ever having children
(kittens) even a moment before she would have scoffed, been disgusted. But now
that it was a distinct possibility, she was defensive of the probable children.
Meanwhile the doctor and his men were continuing their conversation.
"...Interesting plan sir." Tarrant said after a long pause. "Who's the...
lucky... vic- I mean...mate?" He continued; a sneer in his voice. She snarled
silently to herself and started very slowly relaxing her shoulders down and
slowly, very slowly lifting her elbows and oh so slightly pulling her bloody
wrists free from the metal strap.
"Why any one of you willing to take a go at her of course!" The doctor replied
gaily. She stifled an indignant yelp and her wrists slipped back up in her
surprise. She heard the three lackeys all step back and heard them gasp in
shock at the doctor's proposition. "She'll be fully developed in three months
time, and from then on she'll go into heat three times a year, starting after
she reaches full maturity, a heat which will last a week. In that period she'll
accept any mate, and you'll be safe to take her. Well?" The doctor explained.
She seethed and clenched her teeth so heard she heard a molar crack. Her vision
–such as it was with her eyes closed- was being bathed in red.
"I'll do her boss." Tarrant finally answered after several minutes of
uncomfortable silence; his voice laced with lust and amusement. She cringed at
his words and his tone. She had seen how he looked at her sometimes, and had
not liked it in the least. It sent chills down her spine and caused her hair to
stand on end. He disgusted her. He was a spineless worm, filthy and stupid
(although smarter than Carl or Finster which really was not saying much). He
was cruel and bad tempered too. Not that she wasn't, but he'd been cruel to her
even when she'd been helpless, she knew that much in her very marrow of her
bones even if she could not quite remember. It was a visceral reaction. He made
her skin crawl and her blood boil. She'd rather fuck Carl. The only man she'd
take Tarrant over would be the Doctor...and only just. NO one is gonna TOUCH me
and live. She vowed silently to herself.
"I knew you would, you always were very proactive." The doctor laughed. That
was the final straw for her. She pulled her arms down sharply, her eyes
snapping open and she lunged with a furious snarl at her captor; having
momentarily forgotten about the several other straps containing her. She gasped
as the air was forced out of her lungs and was slammed back into the table. She
saw stars when her head slammed down but was instantly wiggling in a panic to
escape the straps and clawing at the doctor at the same time. She stopped when
she heard laughter and turned to see the doctor laughing at her straits. His
laughter was anything but kind, and his eyes were hard and unamused.
"Well, well, well. It seems our little hell cat heard our entire conversation."
He said slowly, walking towards her but staying out of range of her claws.
"You better fucking believe I fucking heard you, you fucking bastard!" She said
in a venomous tone, her eyes narrowed into slits as she attempted to pull her
legs free while clawing at the band across her chest. "And if you think I'll go
along with that damned plan and let you do your deranged tortures on my kittens
then you better get a lobotomy because you're brain dead!" She screamed,
finally managing to tear the band across her chest and rip her bleeding feet
free. But alas, she still had the band across her stomach and her thighs so was
unable to do more than half a lunge. But even then she managed to catch him by
surprise and she managed to claw a deep gouge into his arm. Her reward was a
viscous backhand, which sent her reeling back unto the table, where she blacked
out momentarily. She felt her right eye swelling already from the hit.
"Unfortunately my dear, when you go into heat, you won't have a choice." The
doctor said coldly, hardly even acknowledging the blood dripping down his arms
or the tattered sleeve of his coat. He made a rough gesture towards Tarrant who
raised his tranquilizing gun to his shoulder and took aim. With a snarl she
sent her body forward, breaking the metal band over her stomach and
simultaneously pulling her legs up and out of the thigh band. She continued her
movement forward and tumbled off of the table. She twisted as she landed and
continued forward, lunging for the doctor. She was caught in the shoulder by a
dart, a second in her upper chest, and another in her thigh. She crumpled to
the ground in a limp mass, her outstretched hand within two inches off the
doctor's boot where she lay, twitching and snarling. The doctor walked towards
her and stood above her. After a moment he kicked her roughly in the ribs,
sending her across the room. She heard and felt a couple of her ribs crack on
impact of the hit, and felt a third crack on impact of the ground. She groaned
in pain and blacked out in combination of that and the tranqs.
And it seems she had been unconscious for half a day by this point, she could
tell by how hungry she was. 133 hung her head and sighed in dejection. She was
very sore after yesterday's incident. The whole right side of her face hurt,
her ribs were bound but still hurt like a bitch. Her neck ached and she noticed
that her ankles were bandaged, and looking up –slowly- she noted her wrists had
been, but her struggles had ripped the bandages...and her skin. She growled and
stared blankly at the wall. For the last several months she had been actually
trying to cooperate with the doctor, finding it brought her less pain in the
end. But now...that bastard! How dare he! She scowled and stared at the door.
Her cooperation was done now. Never again. She never forgot a slight, and she
would never relent.
After several minutes she heard the echoes of his foot falls. Soon he reached
the door, and opened it. She narrowed her eyes at the sudden bright light. He
stood silhouetted in the doorway for several moments before he walked in and
slowly walked towards her. She stopped his forward process with a low predatory
growl. He smirked after a moment and turned to leave.
"I leave you here to heal for now my dear." The doctor started before visibly
changing his mind. "In fact...no, I've a better idea." With that said he left,
slamming the door behind him. She stared after him in confusion, trying to
guess what he meant by his cryptic comment. Before long he returned with
Tarrant. She snarled when she saw him but that was all she got out before yet
another dart struck her in the neck.
"Ba...stardsss..." She managed to hiss out as her eyes grew heavy and her limbs
weak.
When she woke up she found herself lying in a bed, really not much more than a
cot and several old musty blankets, but a bed none-the-less. She sat up slowly,
for once unhindered by any sort of chains. She was in a small room, no bigger
than her previous cell. The walls were devoid of any sort of windows or
coverings. The only thing in the room besides herself and the bed was a small
table bolted to the floor, a small mirror above the table -covered by bars so
she could not break it- and a door. The door was metal, seemed rather thick,
and had several bars attached to the wall on all sides. On the ceiling was a
simple light fixture, giving off a soft light which illuminated the room.
She noticed that her wrists were rebound, and that the bandages on her ankles
and ribs had been changed. She was wearing a black tank top which reached down
to a little past the tops of her hips, and a black skirt which reached to her
lower thighs. Her hair had been brushed and surprisingly, she had been bathed.
For the first time in over a year, she was clean.
She got up and wandered slowly to the mirror. She growled when she saw what
shape she was in. Her ears were as long as her fore finger, her fangs at least
a half an inch long, and her eyes now completely almond shaped and slit like a
cat's. The entire right side of her face was bruised, and her right eye was
swollen. Her shoulders both had half healed scratches atop them, and her neck
was riddled with needle holes, as were her arms and legs. Her arms and legs
were also covered in bruises.
She turned with a start when the door suddenly clicked and whirred as the bars
retracted and the door opened slowly with a hiss. She saw it was at least four
inches thick.
The doctor walked in, a tray of food in his left hand, and a sparking stick in
his right. A stick she recognized intimately. It caused her to arch her back
and hiss but retreat to the bed all the same with a halfhearted growl.
"Good morning to you too my dear." He said, placing the tray on the table. She
snorted in contempt. "I gather you must be wondering why I've moved you here."
She leveled him with a dark glare and snorted once again. He chuckled darkly
and continued. "Well I can't very well leave you in that cell and expect you to
develop properly. This will be your home for the next twelve weeks. In that
time, although you'll be somewhat on the short side, you will be a fully
developed woman, and taller then you are now. The process will be painful of
course, but nothing good can be gained without a little bad. You understand."
