Chapter 4: Break into Two
Zachary woke up the next day. He left horrible. After Arthur and Zachary had some fun, Dr Clark interrupted and took Zachary away for... "an experiment."
He curled up on his bed, whimpering. His entire body felt sore from the constant torture he went through from the day before. The doctors had injected him with something new, something that made his body feel like it was on fire. He could still feel the burn, the pain lingering in his muscles. He tried to ignore it, to focus on anything else, but it was hard. Especially when he was alone in his cell, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.
The door to his cell clicked open, and Dr. Clark walked in, her heels clicking on the cold, hard floor. Zachary glared at her, his tail lashing behind him. "What do you want?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Dr. Clark merely raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his hostility. "Now, now, Zachary. Is that any way to talk to the person who holds your future in her hands?" she replied, her voice cold and calculating. Zachary's ears flattened, and he bared his teeth at her. "You don't care about my future. All you care about is your precious experiments."
Dr. Clark sighed, as if dealing with a petulant child. "You're being dramatic, Zachary. This is for the name of science."
Zachary rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He turned away, covering himself with a blanket.
"Ah," Dr Clark picked Zachary off from his bed, "We're not having any of that now. We need to do a check up." Zachary struggled, trying to break free from her grip, but Dr. Clark was surprisingly strong. "Let me go!" he growled, his tail lashing behind him. Dr. Clark merely tightened her grip, a cruel smile playing on her lips. You know you can't escape. Besides, this won't hurt. Much." She dragged him towards the examination table, ignoring his futile struggles. Zachary's heart raced as he was forced onto the cold, metal table.
She growled, shoving him down. "I suppose I shouldn't call this a 'check up,' hm? More... More like a punishment."
Zachary cried out when Dr Clark slapped his face, before tying the poor hybrid to the bed. "N-n-"
Dr Clark then pulled out multiple torture devices.
Zachary's eyes widened in terror. "What are you going to do to me?" he cried out, struggling against the restraints holding him down. Dr Clark smirked, "Well, Zachary, since you've been such a naughty boy, I thought it was time for a little... lesson." She picked up a device that looked like a cattle prod, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "You see, we can't have you disobeying us, now can we?" Zachary's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Dr Clark shoved a gag on Zachary.
"We wouldn't want you to disturb the other hybrids with your screaming, now would we?" she sneered. Zachary's muffled cries filled the room as she began to attach electrodes to his body. He struggled against the restraints, but it was no use. He was completely at her mercy.
"Now, let's see how you respond to a little... stimulation," Dr Clark said, pressing a button on the device. A jolt of electricity coursed through Zachary's body, making him convulse and cry out in pain. Tears streamed down his face as he struggled to breathe through the gag.
His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming in agony. He could feel every jolt, every zap, like a knife twisting in his flesh. He pleaded with his eyes, begging Dr. Clark to stop, but she just smiled coldly, as if enjoying his suffering.
"You see, Zachary," she said, her voice almost conversational, "we've found that certain... stimuli can help accelerate your development. Make you more... compliant." She pressed the button again, sending another shock through his body. Zachary arched his back, crying out against the gag, his eyes wide with terror.
"Now let's try a different device now, hm? Good." Dr. Clark leaned over him, her face inches from his. "You're a quick learner, Zachary. I knew you would be." She reached out, running a metal probe along his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles. Zachary flinched at the cold touch, but he didn't struggle. He knew it was pointless. "You see, we've found that certain frequencies of electricity can stimulate your cells, make them grow and change faster." She pressed the probe against his chest, and a jolt of electricity shot through him. He gasped, his body convulsing.
Dr. Clark watched him with cold interest, her eyes never leaving his face. "This one seems to be particularly effective," she murmured, adjusting the dial on the device. "Let's see how you respond to a longer duration." She pressed the button, and a steady stream of electricity flowed into Zachary's body. He screamed against the gag, his muscles clenching and unclenching as he fought to endure the pain. It felt like he was being cooked alive, his insides boiling and bubbling. He could feel his heart racing, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
He was drowning in pain, each wave of electricity threatening to tear him apart. He wanted to beg her to stop, to plead for mercy, but the gag in his mouth made it impossible. All he could do was whimper and moan, his body convulsing helplessly.
