Eventually, after a long wait and a lot of speculation.

The next couple of days pass without answers forthcoming. You see and hear a lot though. Like the comings and goings of more people in lab coats, all of them looking over your cells as though you were animals in a zoo to be studied. Or like the arrival of many more convicts, all of them **** up and out cold like you were when you arrived. Or like the talk of the guards about something called "The Project" which was ominous as hell.

But you got your meals when you were supposed to and, though you didn't get time in the yard, you still worked out in your cell so there wasn't much to complain about. It wasn't that different from any other prison, really. At least it wasn't until inmates started disappearing one by one. _That's _when things were _very _different.

It started one day when they finally got one of the other inmates out of his cell, cuffed him up and dragged him away through a locked door that led who the hell knew where. Minutes passed. Then hours. Then a day and half and the guards came and took another guy out of his cell and dragged him off much the same way. The first guy never made a reappearance and that, you found, was worrying and it got even more so when the second and third convict followed suit. This was worrying because you knew that, eventually, it was going to be your turn to be dragged out and away and you didn't think you wanted to know what happened on the other side of that door.

Days passed with more and more inmates being taken away and you tensed every time you saw the guards coming, wondering if today was going to be the day you got dragged away. But it wasn't. Not for awhile, anyway. More than two dozen convicts had been dragged away before, finally, the guards stopped at the door to your cell with guns held at the ready and cuffs poised and ready for you. They were there for you, you knew, and there was no avoiding what was coming.

You thought about fighting, for a moment, but you pushed the thought aside as soon as you saw the way the unwavering barrels of four automatic rifles were aimed at you. You knew, if you made one wrong move, you'd be put down like a rabid dog and you weren't going to go down like that. Especially when you didn't know for sure what was going on on the other side of that door. Maybe all those other guys they'd dragged back there were all okay.

...Yeah, and maybe all the guards were actually big-tittied strippers beneath that armor and they were all about to strip off and blow you, while you were considering unlikely scenarios.

You sighed to yourself as your cell door slid open and, without hesitating, you stood up with your arms out to get cuffed and escorted out. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen and you found yourself with a strange sort of resigned calm as you let them lead you away. It was kind of relaxing having everything out of your hands, after all.

It was hard to be relaxed after you got through that door, which led to a hallway which, in turn, led to another door that led to a clean white room where a scientist waited. There, you were stripped bare ass naked and searched every way you could be searched before the scientist took a syringe and drew some blood from you. Then you had to piss in a cup and, well, let's just say there was a number of things they wanted from you that you usually didn't put in plastic containers to be looked at. You were poked and prodded and looked at from every angle before, finally, you were taken into another room that looked, to you, like an operating room with a number of doctor looking types in scrubs and a number of machines and instruments that you didn't even want to guess the uses for.

You were led, still naked, to a table with metal chains attached to it, restraints that were meant for whoever was laid down upon it. Which was you, in this case, as the guards prodded you onto the table. Again, you didn't resist, even as every instinct was telling you you should run as fast and hard as you could away from this place. You knew that doing that would be suicide, though, as there were still a lot of very deadly guns aimed at you as you were being shackled to the bed by, surprisingly enough, the very scientist that had come to collect you from your cell what seemed like so long ago.

"Hey, doc? Any chance you're gonna tell me what's gonna happen here in a bit?", you ask, your voice feeling thick and strange from disuse as you don't think you'd spoken outloud since that last defiant utterance when you'd been knocked out.

The scientist paused and, for a moment, you thought you weren't going to get an answer, but, then, he spoke with what was probably supposed to be a reassuring tone. "Nothing you should worry about, I assure you. Just a routine procedure."

"Doc. I'm a convict, not an idiot. Ya don't swipe a guy in the middle of the night, keep him holed up for weeks, give him the most brutal cavity search he's ever had followed by all sorts o' tests and then chain him to a table for a 'routine procedure'.", you reply with a smirk.

He pauses again, apparently taken aback by your attitude, and then he looks closely at you and, with an amused smile, seems to recognize you. "Ah, yes. You're the spirited one. I remember you.", he said and then shrugged at you, "You're much more clever than those that came before you, it seems. Much less dull than they were. A pity. This might have been easier on you if you were dull-witted."

You don't get a chance to question what that means before he has shoved what seems to be a bit gag into your mouth and fastened it in place tightly. That seems to be the last bit of binding they needed as, soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by people dressed in scrubs and face masks. They look down at you and you wonder if you're about to be cut open and have your organs harvested or something. If they were going to do that, you would've liked some anesthetic, but that doesn't seem forthcoming at all. Maybe that's what the doctor meant about being dull being better for this.

You don't get to think too long about that as the people around you start to go into action.

"Preparing for experiment number 1032 on Specimen 34-G. Are the injections ready?", the doctor who strapped you in said.

"Yes, Doctor. We've adjusted the chemical makeup as you suggested after the last experiment. This combination of formulas, coupled with this specimen's higher than average physical state, should bring about a positive result.", a female voice replies.

"Well, we'll see if that's the case. If not, there's still other specimens.", the doctor said as he is handed a syringe that is filled with an odd orange liquid and leans over you, "Still, it would be a pity to lose this one. He seems to have some potential to make for an interesting specimen."

With that, you feel a needle pierce your bicep and feel a strange warmth tingle through you as your are injected with the strange chemicals.

"Injection 1 of 45 complete. How is the subject's vital signs?"

"Steady so far, Doctor."

"Good, let us continue"

44 injections in various parts of your body later, you are sweating, panting and drooling as your body twitches and pain shoots through you as you've been filled with mysterious chemicals over and over again. You can feel your heart beating erratically and your vision had long since blurred until all you could see was fuzzy shapes above you. You can still hear voices, but they seem distorted and far away as your body seems to be breaking down little by little.

"Doctor! He's on the verge of cardiac arrest! I don't think he can take anymore!", the female voice you heard before (or you assume it is, distorted though it may be) exclaims.

"This is the last injection! We aren't going to stop now! Not when he's the first specimen to get this far! There's too much at stake!", you hear the doctor reply and, through dulled and fractured senses, you feel the jab of another needle in your chest piercing directly into your heart.

You feel the warm liquid being injected directly into your frantically beating heart and electric heat fills you as though liquid lightning is shocking through you. Your body bucks on the table, the chains holding you fast, and you cry out around the gag in your mouth as pain surges through you. Pain and...something else, something you can't identify...but it doesn't matter as you feel your frantic heart finally give out and your vision starts to go dark as you twitch and convulse on the table.

"He's going into cardiac arrest! We're losing him!", you hear yelled out through your fading hearing.

"No, dammit! Start resuscitation procedures! Now!", the doctor growls out.

You dimly hear some sort of commotion going on around you, but it doesn't matter as everything goes dark and silent and, in the darkness, you feel your heart come to a stop and you let out your last breath as **** comes for you. The stillness of **** claims you and you go down into the dark without resistance, thinking this wasn't how you thought you'd go out. A bullet through the head, a knife across the throat, yeah, but **** by mystery medical experiment? Not what you would have thought. But **** is **** and the end is the end and this one, it seems, is yours.