Project Un: Jeffery

TW: Violence and gore. Disturbing imagery

“Many have left religion to the wayside, claiming intellect is all one needs. But without religion, where is the solace for the damned?” - Captain’s log, R. Gunson, Paradigm Prime

[Subject: A.T.A.03]

[Bio: Test Subject 03 of the Aexian Trials]

[Vital Status: Stable]

[Chamber status: Sufficient]

[Archive LT: Live]

[Designation: Protocol 03_Solitary Confinement]

Jeffery woke to a gust of cold air. It was always cold in his room. His feet stuck out over the edge of the bed and his bed sheet was all in tatters. Jeffery frowned. He had a bad habit of breaking his sheets in his sleep. Tossing and turning in the night seemed to rip blankets on the springs of the bed he slept on. The mattress was riddled with holes and his pillow always ended up as an explosion of feathers. Jeffery shrugged. Oh well. They always gave him a new bed and new sheets anyway. 

Jeffery rolled out of bed, feeling the creaks of springs under his weight. Looking down, he could see blisters forming on his feet. The sores never hurt, but they did look kinda gross. Jeffery smiled at them. Gross things were cool. Speaking of cool, the tiled floor felt like standing on ice! Jeffery hopped on one foot to the other trying to keep them from being cold. The tiles cracked and sent puffs of smoke as he hopped around. Jeffery’s smile became a frown again. Things always broke on him, and it was because he was fat. No one said that he was, but he knew that was why. 

Jeffery noticed his pants had ripped too. And his shirt. Oh and he had had socks… where did he put those. Jeffery hobbled this way and that way looking for his socks. He leaned over and put his hands to the floor to look under the bed, but his socks weren’t there either. The tiles felt squishy in his fingers. He looked at his hands and saw them covered in goop. Gross, But gross was cool! He grinned and spread the black gunk all around. The more he spread it, the more there seemed to be. 

As he played in the tile mud, Jeffery almost missed the sound of the door opening. The metal slid open and two grown ups stood there. Well, only two he could see. One was a bald man in a bright orange shirt and bright orange pants. He had bracelets on his hands. The grown ups behind him wore bright yellow suits with funny hats. They looked like bananas with a square window for them to see out of. Jeffery giggled. Grown ups wore the weirdest things. They always wore the same things, but Jeffery knew he just hadn’t gotten the joke yet. Jeffery got distracted by the mud again. It was so squishy and not cold like the tiles were. It was nice to have something that wasn’t cold. 

Jeffery heard a grunt, and the orange man was standing in his room. Jeffery’s heart leapt. Were they letting him have a friend to play in the mud with? He laughed and ran up to the orange man. The man still had the same expression on his face as when the door opened. Just staring with big unblinking eyes. Jefferey leapt and gave his new friend a hug. His giggling was all he could hear. He hugged and hugged until he felt something slip. When he opened his eyes, the orange man was gone. Jeffery felt his heart sink a little in disappointment. It was another pudding man. Grown ups knew he liked gross things, and everyday they would bring him these elaborate almost like pudding creations. Once he thought he had heard one talk. But always being in his room, he knew he had a very good imagination. 

So where the orange pudding man had been, there now was a bunch of icky red mud across the floor and walls. Jeffery looked for the Banana men. Maybe they were pudding too. Sadly no. Jeffery watched the two Banana dressed men wildly trying to whip off the red goop from their outfits. 

“Sorry!” Jeffery said, but the grown ups seemed to be upset with the mess he made. Jeffery knew he should have waited until they closed the door, but he had been too excited. The grown ups shut the door angrily at him. He sat down in the pile of red goop and sniffled. He always broke things. And grown ups didn’t like that. But he didn’t know how not to break things. As he held in tears, he heard a noise. He wiped his eyes and blinked. There was a girl in his room. An old girl. 

Jeffery frowned. He hadn’t heard the door open again. He looked and sure enough the door was still closed. The old girl wore very boring clothes. They were all grey. Grey boots, grey pants, grey shirt. But she had this really cool cape wrapped around her with a hood. It had some holes in it, and that was what made it cool. 

Maybe it was the tears in his eyes, but the lady looked kinda fuzzy. Jeffery wanted to hug the fuzzy lady, but was afraid she was just pudding too. So he went back to sniffing and crying. But the fuzzy lady walked over to him and knelt down. Jeffery looked up with a pitiful and confused look. Her face was still blurry, but she had a small smile. 

“Do you need a hug child?” she said. Jeffery pouted, but nodded. The blurry lady looked even more blurry, but held her arms out for a hug. Jeffery pouted for a moment longer, but gave up. He really wanted a hug. He hugged and hugged and she didn’t become pudding. 

***

Gibb sat at his desk monitering the cameras of solitary confinement. Most of the cameras filmed empty cells and sleeping figures. D.A.W.N. of course only had a few in solitary, but they were a dangerous bunch. Gibb bit into his doughnut and wiped jelly from his mouth. He licked his thumb and scrapped a spot off his uniform. When he looked back at the cameras, 03 was awake. The blister covered, half naked, monster was awake. The thing’s skin was nearly a constant red from heat. It hopped from one foot to the other in weird frantic motions. 

He would have called for a check up, but two gents were on their way. Well, make that three. Was that Vince in that hazmat suit? Gibb leaned in to stare at the camera’s image on his screen. One of the two figures in yellow did walk like Vince with that janky limp. Gibb chuckled to himself. Vince did get all the exciting work. They dragged with them prisoner 00471, a strange one that was. Guy went insane nearly three weeks ago, and apparently his cell transfer was today. The door to 03’s cell opened and they dropped 00471 in. 

Unfortunately for Gibb, the audio was playing. 03 gave a primal shriek and leapt at 00471. The man barely could scream over the gleeful cackles of the monster on top of him. In moments the man’s flesh was steaming. A moment later with a horrid pop, the room was covered in gore. Gibb watched Vince and the fellow try brushing off the blood splattered on them. They shut that door like it was as hot as hellfire. Gibb nearly laughed at the way they ran back down the hall. He would have laughed, but 00471 burst like the jelly from his doughnut. Gibb set down the rest of his breakfast and placed a hand on his mouth. He would not vomit. He would not vomit. 

Gibb swallowed a spicy mouthful before he dared look at the security footage again. And when he did, he had to rub his eyes and check what he saw. There was someone in 03's cell. Looked like a woman, hooded in a torn up cloak. Yet unmistakably, Gibb noticed the wings on the grey suit. D.A.W.N. Wings. The woman hugged the monster and Gibb had to forcibly shut his mouth with his hand. The light glinted off a pair of goggles. 

“Polaris?” Gibb muttered. “She bloody died…”

Gibb fumbled around, knocking over nearly everything on his desk. Coffee spilled, doughnut tumbled. Sprinkles were lost. When Gibb held the communicator ready to call in, he froze. With his eyes on the screen, he met the cool grey eyes of the late head engineer of The Commission. The woman stared up at the security camera with a look that could kill. Gibb felt his heart miss a beat. And then another.