A Drop In The Ocean (Trager x Miles Specimen One-Shot AU)
Miles wasnât the type of person to take leads from crazed PETA protesters. A majority of the time they were uneducated on the actual treatment of animals such as the misunderstanding where they protested a dairy farmer because they thought cows were killed for their milk. Which was incorrect. Or the time they unleashed a whole bunch of invasive species into an ecosystem that could not sustain them and most of the animals they thought they were saving from the animal sanctuary ended up dead by the end of the week. They werenât the most reliable people to go by and that was saying something considering his usual contacts.
But when an email leap into his inbox late one night with the subject line âMOUNT MASSIVE MARINE SLAUGHTERâ his curiosity and outright sleep deprivation drove him to open the email and give it a read. The email had little written within it, just a repeat of the title line and a video clip with âWatch Me!â written above. He clicked on it and opened it to full screen. It showed the well known and somewhat sketchy Mount Massive Aquarium and Marine Biology building. It was a massive compound structure that was quite dilapidated and had to be in violation of half a dozen building codes. The only thing he could think of was it was old enough and repurposed enough to be grandfathered in. The footage appeared to be through someoneâs car window and it shifted to the side to where the window was cracked, allowing a less obstructed viewing of the back of the building.
Two big semiâs were pulled into the back, one of them was backed all the way up to the bay doors to the loading dock and the other had just backed up but didnât turn into the loading bay. The back of the truck was in full view as the doors rolled up and several men climbed out. There were huge pallets and cold storage containers within, buckled down to prevent being moved too much in transit. Several minutes passed by and the head of the Aquarium, Richard Trager, emerged; a tall slim man with a beaky nose and circular wire rimmed spectacles resting on the bridge of it. He walked out of the backdoor with two men following and a massive metal trolley carted something huge and lifeless behind. Their was a tarp draped over it, making it hard to see what it was until the man pulled it back. The camera zoomed in to show a dolphin, one of the rare exhibits in the building with its pink hue of flesh and the pigment anomalies of darker violet splotches. It was a rare mutation that was unheard of which was why the Aquarium took the pool creature in. It wouldnât survive the wilds with that coloring. Predators would hone right into it.
The men looked over the specimen, disregarding whatever nasally spiel the marine doctor was going on about. There was the exchange of a briefcase which one of the two men in dark uniforms took. The men from the truck pulled the trolley up into it and lifted the specimen, tarp and all to be put into cold storage. Several minutes later and the men closed up the truck and started to pull away. Trager shoved his hands into his lab coat pockets and strolled back into the building with his two lackeys in tow. A minute or so later and the video cut out. Another link was present at the bottom of the email.
When he clicked on it, he found an article about a woman from a couple weeks prior. The girl had dark skin tones, possibly a foreign given the name and her physical traits. She was beautiful, the image that headed the article was of her floating in a pool with a dark pink wet suit on. As he read through the article, it stated she had gone missing suddenly and there were no leads as to what had happened. She was last seen working at the Aquarium, preparing for a show with one of the main attractions. At the bottom of the article was another image, of her swimming with the pink hued dolphin from the above video. It stated that she was the personal handler and trainer for Pastel the pink Dolphin.
Miles sighed, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had just finished two of his latest pieces and was looking for another. This one was kind of interesting though since the men in the truck had a lot of expensive high tech equipment and what was going on was illegal. And Trager was known for having questionable alliances. Several times it has been brought into question as to where he accumulates suspiciously large sums of money for the program. He says itâs all very generous anonymous donations. Without any solid proof that it is dirty money or actual anonymous assistance, nobody has been able to get very far in their investigations.
Miles groaned, shaking his head and cursing himself and his weak spot for animals. He didnât sympathize with PETA people one bit when they get harassed but illegal killing and harming of animals made his stomach twist up into knots. Not saying he will turn down a nice big juicy burger with a side of bacon or skip over on the steak dinner on date nights, but other than that, he supported the whole survival of the fittest thing and the fact humans are natural carnivores and meat just naturally tastes fucking delicious. He wasnât about to turn a blind eye to a bunch of black market poachers or overlook the chance to finally take down a well known sleaze bag of a man. It was just too good to pass up.
He downloaded the files onto a flash drive encase something happens to his laptop as backup evidence and tucked it away in safe keeping. Should anything happen to him, his best friend would know where to find it and who exactly to go after for the journalistâs sudden disappearance. After that, he did some double checking on his camera, switched out the memory card to a fresh one and put a few extra batteries in his pocket. He snatched up his keys and to his jeep he went, prepared to get into the thick of this investigation and quick. He was already getting immensely bored.
It took him an hourâs drive to reach the Aquarium and the place looked just as shitty and dilapidated as in the video. It had been a while since he had been here of all places. Actually the last time he went was for a school  field trip. The place was under different management at the time and wasnât as creepy or shitty. But then the previous owner fell ill about a year later and died mysteriously. Nobody could figure out what was wrong but they assumed it was just the stress finally got one over on them and moved on.