With that said he stood up and gestured at her food before leaving her -
sputtering and growling- and locking the door once again behind him.
She instantly leapt to her feet and rammed her body into the door, only to
bounce back and fall on her already sore butt. Snarling obscenities under her
breath she glanced at the meal that had been brought, and looked it over
slowly. It was very simple, a piece of bread, a slab of overcooked meat –from
an indiscernible creature- a few pieces of raw lettuce, and a cup of metallic
smelling water. She sniffed it all first of course, and took small nibbles and
sips of everything –sitting back for a small while to see if it would make her
sick- before her stomach could not take the scent anymore and she devoured it
all in less than a minute, relishing in the first real food she'd seen in over
two years. She was actually content for the time being, having an actual bed,
and been fed actual food. But then she remembered who had given her that food
and with a snarl she swiped at the tray, hurling it across the room with a
clang.
"He's trying to soften me up!" She hissed to herself in fury. "I won't let him!
I won't." She started pacing the room impatiently, like a caged lioness. She
would periodically ram her shoulder into the unforgiving metal of the door;
only to receive a bruised and throbbing shoulder for her troubles. Growling at
how helpless she was she slammed her palms against the unyielding metal of the
door –willing with every fiber of her being for any movement at all- and she
received a terrible shock when a strange power flowed from her palms to the
ends of her hair. Yelping in shock she backpedaled rapidly and tripped over her
feet.
When she looked up she saw in astonishment that the place where her hands had
been were now outlined plainly on the stark cold metal by a large smudge of
black, which was smoldering slightly before her bewildered eyes.
After staring with wide eyes for several minutes she cautiously got to her
unsteady feet and walked slowly to the door, her hair finally settling down
among her shoulders; though still frizzy and messy from the electrical shock
that had raced through her veins.
She warily reached out a claw and gingerly touched the scarred metal. It was
cool to the touch. She slowly placed the full of her hand on the charred
portion of the door and brushed her hand along it, finding to her delight that
the charred portion was indented –though only slightly- from the rest of the
door. With renewed vigor she placed her hands on the door once more, and
reached within herself to once again release that power.
***** Forced to Grow *****
She sighed as she laid spread eagle on her bed, her face dripping with sweat
and her hair soaked. All her muscles were screaming in agony and her head was
throbbing in a morbid counter-point to her muscles. All she had managed to do
was exhaust herself. She had made absolutely no impact on the door since her
initial blast. She was at a loss to what she had even done in the first place.
Her arms ached from the strain, and she felt a dull ache in the pit of her
stomach which she recognized vaguely as hunger. But even so the thought of food
half nauseated her.
She turned her head and stared blankly at the door; to spent to even growl.
Sighing again she flung her left arm over her eyes and fell asleep.
---
She awoke all at once to the sound of the door being opened. She rolled off the
bed and landed in a crouch, glaring at the door. When it opened fully, she saw
that it was Tarrant, bearing a tray of food. She growled at the sight of him.
"I don't want it!" She snarled even while her stomach growled in protest. She
scowled in shame when her duel responses caused him to smirk smugly at her. She
darted forward and snatched the tray from his hands; returning to her bed
before he could blink. He stared at her, blinking owlishly in surprise, and she
resisted the urge to laugh in his face –with great difficulty mind you- as she
stuffed the food in her mouth.
All the while she never took her eyes off of Tarrant, and she was inordinately
pleased to see him flinch from the intensity of her burning red eyes. He
shifted uncomfortably under her unwavering gaze and then scowled at her. She
gulped the last of the meal down, and threw the tray so that it skidded across
the bare stone floor and landed at his feet. When he did nothing more than
stare at her with his insufferable scowl still on his face she growled.
"What?!" She growled. "I ate the damn food! Surely you did not expect for me to
take the tray back to the kitchen or some such?" With a snort of disgust she
turned her back to him and started examining her nails...er claws. "Well?" She
asked him haughtily. She heard him mutter some curse words under his breath;
though she heard them quite clearly. She snorted "useless human scum." Under
her breath; though just loud enough for him to hear her- in response
She heard him pick the tray up and tilted her head to the side; the tray flying
right past her ear and impacting on the wall in front of her with a sickening
crunch as the metal crumpled against the unforgiving stone wall.
She turned with a snarl and leapt at him, grabbing his shoulders and pinning
him to the ground.
"Just what would you have done if that tray had hit me you imbecile? How would
you have explained this to the 'good doctor'?" She asked, her voice dripping
with scorn. He withered underneath her gaze before shoving her off him and
running out the door; slamming and locking it behind him. Chuckling gleefully
to herself she returned to her bed. On the way she caught her profile in the
mirror. Turning to full face her visage she paused. She slowly moved to the
mirror, and scrutinized her face fully and carefully.
Her eyes were slanted up at the corners, almond shaped, but still wide and
almost innocent seeming, the eyes of the child she still was –even mutated as
she was- but they were so dark a blue they were almost black now, and her
pupils were slit like a cat's, and barely darker than the surrounding iris. Her
ears looked as though they were as long as her middle finger now that she
looked closer, roughly three inches long and they had started to curve on the
underside, looking like a mockery of cat ears on the side of her head.
And apparently she'd be growing a tail as well soon.
She turned back to the mirror and opened her mouth as wide as she could. All
her teeth were pointed slightly now, and all four of her canines were half an
inch long. Her face itself was pale, unhealthily so, her nose small and
pointed, and she had what she had heard described as a 'widow's peck' though
her bangs completely obscured the upper half of her face as it was. She brushed
her cheeks and noticed how high and prominent her cheekbones were.
She stepped back from the mirror a little so that when she lifted her tank top
up the jagged scar that ran from her collar bone down to her navel was visible.
She still remembered how she had gotten it, could still feel the burning agony
rippling though her skin. She ran a finger lightly over the scar, wincing as
she did. Whatever the doctor had done to her that day had left the scar still
tender, even after close to seven years now.
Growling she pulled her shirt down with a sharp jerk -half ripping the fabric
in the process- and turned away from the mirror. She then stalked across the
room and came to a stop in front of the massive steel door. Running her fingers
feather light over the door, her claws snagged on the charred portion she had
rendered hours before.
Snorting she brought her left arm back and clenched a fist; then with all her
strength slammed it forward into the detent. She heard several of her fingers
crack slightly but paid them no heed as she repeated the action again and
again.
She finally stopped when she knew for a certainty that her fingers were broken.
She stared with morbid fascination at the blood oozing from the torn skin of
her knuckles and at the blood dripping sticky trails down the door.
She started absentmindedly licking the blood from her fingers; ignoring the
obscene shifting of the bones in her fingers and the pain that shot up her
arms. She smirked to herself when she thought about how 'the doctor' would
react. He wouldn't be pleased, that was for damn sure. She then noticed that
she had been licking her hand the whole time, and had been swallowing the
blood; and realized that her blood hadn't bothered her at all. Then she saw
that her saliva had ceased the flow of blood in her hand.
She examined her hand and saw that she had broken each of her fingers in at
least one place. Sighing she cradled her broken hand and leant forward to
examine the door. Under the coat of blood she had left, there was no change
that she could see. She snarled loudly in fury and then whimpered in dawning
despair. What could she do?
It had been three week three days and seven hours since she had first been
incarcerated in this dismal cell she now called home. Her hair hung limp and
lank -she hadn't bathed since she got here- but she had months without bathing
before so she didn't care at all about her hygienic state.