Dr. Clark watched him with a clinical detachment, her eyes noting every twitch, every spasm. "Your body is responding well to the treatment, Zachary," she commented, as if he were a lab rat and not a sentient being. "What about this?" Dr. Clark asked, holding up a needle filled with a murky green liquid. Zachary's eyes widened in fear, and he shook his head frantically, trying to back away from the table. "No, please, not that!" he begged, his voice muffled by the gag. Dr. Clark raised an eyebrow, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Oh, come now, Zachary. It's not that bad. Besides, it's for your own good." She moved closer, her heels clicking ominously on the cold floor. Zachary struggled against the restraints, panic surging through him.
He knew what that green liquid was. It was the serum they used to trigger his heat cycle, to make him more... compliant, as Dr. Clark put it. He had felt its effects before, the overwhelming urge to mate, the loss of control over his own body. He couldn't go through that again, not like this, not against his will.
"Please," he begged, tears streaming down his face. "Please, don't do this."
Dr. Clark ignored his pleas, her eyes cold and unyielding. You know this is necessary.
It's part of your development." Dr. Clark's voice was firm, unyielding. She grabbed Zachary's arm, pinning it down as she moved in with the needle. Zachary thrashed, trying to break free, but it was no use. Dr. Clark was too strong, too determined. He could feel the cold tip of the needle pressing against his skin, and he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the inevitable.
"No!" he screamed, his voice muffled by the gag. "Not like this! Not again!"
Dr. Clark ignored his protests, pushing the needle into his vein.
Zachary felt the cold liquid seeping into his body, and he shuddered, a wave of nausea washing over him. He knew what was coming, and he hated it. He hated the loss of control, the primal urges that took over his body and mind. He hated the way it made him crave things he didn't want, things he couldn't resist.
As the serum spread through his system, Zachary felt his body temperature rising. His heart raced, and his breath came in short, shallow gasps. He could feel the hunger growing inside him, the need that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
He thrashed against the restraints, his body arching off the table as the serum took hold.
"Your body is responding as expected, Zachary," she commented, her voice devoid of emotion. "This should help to... focus your energies."
Zachary snarled, his tail lashing behind him. "Fuck you!" he screamed, his voice hoarse from the gag. "I won't let you do this to me!"
Dr. Clark merely raised an eyebrow.
"Strong language, Zachary. It seems the serum is already taking effect." She made a note on her clipboard, completely unfazed by his outburst. "Now, let's see how you handle the next phase." She turned to a tray filled with various instruments, picking up a small, innocuous-looking device. Zachary's eyes widened in recognition. It was a remote control, but not for any ordinary device. It was connected to the electrodes attached to his body.
Zachary's heart pounded in his chest as he realized what was about to happen.
He had experienced this before, the excruciating pleasure-pain that came with the remote-controlled electrodes. He struggled against the restraints, panic surging through him. "No! Not again! Please!" "You know this is necessary, Zachary. She pressed a button on the remote, and a jolt of electricity coursed through Zachary's body, making him convulse and cry out in pain and pleasure.
He gasped.
He was alone in his room.
All of it happened so fast.
He was chained to his bed, as a punishment for not being compliant. He whimpered, he sniffled, then cried.
Everytime Arthur left, everytime Arthur wasn't there, wasn't near, wasn't here, they'd torture him.
Arthur was the headmaster of H.Y.B.R.I.D.
But when they left, they'd abuse Zachary.
Zachary nuzzled into the pillows, his body shaking from the recent torture. "M... mommy..." He cried, his mind hallucinating, "Mom... please...." Zachary's voice trailed off, his mind drifting back to the warmth of his mother's embrace. He could almost feel her soft, comforting arms around him, her gentle voice whispering soothing words into his ear. But it was just a memory, a cruel illusion that only served to remind him of what he had lost. Of what they had taken from him.
He sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. His body ached, every muscle protesting as he shifted on the uncomfortable bed. The restraints had left angry red welts on his wrists and ankles, a stark reminder of the day's events. He felt the chain on his torso.
It was heavy, cold, and tight. It reminded him of a collar, a dog's collar. He hated it. He hated everything about this place. He hated the cold, sterile walls, the harsh fluorescent lights, the constant hum of machines. He hated the experiments, the pain, the humiliation. But most of all, he hated the way they treated him like a thing, a specimen to be studied and prodded and poked. Not a person. Not a living, breathing, feeling being.
Zachary looked around his cell, his eyes landing on the small window high up on the wall.
It was too small to climb through, but it offered a glimpse of the outside world. He could see the sky, a dull gray today, and the tops of the trees in the distance. He longed to be out there, to feel the sun on his face, the wind in his fur. To be free.
He heard footsteps approaching, and his heart sank. Not again. He couldn't take anymore. Not today. But the footsteps passed by his cell, continuing down the hall. He let out a sigh of relief, his body slumping against the pillow.
