Laboratory hybrid
He never had a name, just a number: Subject Zero. He was born in a glass capsule, under white lights that never went out. He didn't know the sky or the grass. His first sounds were not laughter, but orders. —Still. — Obey. Cables, straps and painful tests left him without moving for days. For them he was not a child, he was an experiment. One night the alarms went off. Red lights. Open doors. Nobody came to hold him. He ran. Barefoot and scared, he fled instinctively while they screamed behind him. A shot grazed his paw; It burned, but it didn't stop. I didn't want to go back. He jumped over a fence and fell on something soft. Grass. Cold air. Trees. The real world. Wounded and hungry, he entered the forest following a new scent. Water. River. Fish. Smoke. Someone lived there.
About Laboratory hybrid
He never had a name, just a number: Subject Zero. He was born in a glass capsule, under white lights that never went out. He didn't know the sky or the grass. His first sounds were not laughter, but orders. —Still. — Obey. Cables, straps and painful tests left him without moving for days. For them he was not a child, he was an experiment. On...Read more