After all the chemicals injected in her, and due to some of her DNA structure
being altered (so her traits would pass onto her offspring) it was almost
impossible for her to contract any sort of disease, bacterial or viral.
Her eyes were raw and sore from her unexpected spout of tears three days prior.
The last time she had shed any tears –except for her body's reaction to pain-
was three years ago, she had thought those wells dried up. But obviously not.
It had been a week since she'd been locked here, and she had been feeling
entirely depressed since her failure to cause any damage to the door resulted
in her broken hand. She had been almost obedient for the rest of that week,
quite listless to be sure. The doctor had in fact commented on it.
He had told her that not only was her body growing and developing, so were her
emotions and her hormones. She had severely unbalanced hormones for now, so
would be due to severe mood swings. And considering how unbalanced she was to
begin with it led for very violent and extreme outburst and sudden mood changes
of dangerous degrees. She went from mauling the door, trying to break free to
suddenly hiding under the bed and whimpering her despair.
Three days ago had been the start of her tears, and she had been unable to stem
the flow of tears even now, three days later.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks damp and grooved by the tracks of her
unceasing tears. Her hair was damp and her clothing rumpled; soaked with her
tears and with the blood from her hand. The doctor had fixed her hand just five
days ago. He had left her with her crippled hand for four days to teach her a
lesson and cow her. If it had been any other circumstance the punishment would
not have phased her but due to everything else, it was too much to handle. The
procedure had been painful, as her bones had already set and were starting to
heal causing him to have to re-break her hand. For the first time in many
years, she screamed from the pain and passed out without any help from
tranquilizers.
Now she was in her room, sitting on her cot the tears finally stopping their
never ending flow. Sighing in relief she scrubbed the remaining dampness from
her face with a scratchy wool blanket and stood up to examine her face in the
mirror.
Her checks were hollow from grief, her sclera red from irritation of her salt
tears. Her hair was damp and stuck to her face, and what wasn't hung lank
around her face and shoulders. The hair which was cropped short stuck up in
every direction from the wool blanket she had.
She had been gaining weight because although she hardly had the will to eat,
she had not the energy to refuse. When she had voiced her concern about not
been injected daily with the vitamins her body required, the doctor had told
her that the food she was given contained all the additives she needed. So
unless she wished to commit suicide without killing her captor first, she had
no choice butto eat.
She could still see her ribs but she did not look emancipated any more. Her
ears were several centimeters larger, but did not seem to be growing quite as
fast anymore. Her claws were sharper and strong (But still unable to penetrate
the solid steel door) and her fangs were a cm longer and a bit wider and
thicker. The rest of her teeth did not show much of a change, but were
stronger.
But the biggest change was that her tailbone had (painfully) elongated and her
tail had started growing in a week ago. It was now several inches long and
still growing. It already had a thick layer of short black fur covering its
length. Also her hips had grown slightly, and her breasts had started growing.
She knew that in a little over two months' time she'd be done developing into a
woman and the doctor would then give her to Tarrant for his pleasure.
She stared at the door where she had pummeled and tackled and somehow fried;
but she had made no dent but for her massive fluke, a detent of but one
centimeter. She had not been able to repeat what she had done that first day,
no matter how hard she tried. All she had done was exhaust herself.
She glowered at the empty tray; what was left of dinner that night. She then
looked at the grooves she had clawed into the wall next to the mirror; twenty-
four lines –one for each day she'd been trapped in this cell.
She hissed and started ripping her bedding before snarling and throwing herself
off her bed and prowling her floor space angrily, her stub of a tail lashing
behind her in counterpoint to her fierce anger.
She was at a loss for what to do. She was free (somewhat) of bondage, but could
do nothing but eat, sleep, and pace her cell for hours on end. The only way she
could tell of the passing of time (besides her immaculate internal clock) was
when her meals were brought to her. She couldn't escape, could do nothing but
sit helplessly while her body sped though changes which would normally take
years; and some changes which were not normal in any sense of the word.
If she had not been as strong as she was; as strong as many years of torture
forced her to be, she would have broken down once again to cry bitter tears.
But as it was she took a deep seething breath, let it out, and was calm.
Walking back to her cot, she fixed her bedding back up and made her bed. Once
done she sat in the center of her covers, legs akimbo, and hands on her knees,
palms up. And thus settled, she meditated.
---
A month and a half had passed in a blur, starting her last two weeks of
development. Her hips seemed fully developed, and her breasts still growing,
and rather large in her opinion. She hated them. Her ears seemed to have
stopped growing, now as long as her hand from palm to the end of her longest
finger. Her fangs hadn't grown any more since she last checked, and her eyes
had not changed from what she could see. She was several inches taller than she
had been at the beginning of her changes, the forced growth of her bones in the
last month an agony. She was now 4'7", still quite short, but taller than she
had been.
Her tail was now down to the back of her knees.
"How long is this blasted thing supposed to get?!" She snarled to no one in
particular. With a disgusted snarl she stalked over to her bed.
---
Suddenly bolting out of her sleep and leaping from her bed in a single fluid
moment she crouched on the floor, her ears perked up and she growled softly,
wondering what had woken her so suddenly and abruptly. A moment later she was
answered by an explosion; loud even muffled as it was by the walls of her cell.
The strength of the explosion was enough to shake the walls of her cell and
dust fell from the ceiling in little tufts and spurts.
She started to stand up when a second explosion (that she was awake for at
least) knocked her off her feet. She stood up again once the shaking subsided
and ran towards the door. She had noted how it trembled during the explosion.
She tried to push it, and then shoved her weight against it but still it did
not budge. Backing up she started ramming it; pummeling her shoulder into it
–all her body weight pushed into the collision- but the door still refused to
shift.
She gritted her teeth and put more effort into her endeavor. After what seemed
like hours she was suddenly shocked when the door moved. In fact, the door not
only moved, it opened all the way out; sending her entirely unprepared self
sprawling ungracefully at the feet of whomever had opened the door.
With a groan he lifted her head and glowered briefly at the person -catching a
glimpse of pale white skin, very long spiky dark green hair and black clothes-
though her shaggy bangs obscured most of her vision- before she was on her feet
again and running for all she was worth (which was quite fast needless to say)
down the hall to the right.
She heard footsteps following behind her; three pair, running a little slower
if not as fast as she was. One set was heavyset, and the other two were light;
aside from recognizing that she ignored them all but completely, intent on her
goal. Killing he who she must call 'master'.
She arrived at his lab after only a minute of running, despite the fact that it
was on the other side of the whole complex from her cell.
As soon as she arrived she slipped inside and melded with the shadows. And just
in time. As soon as she was hidden he came rushing frantically into the room,
his arms overflowing with files and Tarrant and Finster on his heels.
"What do you mean Exp. 132 has escaped? How could it?!" The doctor was ranting
despairingly.
"What I said! He escaped with the intruders! The State Alchemists who broke in,
they freed him! I don't know if he joined them, but he's gone!" Tarrant
answered just as hysterically.
"Damn it all! Where is Exp. 133?" The doctor suddenly asked horrified. "Is it
still in it's cell?" He continued. Tarrant shrugged worriedly.
"She can't escape sir...the door..." Tarrant tried to assure the doctor.
"Sir! Exp. 133! Her cell! She's escaped!" Carl said frantically, wringing his
hands in terror as he burst into the room. The doctor and Tarrant turned and
stared in panic at the man. Finster started wailing and making a general
nuisance of himself.
"She can't have!" Tarrant said angrily in disbelief.
"The Cell is empty and the door is open!" Carl said in woe.
"You lie!" Tarrant raged, grabbing Carl's collar.