"T-thank..." Zachary whimpered, turning to the cell door. There was a window atop so he could see if anyone was coming, "I... I'll just watch... for now..."
Then there were familiar footsteps approaching... the sound of leather shoes....
It was Arthur. Zachary's heart skipped a beat, a mix of dread and... something else, something he couldn't quite identify, washed over him. He quickly wiped away his tears, trying to compose himself as the door to his cell slid open.
Arthur stepped inside, his usual warm smile absent. Instead, his expression was serious, almost grim. He carried a tray of food, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air. Zachary's stomach grumbled, betraying his hunger despite himself.
Arthur set the tray down on the small table in the corner of the room, his eyes never leaving Zachary. "Hi, Zachary," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Zachary's ears twitched at the sound, a shiver running down his spine. He hated how his body reacted to Arthur's presence, how it craved the kindness and warmth he offered, even after everything that had happened.
Zachary sniffled, but... at the same time, it didn't feel good. It felt like Arthur could do the same, so he decided to not say anything. What if he says something stupid and Arthur beats him?
What if he says something stupid and Arthur leaves? What if he says something stupid and Arthur gets angry? What if he says something stupid and Arthur... What if he says something stupid and Arthur... What if he says something stupid and Arthur...
Zachary's mind was a whirlwind of anxiety, his thoughts spiraling out of control. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He knew he should say something, anything, to break the tension, but he was paralyzed by fear.
Arthur took a step closer, his voice gentle yet firm. "Zachary, I brought you some food. I thought you might be hungry." He gestured to the tray on the table, but Zachary didn't look at it. He couldn't take his eyes off Arthur, his mind racing with a million different thoughts.
Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know you're scared, Zachary. I know you don't trust me. But I promise, I'm not here to hurt you." He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a low, soothing tone.
Zachary took notice of the food, but still didn't say anything. He sniffled, even moving away when Arthur brought the food to him.
Arthur's eyes softened, and he backed away, setting the tray down on the bed. "I'm sorry, Zachary. I didn't mean to... to crowd you." He took a step back, giving Zachary some space. "I just thought you might be hungry. You haven't eaten all day."
Zachary looked at the food, his stomach rumbling again. It was a simple meal, a sandwich and some fruit, but it looked delicious compared to the bland, synthetic food he was used to. He hesitated, his eyes flicking between the food and Arthur. His eyes had heavy eye bags, he looked exhausted. Hell, he even had a black eye and multiple bruises all over him. "D.... dad...?" Zachary asked tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper. Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, uh, no, Zachary. I'm not your dad," he stammered, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I mean, I'm just... I'm just here to help you, okay?" Zachary nodded, looking back down at the food. He picked up the sandwich, taking a small bite. It was delicious, the flavors exploding in his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he had tasted something so good.
He nearly cried. His punishment was not to eat for 3 weeks. His body felt so numb and weak, so thin and small. Hell, even his cat eyes moved less, as well as his tail.
He looked like an empty shell of himself. He was a mess.
Arthur watched him, his brows furrowed in concern. "Zachary, what happened to you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Zachary didn't answer, just took another bite of his sandwich, his eyes darting away from Arthur's gaze. He sniffled, shuffling in his bed, hiding the bruises, wounds, and cuts all over his body.
But Arthur saw it. He saw the way Zachary winced when he moved, the way he clutched the blanket to his chest, like a shield. He saw the dark circles under his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks. He saw the fear in his eyes, the way he flinched at every sudden movement.
Arthur's heart ached, a fierce anger boiling inside him. He knew what they were doing to Zachary, the experiments, the torture. He had seen the reports, the charts, the graphs. He knew they were pushing Zachary to his limits, and beyond. And he hated it.
He hated seeing Zachary like this, broken and scared, a mere shadow of the vibrant, spirited boy he once was. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, to push down the anger that threatened to consume him. He needed to stay calm, to be rational, if he was going to help Zachary.
"Zachary," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can you tell me what happened? Who did this to you?"
Zachary looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears. He shook his head, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to...." he trailed off, looking down at his shaking hands. Arthur's heart went out to him, seeing the fear and vulnerability in his eyes. He wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but he knew better than to touch Zachary without his consent. So instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, giving Zachary some space, but staying close enough to offer his presence. "It's okay, Zachary," he said softly. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I'm here, okay?"
"N... no..." Zachary cried, turning away. "Please don't hurt me.... no more..."