The restraint caught his head before it could snap back any further, forcing his chin down toward his chest.
Blood was already running from both nostrils, dark and thick, pooling above his lip.
A moment later a thinner line slid out of his left ear, soaking into the collar of the test garment.
Then the skin below his left eye split open in a straight red line where the pressure had finally broken through.
One of the researchers was watching the readouts, his face gone pale.
“Neural activity’s still climbing past threshold, sir.”
“That’s not mathematically possible at this dosage,” the older tech said, hands frozen over the console.
“It’s happening anyway.
Look at the feed.”
The man in the pod screamed again, but the sound broke apart halfway through, drowned by fluid in his throat.
His chest heaved against the restraint plate, fighting for air that never came quickly enough.
His body was starting to shut down under the strain.
For three seconds the monitors along the rack went haywire, error logs scrolling too fast for anyone to actually read.
Then something shifted under his ribs.
A crack — bone giving way under muscle — carried clean through the metal of the pod.
The nearest researcher stumbled back a step onto the gravel.
“What was that.
The sternum just gave.”
“Don’t stop the cycle,” the director said, and his voice had gone very quiet and very flat.
“Sir, the structural integrity—”
“I said don’t stop it.”
Another pulse ran down the lines into his spine.
His whole body locked rigid, fingers splayed inside the cuffs.
Something was moving under his skin.
His forearms spasmed in slow waves.
Under the torn flesh, the bones in his arms and ribs seemed to be shifting on their own — breaking, then setting again, over and over, some force working from the inside.
He was being taken apart and put back together at the same time.
Blood spread across the concrete under the pod, dark and widening.
One of the junior techs stared at it, knuckles white on his tablet.
“He’s losing too much.
Arterial pressure’s near zero.”
“Look at the feed again,” the director said, stepping closer to the glass.
The bleeding had already stopped.
The gash across his shoulder wasn’t closing slowly — it sealed almost as they watched, the torn edges pulling together faster than anyone could really follow.
The blood soaked into the gray fabric simply disappeared under fresh skin.
The tech stared, blank.
“It’s — it’s healing itself.”
“I can see that,” the director said.
“That’s not a normal biological readout.
This isn’t human.”
“Nothing about this one’s been normal since the recovery team brought it in.”
The man in the pod arched up in one last violent spasm, a low wet sound coming from somewhere deep in his throat.
Then nothing.
Silence.
The three of them looked at the monitors.
For a full second there was nothing on the line — no brainwaves, no pulse, no muscle response at all.
The junior tech’s voice came out shaking.
“Did we — did we kill him?”
The director said nothing.
He kept his eyes on the pale face behind the visor.
Then a finger moved.
Just once, the nail scraping against the steel.
The tech looked down fast.
“Wait.
The lead wire—”
Another small twitch, this time in the wrist.
Then the heartbeat came back on the monitor.
Slow.
One heavy beat.
Beep.
A long pause.
Another.
Beep.
A third, and then the line settled into a slow, steady rhythm.
The director stepped right up to the glass.
“Continue the cycle.
Start the pulse.”
The tech stared at him.
“Sir, he won’t survive another one.
His brain won’t hold.”
“Continue.”
“If the cortex goes—”
“Do it,” the director said, and hit the console with his open hand.
The machine kicked on with a hard click.
The man in the pod jerked forward, mouth stretched open in a scream that made no sound at all.
His vocal cords had already given out.
Just his lips moving against the fluid, teeth bared, nothing coming through.
By then the pain had gone somewhere past what a body could scream about.
Every nerve was on fire at once.
Every thought fell apart before it could finish forming.
There was no telling anymore where the pain stopped and where the room started.
Pressure crushing down inside his skull.
Something dragging down his spine.
Muscle tearing loose from bone and knitting back together in the same instant.
Organs twisting like something was pulling at them from every direction at once.
And then even that stopped.
Not because the current cut out — because his mind shut the door on it, just to survive.
….
…
Darkness.
No sound.
No body.
No room.
Nothing at all.
Whatever was left of him drifted without a name, without a direction, without any sense of up or down or how much time had passed.
He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here.
He couldn’t remember who he was.
Maybe this is what dying is, the thought passed through and dissolved again into the gray.
It didn’t seem to matter much either way.
All he wanted was to rest.
Just quiet, and nothing asking anything of him.
Then—
“Boss.”
The voice came from somewhere far off, and he let it pass without answering.
“Boss!”
Still nothing.
It came again, fainter, almost swallowed by the dark pressing in around it.
“Boss…”
He drifted further away from it.
He didn’t want to come back.
He only wanted the dark to stay quiet.
Then the voice changed — closer now, sharper, with an edge to it that didn’t sound quite human.
“Boss!”
HEY Guys, How was the chapters ?
Was it fun ?
If it’s not, then I will recommend you to have a little patience on this Author.
It’s just the start so needs some build ups.
Eventually It will become much better.
Before you know it, You will be absolutely hooked up in this story.
The characters are very alive, so be cautious don’t get too deep into this.
Thank You Guys.
And please write some comments man, It hurts a little when I saw every day only my comment in comment section.
~By CosmicScribe