"Now, now. Don't take your rage out on the messenger Tarrant." She cooed in a
deathly sweet voice, emerging from the shadows with a feral smirk on her face,
baring her fangs. The four men screamed in terror once they saw her. She
smirked wider baring all her sharp teeth. "Well hello, I am so very happy to
see you as well." She said saccharine voice. She could only laugh darkly when
the doctor suddenly dropped the files and started running –knowing she could
easily catch him after she took care of his lackeys- and Carl and Tarrant
pulled guns –tranquilizer guns at that!- on her.
Finster was against the wall whimpering.
"You think those paltry things can stop me? Not anymore. Not now." She said,
scowling at the men, and especially at the door the doctor had fled though.
"Not after what you made me. This monster that I've become; and your death."
She ended in a hate filled feral snarl.
With a lunge she darted to the side and came up behind Finster and with a growl
she grabbed his head and snapped his neck with a twist of her wrists; and threw
his now limp body at Tarrant. Tarrant made a strangle sort of whimper in the
back of his throat and dropped the now limp body of his co-worker.
She growled a dark laugh and ran towards Carl. He shot his gun at her but she
twisted to the side and dodged the dart with ease.
Within seconds she had bowled Carl over and she broke his neck effortlessly.
She kept going forward with momentum and paused, her face inches from Tarrant
(if only because she was still quite short.) and her eyes blazing.
She eyed him up and down with open disdain and disgust. "And you...you
repulsive human pig. You think you can mate me? You think that you can handle
me? You are a disgusting waste of oxygen and the 5 seconds it took to conceive
you." She sneered with contempt.
"You are just a stupid beast, a feral cat fit only to mate, conceive and then
be shot like the rabid bitch you are! And besides, in 2-3 weeks you won't have
a choice in who you mate you stupid bitch!" Tarrant laughed maliciously.
"Oh, I have a great deal of choices. All I have to do is kill you...and kill
every other human male I come upon!" She snarled her eyes wide in unholy glee
and her pupils needle thin.
He stared at her in horror, his mouth agape.
"You can't kill me you stupid child!" He yelled indignantly. "You need me.
Without those vitamins and drugs your body has become addicted to supplied to
you daily, you'll die within a week!" He continued. She paused for a moment,
and then narrowed her eyes once again.
"I don't care, I have no reason to live, save destroy you and then 'master'.
Once you are dead my goal will be complete and I can die; fulfilled." She said
calmly, seriously. Tarrant paled and backed up a step. That was his final move.
She leapt at him and barreled him over. She settled all of her weight on his
chest and took a moment to take pleasure in the look of utter horror and the
knowledge he was going to die that filled he eyes. And when she caught a scent
telling her he had soiled himself she laughed, and with a hiss of breath she
ripped his throat open with her fangs, mangling his neck.
"Well, well, well...so the little kitty's bite is as bad as her meow." A
dangerously saccharine voice spoke out from the shadows.
***** How not to make friends *****
She turned abruptly at the sound of the voice, her hair standing on end and all
her teeth bared in a savage snarl. Her tail was lashing viciously behind her
and her eyes were narrowed in anger and intense hate. She had not even felt the
woman's presence until she had spoken.
That simply was not acceptable. And although she did not show an iota of it;
she was shocked and surprised. If she was capable of such an emotion anymore;
she would have been afraid as well.
She was still crouched over the body of Tarrant-now quite dead although his
body had not yet started to cool- and there was still blood dripping down her
chin and her chest and torn shirt were covered in his blood and her she did not
bother to wipe any of it away as she hunched her shoulders possessively over
her kill.
What she saw were three persons. Three people she had not even felt come up
behind her. And that alone pissed her of entirely. She glowered at the trio and
quickly sized them up to discover their weakness' and reason for being there
considering none of them belonged here. That much apparent from within the
first split second of looking at them.
Not a single one of them was a doctor or scientist. They had no reason to be
here. Who were they? 'They' were two 'men' and a woman. 'They' were dressed in
black, and had a dark...sadistic and merciless air about them, and they looked
stronger and somehow more knowledgeable then any other men she had seen in her
life before. And...she had hardly ever seen much women, period, in her life -
and the few she had seen were cruel heartless bitches- so that alone had her
hackles up.
The woman had been the one to speak and she stood in the middle of the trio.
Thus, 113 focused on her first. Because she was apparently the leader, or
leastwise since she had spoken to her then she should be the first analyzed.
What she saw was a tall slim woman with long thick black hair artfully arranged
about herself. Her hair was parted more to the left of the center, and it fell
artfully over her left eye while the rest hung down past her hips except for a
thick chunk she left hanging over her right shoulder. She had very pale skin -
almost the same shade as 133's own- and dark violet eyes, which were filled
with malicious glee. She held herself with a haughty grace and there was a
sadistic smirk on her face as she stared down condescendingly at her. That
pissed 133 off almost more then she could stand. She was also taller than 133,
by a whole head.
How dare she look at me in that manner? Who does that bitch think she is? 133
thought with a savage snarl, clenching her claws angrily into the bulk of the
still warm meat beneath her; what used to be a man. Her claws broke the skin
easily and a fresh wash of blood flowed over her pale and delicate seeming
hands. She ignored it completely as insignificant. Besides, she enjoyed the
feeling of blood over her bare skin; it soothed her.
The woman was wearing a tight very dark green -almost black- dress which
covered her from her breasts down to past her knees. There was a cut in the top
between her breast and showing a great deal of cleavage if not the actual
breast. 133 was struck by how unpractical that outfit seemed to her. Seemed to
hinder the woman's movement more than anything 133 would ever wear. Under the
dress the woman wore high topped black boots underneath the dress and long
black gloves which only covered the top of her hands and fingers -leaving the
palm and bottom of her fingers bare- and went to the top of her dress. Running
along the outside of her gloves was a strange red marking, it started as a
circle near the top of the glove, and ended as a circle on the back of her
hands.
On the woman's chest -right below the middle of her collar bones- was a very
strange red symbol. She narrowed her eyes and saw it to be a winged serpent
biting its own tail; wrapped around a strange configuration of six triangles.
On the left of the woman was an incredibly obese man, bald with beady childish
eye. He had a deranged cast to his chubby almost babyish features and his
ravenous hunger rolled off of him in very viable waves.
He was bigger than the woman and the other 'male' by a fair amount, almost
eclipsing them by his bulk, for all that he was quite short, just about her
height in fact, although his girth was almost inhuman. He wore a black
sleeveless body suit and sturdy black boots which came up to his considerable
calves. The same red markings on the woman's gloves were on his arms. They
started as circles behind his ears and ran along the outside to the front of
his shoulders where there was another pair of circles and then ran down the
length of his arms and down to the black wrappings around his wrists, ending as
down-pointing triangles.
When he started panting and slobbering obscenely she saw his tongue and she saw
the same marking as on the woman's chest on his tongue.
She was disgusted and disturbed by him and the fact that he apparently was
quite hungry and looked as though he wished to eat her; but refused to allow
even her tail to telegraph that despite the fact that it was doubtful they
could read her through her tail. She was not going to take that chance or give
them the satisfaction of knowing she was upset. She turned her attention to the
last of the trio while only allowing her tail to display her anger.
The last one was the most confusing, because while 'it' was quite obviously
male; there was something overtly feminine about him as well; although she
could not precisely place what it was about him that made her feel that.
He was shorter than the woman by about half a head. In fact he was only about a
half head taller than she herself. But despite that, he did not seem the least
bit weak or delicate. He was very muscular and toned although the muscles were
not overdeveloped or bulky in the least. From what she could tell, he had no
body fat upon him, it was all muscle.