The building was the same old large concrete compound with crappy shingling on the roof that looked about ready to all come tumbling off. The sidewalk leading up to the building was cracked and the entire back side wall facing the parking lot had structural damage from the wear and tear of the weather. There was a large metal panel fence that blocked the view of the outdoor pools and tanks where the shows were held, barbed wiring kept people from climbing up and over. He wandered around the exterior for some time before he finally found the door he was looking for. Itâs frame work was worn out and the door frame itself was bowing in places. A few choice spots pressed against and some finagling of the lock with an ID card and he was inside through the back service door.
It let him into a maintenance bay full of massive containers and pipe systems. It was sweltering inside compared to the outdoors, the heat coming from all the hard working heavy machinery. On top of that, it was incredibly loud, making his ears ring as he turned on his camera and used it to navigate through the darker points of the bay. Following the signs out to the tanks and around the feeding pens where large amounts of frozen sardines and feeder fish were kept for the larger marine life. The stench of fish was overwhelming and stung at his nostrils. He cursed, swearing that this smell was going to follow him for a while after this case. He walked along a catwalk that went out towards the center of one of the largest of the pools. Leaning over the railing, he got a good look at the marine life below, or lack thereof. There were three other pools in the outdoor area that were empty as well. He made a sound as he back tracked, following the maintenance path and working open yet another locked door to let him into the indoor area.
There the smell of salt water and the stench of fish hit him, making him stop in his tracks and press the sleeve of his jacket up against his face. He grimace, giving a shudder of disgust and pushing onward. The saltiness in the air made his eyes sting as he followed yet another darkened catwalk past a series of water tanks that regulated and cleansed the water in the pools. Two of the larger cleansing filters were off, giving his ears a brief reprieve from the loud whirring noise. He worked his way further in, looking at the pipe systems and finally crossing yet another locked threshold and entering the much quieter pool room.
He flashed his camera around trying to get a good shot of the large facility and the occupants within. Or the emptiness of the tanks. There were four massive tanks easily labeled for each animal that was supposed to reside within. Two dolphin tanks, an Orca tank and then there was a manatee tank. The seal tank and turtle tanks were up ahead in another section of the pools but he didnât move from where he was just yet. One of the tanks that was empty was labeled for âPastel the Pink Dolphinâ. The pool itself had a strange hue to the water making it look darker than the rest of the tanks. He noted the filtration system was shut off for this one as the flow of the water and its surface was undisturbed by ripples.
Leaning over the edge of the catwalk, he set his camera off to the side to get a better look at the water. Scooping it up into his hands to glance over it. The scent of the salt couldnât cover up the bone chilling metallic smell that permeating from the surface. The water was cold and in his palms were small congealed lumps of what he could only assume was blood. He cursed and reached out for his camera once again only to find it wasnât in place. He looked up to find a large hulking form of one of the men he had seen in the video. Turning quickly, he moved into a crouch, about to back off when he was grabbed up from behind. Large meaty hands reaching around to his front and hooking their forearm up against his throat and pulling back. One of his arms was pinned painfully up against his spine and twisted.
A nasally voice gave a mirthless laugh of delight. It scraped on Milesâ nerves as he recognized the voice. The tall beaky nosed doctor stepped through the threshold of the maintenance room and clapped a firm hand over the larger bald maleâs form. The signal was enough to make the man back off, holding out the camera to the doctor as he examined it. Miles gritted his teeth as the footage was looked over, a smug smile spread across his face as he aimed it towards Miles.
âWell now, the little mouse has finally been caught. Tough luck buddy.â Trager chuckled, bringing the camera right up to Milesâ face and getting a good long shot at the disheveled brunette. Glossing over emerald eyes that glared daggers back at the doctor. âHm, now what to do? What to do? You look a little hot headed there buddy. You know what, I think I have the perfect cure for that.â Trager snapped his fingers and Miles was jerked at an awkward angle and pressed up against the railing. The small chain that prevented people from falling in was moved and the large male at his back held him there.
âYouâre fucking nuts! Let me go you bastards!â Trager pressed something cold against Milesâ neck, teasing a needle across his skin.
Miles clammed up, his body going rigid and emerald eyes widening as the doctor grinned. A low sound of triumph leaving his lips and ghosting over Milesâ ear. âLetâs see how well this one can swim.â He pressed the needle into Milesâ neck and forced the acrid fluid inside his veins. It burned immensely, drawing a groan from the brunette. They waited a moment more before the needle was removed and the large male pushed the journalist over the edge and into the pool. The doctor recorded the spectacle as Miles struggled to swim. His arms flailing around uselessly. His entire body felt far too heavy as his limbs began to go numb and fall asleep on him. He felt paralyzed and dizzy.
