Post by Lucian Verdus on Nov 2, 2009 18:12:15 GMT -5
Strange and unsettling noises emanated from Lucian's cell, that night. That night was an auspicious one, for him. His first experiment and, to him, his most philanthropic effort within the confines of the facility, if ever. Truly, the Servites would have been proud of him; he was purifying the sinful flesh of man, he considered. He was truly doing God's work, perfecting His creations to an uncorrupted, sinless form. But, those things were behind him, now. Piety was a distant memory. All that mattered now was the machine, and the perfection it brought.
That night was a night of the clanking of pipes, the hissing of the soldering iron, and the soft slicing of the flesh of the recently disinterred. It was a night of endless working, and he was beyond thankful in his lack of need for any sleep. How the weakness of the flesh would have crippled his work! Nimble fingers ran across gray, mutilated flesh, and claws rent it with a surgical ease and precision. The soldiering iron was immaculate in both sealing and searing the flesh in proper places.
Then came the more difficult part; applying the body. He had been experimenting with imparting his mutation on others, mostly with just modifying material outside of his body, but never to such an extent as this. This would be his crowning achievement, or his most crushing defeat. His large, powerful metal claws took hold of a length of piping leaning against the wall, and all power was diverted. The portions of flesh that remained were mostly kept nestled behind his thick metal outer layer due to their utter vitality in being able to modify technology and assume it, and it was now that he used them, the metal giving off a faint glow as it began to twist.
What occurred afterward, the usual process of assimilation, is a horrific sight, not for any that value their sanity. The noises emanating from his cell became unspeakable; sounds like something shifting through a very thick pool of mud, or the occasional violent-sounding, fleshy splattering. Once or twice was a leathery tearing noise. These sounds occurred for some time, pausing only occasionally when Lucian went to grab another pipe or some of the other skeletal bits of technology that he possessed.
Then, there was only silence, save for the occasional sounds of shifting or shuffling.
All Lucian could do was wait. He had enough in his capacitors to get his new creation started; the lightning strike that would bring his Frankenstein Monster to life. But, would it live?
That night was a night of the clanking of pipes, the hissing of the soldering iron, and the soft slicing of the flesh of the recently disinterred. It was a night of endless working, and he was beyond thankful in his lack of need for any sleep. How the weakness of the flesh would have crippled his work! Nimble fingers ran across gray, mutilated flesh, and claws rent it with a surgical ease and precision. The soldiering iron was immaculate in both sealing and searing the flesh in proper places.
Then came the more difficult part; applying the body. He had been experimenting with imparting his mutation on others, mostly with just modifying material outside of his body, but never to such an extent as this. This would be his crowning achievement, or his most crushing defeat. His large, powerful metal claws took hold of a length of piping leaning against the wall, and all power was diverted. The portions of flesh that remained were mostly kept nestled behind his thick metal outer layer due to their utter vitality in being able to modify technology and assume it, and it was now that he used them, the metal giving off a faint glow as it began to twist.
What occurred afterward, the usual process of assimilation, is a horrific sight, not for any that value their sanity. The noises emanating from his cell became unspeakable; sounds like something shifting through a very thick pool of mud, or the occasional violent-sounding, fleshy splattering. Once or twice was a leathery tearing noise. These sounds occurred for some time, pausing only occasionally when Lucian went to grab another pipe or some of the other skeletal bits of technology that he possessed.
Then, there was only silence, save for the occasional sounds of shifting or shuffling.
All Lucian could do was wait. He had enough in his capacitors to get his new creation started; the lightning strike that would bring his Frankenstein Monster to life. But, would it live?