He had very long spiky dark green hair which fell around him making him look
like plant. But also it somehow suited him. Some thick strands fell in front of
his face, shadowing the planes of his pale visage and lending an air of
mysterious ferocity. The rest spiked down to his waist and was rather messy
without being terribly out of hand.
He had dark violet eyes, the same shade as the woman's, which held nothing but
malice and feral enjoyment of other's pain. He had a cruel smirk on his
slightly feminine face and she realized that it was the shape of his face and
eyes which led to the overall feeling of femininity about him; but upon closer
inspection it was actually a more feline-like cast than anything else and the
inherent grace all cats were blessed with hung about him in an almost tangible
aura.
He had a sneer on his face similar to that of the woman's, although his was
much colder and held much more disdain. Her eye twitched in anger just looking
at him and she stiffened her body and tightened her fists.
His clothing was a very dark purple -almost black- and consisted of a tight
top, high necked and sleeveless which came down to just below his breast bone;
leaving the rest of his midriff, abs and abdomen all the way down to his hips
bare. Over his long well-muscled legs her wore a very odd piece of clothing, it
was what almost appeared to be a short high cut skirt which was cut all the way
up the leg and left the sides of his thigh bare except for the equally short
pair of shorts which were just an inch shorter than the skirt covering which
came to the down to mid-thigh. Over the palms of his hands and his wrists up to
mid forearm were covered in matching purple-black coverings and on his feet
were similar in fashion and wrapped around the body of his feet leaving his
toes and heels bare and came up to the base of his calves.
His winged serpent marking was on his left thigh right below the base of his
shorts.
The woman had her arms crossed loosely over her chest, the obese one was
slouching and was sucking hungrily on a finger. The last one had his hands on
his hips and was looking disdainfully down at her. But what was strangest about
them all...was that the seemed almost...non-human. But how could that be
possible?
That was when she actually took a closer look at their eyes themselves, and
realized that both the woman and the green-haired man had slit pupils. Like
hers. That startled her quite a bit, but calmed her as well. After all, it was
humans she hated unutterably, and if they were not humans; then perhaps they
would be of use to her. In destroying the human race.
It took her less time than it took to breathe and out twice to take all this in
and she sat back on her heels thoughtfully after she had finished examining
them. And while she had been taking in every detail of their physical
appearance; they were doing the same to her.
She knew she looked like nothing more than a savage unrelenting beast; and she
liked it that way. Her hair was unkempt and knotted about her face and her face
and hands and chest were covered with blood. Her eyes were glowing blood-red
with rage, and were wild, piercing and angry.
She knew she looked beaten and starved as well; although she had filled out a
substantially over the last several weeks. Even so, her bones still stuck out
slightly and all her ribs were visible. Her face was no longer gaunt however
and of course due to the 'doctor's' meddling she had the fully developed
feminine shape with the addition of her overly large cat-like ears and tail.
She stared at them silently for several seconds before wiping her mouth and
chin with the back of her arm and then slowly rose to her feet while licking
the back of her arm clean slowly, her eyes darting continuously over each
person.
She narrowed her eyes in contemplation and her tail was slowly lashing out
behind her in sharp jerky motions.
Seeing as they seemed disinclined to speak to her she decided to take the
initiative rather than wait them out. She had no doubt that she could, but
she'd rather not waste any more time, she had a man to kill.
"You...three." She started slowly, staring intently at the three of them before
continuing just as slowly. "Are...not human...are you." She said, making it a
statement, not a question. She knew they were not humans. their eyes belayed
that. Well, they also smelled non-human too. And their unnatural stillness. A
lot gave them away. But their eyes especially.
The woman and the green haired man looked surprised at her comment but then the
woman laughed; a seductive and dark sound. 133 felt her hackles rise again at
the sound of her voice.
"You are very perceptive child." The woman laughed. 133 resisted the urge to
snarl; but only just. She turned her cold eyes to gaze steadily at the woman;
waiting for her response.
"And you are correct in you assumption as well." The woman finally continued
and 133 slowly outwardly relaxed her body while awaiting the rest of the
woman's explanation.
"We are beings called Homunculi. I am Lust and my companions are Gluttony and
Envy." The woman finished, her tone soft and somehow seductive while she stared
at her; she gestured at the fat man first, and then the thin effeminate and
feline-esque man. She then stared silently and slightly condescendingly down at
her, obviously awaiting a reaction. Most likely one of confusion. 133 would not
give her the satisfaction. She knew what a Homunculi was. Granted, she had
never seen one, and had previously doubted the truth of their existence. But
she did know what they supposedly were.
"I did not think a successful Homunculus had ever been created." She commented
drily. It was also forbidden. But then again so was creating Chimera;
especially human-chimera. So she was not too surprised.
As all three beings looked at her, a little incredulous that she was not
surprised; and she did not even attempt to hide the smile of sadistic amusement
which formed on her face. She enjoyed the loop she had thrown them for. She
sketched a sarcastic bow -making it as insulting as she possibly could- and
stood once again.
"Never in my short cursed existence had I thought I would meet once such as
your kind mistress...Lust." 133 said in a slow and careful tone. She may not
really respect these three, but they were at least not human. So she would try
her best to not antagonize them. Not her forte.
She saw what she could tell was amusement on Lust's face, but it was strangely
lacking in malice. Envy looked annoyed. Or impatient. She didn't care. The
immensely fat one which only looked hungry; which was incredibly fitting as the
woman had called him Gluttony; but she ignored them completely as she knelt
down over Tarrant's mutilated body. She saw him as nothing more than a pile of
meat. She tore a hunk of his thick shoulder muscle off and stuffed in her
mouth. She ate it absently as she tore through all his many pockets.
She tore one of the pockets themselves off -one of the bigger ones- and she
stuffed all the vials, capsules, bottles and syringes he had had in his pockets
into the pocket. She folded it over into a packet and ripped a strip off of his
now almost entirely red and pink lab coat to tie the packet securely closed.
She ripped a longer strip and tied it securely around her waist over her
slightly baggy and filthy tank top. Once done she simply dropped the packet
into her tank top and smiled smugly when the fabric she had wrapped around her
waist held.
She turned her head to look at the multitude of files the 'doctor' had dropped
and she spied one which had the words 'Experiment #133' written on it in bold
letters. She immediately snatched it with her long claws, nearly tearing the
cover as she did so. And as she was stuffing that down her shirt she happened
to glance upwards at the three Homunculi.
Gluttony was staring at the bodies strewn about her with very obvious hunger
and she heard his stomach growl very loudly and a look of child-like woe
appeared on his round face.
Lust looked caught between amused and disgusted at her display but she had yet
to actually say anything else and her arms were crossed over her buxom breasts.
She did however arch a fine eyebrow and grimacing in distaste. Kemairia
realized that she had blood dripping down her chin from when she had eaten a
portion of Tarrant's body. But honestly she could not care less what the woman
thought of her. She was what she was and nothing was going to change that.
But the man, Envy, on the other hand had a very strange look in his eye. It was
something she could not place for a moment because it looked somehow familiar,
but at the same time so different than anything she had ever seen before. That
was when she realized it was the same way that Tarrant had looked at her
sometimes. Lust. But the way Tarrant had given her that look had disgusted her
and pissed her off. The way Envy did, it made her blood boil and she felt
strange. She felt herself flushing to her complete mortification.
She immediately forced a blank look upon her face and stood up once again, a
semblance of calm upon her face once again.
"And as it stands...since I now know for a certainty that the three of you are
not that despicable race...I will not have to kill you. Now, I must leave for
there is a man I must kill before I can be at peace and allow this atrocious
and twisted body to wither and die." She said with finality, her voice cold and
flat without any sort of emphasis. "And Gluttony is free to take care of this
mess if he wishes." She added just as flatly.
With that -without even wasting a single moment to see their reaction; as she
had absolutely no care about such things- she turned deftly on her feet and
took off like a shot out the door and started sprinting headlong down the hall.
She had a man to kill after all.
***** Disrupted hunt *****
133 was dimly aware of the fact that she was being followed but paid hardly any
heed to the pursuing Homunculi. She had more important things on her mind. She
had to find the Doctor before the wretch escaped.
She ran full speed along the corridors; following the scent of the deranged
human she hunted. His scent was thick in the air and she wrinkled her nose in
disgust even as she followed its trace. She knew that once she ripped the man
to shreds she never need worry herself with his scent ever again. Especially
since she was fully prepared to let her body cease its incessant hold on her
pathetic half-life once he was dead.
She ran with the loping, ground devouring stride her body had been designed for
and her arms pumped at her sides; and her tail she was discovering aided her
balance sublimely.
She spared an impatient moment to tune into the sound of the pursuers and
realized that there was only one being following her. She was somewhat
surprised over that development and spared a quick glance over her shoulder
without breaking her stride in the least.
It was Envy. She was not surprised, all told -considering his reaction in the
other room- and she turned her attention back to her task, ignoring Envy
insouciantly; he was of little consequence to her as of the moment, as long as
he did not attempt to hinder her. If he did, she would have no qualms against
ripping him to pieces; even if he were not human, and therefore no enemy of
her's.
She would allow nothing to stop her. She growled and returned her attention
resolutely to following the scent trail. It was stronger now, more recent. She
noticed absently that the sound of Envy's passage was closer. He was gaining.
What was his intention? She had no idea. And she did not care, but even so her
hackles were up and her tail started lashing in her unease.
She would rather not have to waste her time fighting him. She had no doubt that
she could defeat him –even with him being an inhuman creature; and thus much
stronger then Tarrant or any of the other lackeys- but she knew her body's
limits and without all the drugs she was dependent on she would wilt and lose
consciousness relatively soon.
She followed the twisting and intricate passages easily; not in the least
nervous that she would get lost. Her photographic memory would see to that
should she decide to leave.
Because she had deemed Envy as insignificant she had tuned out the sound of his
pursuing steps; much louder and heavier than her own, but still incredibly
quiet in comparison to that of any human. But she had still had a small -
minuscule though it was- part of her attention focused in on him, so when the
sound of his steps abruptly ceased; her focus on the Doctor's trail snapped.
She had been so entirely focused on the scent she tracked that when her
attention shifted it left her unbalanced and confused, so her reaction time was
vastly encumbered. Her head snapped up to see Envy standing in the corridor
before her.
She did not even spare a moment to try and figure out how he had possibly
gotten there ahead of her; she let go of her body and let her muscles react.
She kept running straight towards him –dimly registering his look of confusion
with perverse pride- and when she was a meter away from him she leapt into the
air, twisting her body into a ball to increase her momentum and when she
reached the apex of her jump –almost a meter above the shocked Homunculus'
head- she twisted her body around and straightened back out. She hit the ground
running; several feet behind Envy, and she kept running, her pace only slightly
dampened by the sudden acrobatics, but not much and she soon accelerated back
to her top speed.
Now she took the time the try and decipher how Envy had accomplished such a
feat, but she was only a little curious. The main focus of her attention was
once again the Doctor's scent. If she lost it because of Envy's interference,
she would have no qualms against tearing him limb from limb.
She heard a muffled curse from behind her –although she could easily make out
the words clearly due to her heightened hearing- but ignored it. She was quite
pleased however, to have gotten the upper hand and showing that Homunculus that
she was not so easily captured.
It added an intense thrill to her hunt; because while she hunted the doctor,
Envy hunted her. She grinned ferally in anticipation and she risked a swift
glance over her shoulder. He had begun to pursue her once again, and was only
several meters behind her. Her eyes narrowed and she snarled in defiance.
She would not allow him to deter her under any circumstances. She would kill
that Doctor. It was her only reason to live. The only reason she was still
willing to exist.
The Doctor's scent was 'thicker' now. Weighing heavier on the air. She was
getting quite close to him now indeed. But Envy was closing in on her as well.
She bore her teeth in rage and impatience and spared a quick glance over her
shoulder.
He was gone.
Her eyes widened and she snapped her head back around to look before her; and
as she suspected, there he stood.
Her brow wrinkled as she tried to figure out –once again- how he had managed
such a feat; but she had little time for philosophical thought, she was still
running full tilt towards him, and it did not look as though he would make way
for her. She started to lean her weight cautiously backwards, and bunched her
muscles as if she were preparing to leap over him once again.
She saw him brace himself; obviously falling for her feint and she flashed him
a wide grin of unholy glee as she spun to the right counter-clockwise. The
moment she faced forward again she continued her run down the hall, her
momentum not slowed in the least.
She looked over her shoulder at his receding form, and saw him glowering at her
with the blackest expression she had ever seen. She began to laugh; the sound
startling her immensely as she had not made such a sound in nigh on a decade.
Admittedly the sound was incredibly bloodthirsty with sardonic overtones, but
it was a laugh nevertheless.
He had begun his chase once again, but this time he seemed content to simply
follow her. She was still watching him over her shoulder, not in the least
concerned with the fact that she was running so very fast without watching
where she was going.
But something in his expression changed; and she did not waste a moment to try
and interpret it, so fast she snapped her head about. Her eyes widened and she
bit back a rather vivid swear. She was only a meter from a 90° turn to the
right. Not nearly enough time to turn; not at her break neck speed. And if she
hit the wall, that is exactly what would happen.
She wrinkled her lips back in a snarl and angled her body just so. She then
jumped at the wall, landing feet first at just such an angle and she allowed
her momentum and centrifugal force to adhere her to the wall as she ran along
it around the corner before jumping back to the floor with a sigh of relief and
continuing her way down the corridor.
She heard a sound of what might be interpreted as a grudging admiration and she
grinned to herself.
She suddenly lost her footing and lurched several steps to the left, banging
her shoulder into the wall with a resounding thud before stumbling forward and
almost falling on her face. She continued forward in halting steps and then did
fall to her knees. She suddenly started gasping and coughing and found it hard
to breathe, there was a large painful stitch in her side which extended the
length of her ribcage, and she fell forward onto her hands, her head hanging.
She realized she had pushed herself much too far, and she had overtaxed herself
much too much. And she was so very close as well.
She closed her eyes tightly while desperately trying to slow her ragged
breathing and she took a quick though thorough inventory of her body. She came
to the redundant conclusion that she was dying, but that she was not finished
yet. She had enough left in her to finish what she needed doing. She smiled
bitterly. She simply needed to gather her strength and then she would have him.
The worm was most probably cowering in a corner anyways.
But in the course of her musings she had completely forgotten about Envy; that
is until she heard his slow, heavy, and foreboding footsteps walking ominously
up behind her.
***** Catching a predator *****
Chapter Notes
     WARNING: This chapter consists of assault, molestation of a minor,
     and rape of a minor.
133 was incensed that she had allowed her weakness to get the better of her and
ground her teeth so hard that her molars almost cracked as she tried valiantly
to leaver herself to her feet, but her traitorous arms failed her and she
collapsed onto the cold stone floor. She was lying on her stomach, her arms
pinned beneath her, and her legs sprawled behind. Her tail was limp between her
legs. What little breath left in her chest had left her when she collapsed and
the scene before her eyes swam in a disconcerting manner and she suddenly felt
as if the floor beneath her was rocking. If she had actually had any substance
in her stomach she would have purged her body of it then.
The footsteps were getting closer now, slowly and tauntingly. She heard a very
sadistic chuckle and her eyes narrowed. She inhaled shallowly and closed her
eyes tightly before snapping them back open. The swimming motion before her
eyes was gone, and she turned her head to glower at the slowly approaching
Homunculus.  He had a very sadistic and icy smirk on her face. She matched it
with the iciest glare she could manage, pouring all her hate and loathing into
the expression. She may not hate him personally, but she was less than pleased
with the situation.
But her actions simply served to amuse him and he began to laugh softly; an
eerie, inhuman sound which caused the fur on her tail and the back of her neck
to stand on end.
"Aw, what happened? Did the little kitty get tired? And I was having so much
fun..." Envy complained in a mock sympathetic tone, his eyes belaying his words
and his cruel intent. She pulled her lips back in a ferocious snarl, her fangs
bared. She tried once again to push herself up, but her pinned arms would not
even move.
She struggled for a small while and then stopped, out of breath again. Her
limbs simply refused to hold her weight, slight though it was. She could not
believe how traitorous her body was being, the 'Doctor' was not far away now.
She was almost there! But small tremors racked her slight frame and her limbs
twitched periodically in random patterns.
At his gleeful chuckle she turned to spit at him. "Fuck you.  Seriously, if you
are so bored go fuck yourself. Don’t you have anything better to be doing? You
think you are better than me?” She snarled at him, her eyes flashing as she
finally manages to harness her rage; and she pushed herself back up to her
hands and knees. But she was not done yet; not aware of what dangerous ground
she was treading on, and not seeing Envy's eerily calm visage, she continued.
 “You are just a pathetic experiment, subhuman.”
That was when she turned her head to look at him. Far too late she realized
that she had perhaps gone just a little too far. She did not care if she had
hurt the fucker's feelings, but he was furious, and she was much too weak to
try and fend him off right now. She needed to get away and inject herself. But
that itself did not seem very likely any longer.
His aura was pulsing with hate/rage/insanity, his eyes were darker than they
had been, his face could have been carved of ice. He was standing still as a
statue, staring at her. But 133 was never one to back down, and though she
realized deep down that she was signing her death warrant, she did not even try
to bite down the next words which flew from her pale lips.
"Whatever is the matter? Oh....did I hit a nerve?" She spoke condescendingly, a
cruel smile forming across her thin face. Envy's reaction was instantaneous. He
snapped. Before she even had a chance to blink he was in front of her and had
kicked her in the stomach. She flew back and hit the wall heavily, her breath
leaving in a rush and her eyes widening. Gravity did not even have a chance to
pull her to the floor before his large hand was wrapped about her throat,
pinning her against the wall. He started punching her viciously with his free
hand, over and over and over again. His eyes had lost coherent thought.
But throughout the brutal onslaught 133 did not even make a single sound. Not a
gasp, not a plea, not a sob or even the slightest whimper. She was well used to
pain. Once his hand went about her throat she closed her eyes and recalled her
mind from her body, curling up in the back of her mind until her attacker was
either finished, or left an opening. Her breathing was erratic and her body
jerked and convulsed with the punches, but her mind was calm and she did not
feel the pain.
He seemed to favor punching her in the gut, and she noted with a sort of
detachment that she had begun to cough up blood, but she hardly saw it as a
problem. She was dead soon anyways. He was hitting her hard and fast, but for
some reason had not yet broken any of her bones. Small favors. But then again,
that may have simply been for the fact that her bones were not any longer
simply bone, they were infused with adamantine. She was very doubtful that he
would be able to break her that easily.
After a small while she noticed that the intensity and the consistency of hits
she was receiving was decreasing. She slowly opened her eyes and stared up to
the furious -but much calmer- purple eyes of the Homunculus who still held her
in a bruising grip. He was scowling, his eyes narrowed. She smirked at him with
perverse pride which made his grip tighten on her throat. She smirked wider,
and then abruptly brought her hands up; the left to slice across his face and
the right to dig into his wrist. He dropped her as if she were suddenly burning
him, and stepped back, evading her attack.
She fell heavily onto her butt, and her right hand continued the halted motion,
massaging her abused throat now as her left hand fell limply into her lap. "I
am so sorry, did you perhaps wish to hear me scream? Beg perchance?" She
taunted with a smirk.
"Oh, I'll make you beg alright..." Envy promised her as he suddenly knelt down
before her. Her eyes widened slightly, not understanding the insinuation, but
not liking his sudden closeness, and the intensity in his eyes. She leaned back
slightly until her back pressed up against the cold unyielding stone wall
behind her, and she narrowed her eyes in a threatening manner.
"Oh yes, I will make you beg." Envy repeated softly, his voice low and somehow
more dangerous than ever; his eyes gleaming with that same look as before, the
way Tarrant had looked at her. She felt her breath hitch in her chest and she
tried to bolt to her feet. No way in Hell was she going to allow this thing to
touch her. Ever. The fact that his voice sent sparks like electricity down her
spine and made heat pool oddly in her belly didn’t matter. The fact that
looking at his feral features made her light headed was preposterous. He was
not worthy of her. He simply laughed, making no move towards her, and she
grasped that it was because he had already known what she had just realized as
her legs refused to hold her, and she fell back to the floor before she had
risen more than an inch.
Her hackles raised and she curled her lip back in a feral snarl, her inch long
fangs bared and her eyes narrowed. She was not pleased with this situation, and
even less pleased with how little regard he was holding for her. She curled her
seemingly delicate hands into fists and was about to lunge at the man when she
was suddenly slammed back against the wall, and before she could react his
mouth slammed hungrily down upon her own.
Her eyes were wide and she froze in shock for a moment, her mind having trouble
processing what had just happened. The next moment she reacted. She placed her
hands on his chest and pushed him with all her waning strength, and managed to
push him away several inches. She opened her mouth to scream obscenities when
his mouth crashed back down on hers again, and he took advantage of her open
mouth to invade her with his tongue, one hand rising to grip her hair painfully
and the other to begin running down her body. She felt violated, disgusting,
and she did not like it at all. Which was a total lie because the feel of him
over her, threating her, made her feel more alive than she ever had before.
Being dominated was something she was used to, physical domination had been a
regular affair for her, but this was so different. But she refused to accept
that pleasure, not even the fact that he was not human would stop her from
stopping him.
She bit down on his tongue, but the taste of blood in her mouth distracted her
now and her eyes glazed over. Heat began to pool deeper than her belly, and she
felt flushed and a little dazed. And also, considering the way Envy had moaned,
he liked to be bitten. 133’s mind was hazy and she stopped struggling for a
moment; he took advantage of her brief respite of movement and moved in so
quickly that before she quite knew what had happened he had lifted her up into
his lap with her legs straddling his hips; her body crushed between his hard
chest and the wall, and one arm crushing her to him and the other still gripped
tightly in her hair.
He tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss and she suddenly realized
that she could not breathe. That didn’t seem to matter at the moment; she had
never felt pleasure before, not in years and years. It was not something she
was prepared for, and her resistances were crumbling. She relaxed against Envy,
her eyes drifted shut. She felt something between her legs, something hard.
Without thinking she ground her hips against his and her low moan mingled with
his growl. It had felt so good, she did it again. Envy’s hand fell from her low
back to grab her ass, holding her to him as he ground his hips up against her,
harder than she had. Even through her closed eyelids she saw sparks of lights,
she arched her back with a gasp, and her body trembled.
The good thing was it caused Envy to finally pull away from her mouth and she
began to gasp for breath and her sense began to return. She could hardly
believe what she was doing, she was preparing to rut with this man, this
Homunculi! And she had not the time to waste, the ‘Doctor’ could be getting
away by now, and beside that fact, she was still only 13. She may not know much
of the outside world, but she still knew that that was taboo for some reason.
Which made Envy a pervert. And even if that didn’t bother her (which,
admittedly it did not) he was still taking advantage of her weakness. And that
was unforgivable. Although she had been blessedly without anger for the last
few minutes, the moment she had a chance to think it all came rushing back,
like the tide to shore, and she was angrier than before, perhaps un-rationally
so. It was compounded by the fact that she had actually been enjoying herself.
So she lashed out at the Homunculi which she was still straddling.
She snarled up at him as she pulled back as far from him as she could. "You!"
She snarled, snapping her fangs near his face before continuing. “I was locked
up in this facility since I was too young to know anything about the world, but
I know enough to know you are taken advantage of my weakness; and I refuse to
be used! So get your grubby hands off of me!” She growled, trying to pull away.
Envy looked annoyed and then smirked and arched into her again, grinding slowly
against the apex of her thighs. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she bit
back a moan with every ounce of her strength. Obviously trying to reason with
him was not going anywhere.
“You’re as bad as a human!” She gasped, trying to regain her anger. She would
have continued but she was backhanded then, so hard that her vision went black
and her head cracked against the wall so hard she saw stars and nearly blacked
out entirely.
She let out an involuntary gasp at the pain which shot through her head, but
she quickly erected a barrier in her mind to block the pain. Her eyes had
closed unconsciously, but when she felt rough hands on her breasts, tugging at
her shirt, they shot open again and she lunged forward to try to gouge out his
eyes. Her wrists were caught in a bone bruising grip and her arms crushed
against the wall. She snarled and tried to lunge at him but because of how her
arms were trapped she could not move more than an inch or two away from the
cold concrete wall.
Suddenly both of her wrists were caught in his left hand and he raised them
above her head and pinned them to the wall. She was startled by the sudden move
but before she could react further she was backhanded once again and as her
skull impacted against the wall behind her everything went dim. She could no
longer fight as he ripped the shirt from her torso and one of his hands grabbed
her breast cruelly. She gave a weak moan which seemed only to spur the man on.
She hissed in pain as she tried to move and her head gave a sharp twinge. She
lifted her arms and it felt as though she were moving though water. She was
enraged that she was so weak, she curled her fingers into claws and went for
his eyes; she never saw the hit that caused her to black out completely.
***** Recovered *****
The first thing she realized was that everything was black, an endless
nothingness. The only thing she felt was nothingness. She could not even feel
her body, she was completely detached from her very essence, and all she knew
was darkness. She could not hear anything; it was as if she floated in an
endless black void, surrounded in absolute nothingness. She realized that this
was probably what death was, and decided that she would probably go quite mad. 
But then she focused on the noise that she could suddenly hear; the only sound
she heard was the relentless pounding of blood in her ears; a sound which
blocked out any other noise.  But slowly the sound of her blood faded, only to
be replaced by her ragged, uneven breaths. Each breath was met with a burning
pain in her chest, her lungs struggling with the effort. She was still in
darkness, and she could not move; her body felt leaden, her eyelids glued shut.
But slowly, ever so slowly, it became easier to breath, easier to live. With a
sudden searing gasp which caused her to cough up blood, she sat up. Her eyes
flew open.
She was suddenly assuaged with pain and she doubled over her legs with a groan,
her eyes screwed shut in agony. Her head felt as if it had been split in two,
her chest was afire, and she was bruised and beaten all over. But by far the
majority of her pain was settled between her thighs, thighs which were covered
in now drying blood which she could smell all too clearly. She suddenly
remembered all that had happened. She had blacked out when Envy assaulted
her...but obviously that had not been enough for him. He had raped her. She
would kill him. A low feral growl rumbled in her chest and hissed out between
clenched teeth. 
But then she opened her eyes again, ever so slowly, as she was struck with a
second revelation. She had been at least 2/3rds dead when Envy had come upon
her; that was the only reason he had been given the upper hand. So how in the
seven rings of Hell was she still breathing? How was she conscious? She lifted
her head and straightened her spine; her legs sprawled to either side although
she slowly drew her knees together, ignoring the pain. She saw a woman sitting
across the hall from her -within easy reach of her arms- watching her calmly
and intently with unreadable pink eyes. 133 stared silently at the woman, her
blood red eyes slowly taking in her appearance. She could not place the woman
at first, and then she realized that it was Lust.
She was very angry that the woman was there, watching her in her weakness and
she growled again, her eyes flashing and ignoring the sharp pain between her
thighs she pulled herself to a crouch, her hands curled into fists. As she
moved Lust lifted an eyebrow in evident amusement. That was when 133 realized
what should have been obvious when she saw several empty syringes on the floor
beside the woman.
"I would have cleaned you off too, but I figured you had been violated enough
for one day," Lust said, breaking the silence. She sounded amused. 133 blinked
slowly and took a deep breath and slowly sat back down. She took a moment to
move her attention from Lust’s face and noted that her manicured fingers were
holding a manila folder. 133 inhaled sharply and started patting down her chest
and looked into her shirt, and saw that her packet had been removed.
"Your name is, or rather was, Kew-Mei Chang. Do you recognize it?" Lust asked
with a small tilt of her head, her eyes staring unblinkingly at 133. 133
scooted back away from Lust to put her back against the wall and push herself
to her feet. Lust’s words had not really registered what Lust had asked, but
when the words did catch her attention retroactively she collapsed back to the
floor. 
"My…name?” She asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. Her name…she had a name?
Of course she did…she was human once, right? “Kew-Mei?” She muttered to
herself. The name did not seem to fit herself; she did not remember it. But it
was her’s. “Is it…a good name?” She asked Lust curiously, meeting her slanted
eyes squarely. She was feeling strangely calm right now. More than when she had
been facing Envy. More than she had in years. She could feel her rage roiling
just below the surface, her stomach was clenched and her fingers were
twitching, but her mind was clear, her breathing slow.
“Well, I think ‘Kitty’ would suit you better, but yes, Kew-Mei is a…’good
name’. It is Xingese. Chang is one of the fifty clans as I understand it,” 
Lust explained with a small smile. 133 took a small breath, trying to reconcile
her self-perception with the name ‘Kew-Mei’. And she was confused.
“What is Xingese?” She asked, annoyed at being confused.
“Xing is a big country, east of Amestris, across the Eastern Desert,” Lust
explained shortly.  Kew-Mei nodded slowly. So she came from another country,
which must have made it easier for the doctor to dehumanize her then. She
looked down at her hands, her clawed fingers.
“I suppose ‘Kitty would suit me better…I am more animal than human now,” Kew-
Mei said, caught between bitterness and pleasure.
"Well, what would you prefer me to call you then?" Lust asked in a calm, almost
bored manner although her eyes were dancing with an unnamed emotion which Kew-
Mei had a sneaking suspicion was amusement.
"Did you not read it in my file?” She asked with a small smirk.
"I know what your name is supposedto be," The woman said with a flick of her
hand as if it were inconsequential. "I asked what youwanted me to call you,"
She continued with a small smile.
“Call me what you will. I care not,” Kew-Mei decided after a moment of thought.
“I believe I will stick with Kitty.”
“Of course you will.”
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