He started to sink and before he could catch himself, he slipped beneath the surface of that bloodied water. The metallic tang rushed over his tongue and his lungs burned for oxygen as he sank deeper and deeper into the darkness of the tank. The salt water burning his eyes and the overwhelming dizziness of suffocation rushed over him. His thoughts were broken. Clinging to the need to swim. To move but not a single muscle wanted to budge or obey. He could barely see the shadows above watching his demise as his vision blurred and darkened and the exhausting urge to sleep claimed him.
Upon seeing the male sink to the bottom and the last signs of breathing had left the brunetteâs form in rising bubbles, the doctor purred with an idea. âPull him back out. I want him taken to my lab immediately.â The doctor barked before turning away from the tank. The two large men looked at each other and grunted in annoyance as one dove into the tank to retrieve the pesky mouse of a journalist. The body wasnât breathing when they pulled him out but the doctor didnât say anything about reviving him. Â By time they lugged the form back to Tragerâs lab which was set up like a massive surgical room used most often for emergency medical work on the occupants of the aquarium. Everything was already prepared for the maleâs arrive. The doctor held a pair of shears which he used to cut off every last piece of the brunetteâs clothing, depositing it off to the side and starting his work to restart the journalistâs heart. It took a few minutes but the monitor showed it was successful with the steady beating of a young and healthy heart, accented with every beep of the high points.
The maleâs body was pale, stripped down to nothing and lying on the cold metal table like a piece of meat and to the doctor, that was pretty much all he was. That is until he turns him into a masterpiece. The culmination of all his research and preparation rolled into one fantastic result. Â
It took two entire days to accomplish. Endless work and tests and three different times his specimen flat lined on him but the mad doctor didnât give up. He was nothing if not determined, especially with something he has his heart set on. This would be the highlight of his career. A beautiful transformation of lowly useless man into a creature beyond myth. He wasnât going to let it slip through his fingers and he couldnât have asked for a better specimen. He wasnât in the best health considering he showed signs of being a smoker but that didnât matter now. The rest of him was perfectly fit and toned. Healthy weight and body size, his body was much more accepting to change and he was durable. God was it durable. Perfection at itâs best. The mad doctor just wished he had several more at his disposal.
First and foremost, the legs had to go. It was problematic for his intended needs. They were useless anyway with what Trager was anticipating. He would give him something better, much much better. There was a lot of tedious work, a lot of substitution and alterations, not just with the exterior of his specimen but his organs and nerves had some troubles âreconnectingâ to the new parts.  There were a few times that he thought it wouldnât work and was about to change his plans when heâd find the perfect route to go. The grafting of skin was another problem  but he figured that out as well with time. Even added a few smaller additions to help his new âpetâ be more obedient.
The end result was mesmerizing and was like something out of a science fiction movie but oh, that just made it all the more exciting. He kept his pet under a drug induced sleep for another whole week so it would heal and there wouldnât be anything stressing it out and ruining all of his hard work. He filmed the simpler tests such as touch and light electrical stimulation. He took photos of the progress as he went along and tended to the surgical incisions as they healed. Ensuring they wouldnât tear or break.
The final day came where the drugs would wear off and the fruits of his labor could be realized. It took a few hours for the drugs to fade before the brunette male started to stir. His emerald eyes struggled to focus, a heavy film had settled over them that made it hard to peer through the blurry vision. He blinked it away his head felt far too heavy and his body wouldnât move like he wanted it to. He whimpered pitifully, the sound was more of a squeak that left his throat. He felt something cold lapping at his form. Water rippling around his body as a filtration system hummed softly in the small wading pool. It wasnât very deep, just half a foot or so. The water was strange but the fog in his mind wouldnât allow him to think on it too much. He was wading through the heavy mists that clouded his thoughts, making it hard to piece things together.
His eyes glanced around at the darker room. The only light illuminating it was from the lining of the pool. His gaze hovered over the odd hump rising out of the water, the strange crescent curve that rested on the surface and the pointed dorsal like attachment. âFishâŚâ Was the first thing that crossed his mind. Everything felt hazy and dreamlike as he reached a hand out to touch it. To make sure it was really there. His fingertips pressing over the soft smooth grey flesh. The white streaks along the sides that caught the glow of the lighting just right. A shiver ran through him, a strange sensitive tingly sensation like something was touching his side. When he pulled his hand back lazily, the sensation stopped. He did it again, stroking the hump of flesh and it returned.
It took him several minutes to catch on that the sensation was caused by his own touch. He shifted in place and the rest of the form moved too, the crescent end curled up and splashed the water out of the tank. He jerked and it did it again. The body writhing as he tried to move his legs to crawl away. He clutched at the clear glass sides of the pool and pulled at them to get his feet underneath him but pain jolted through his abdomen. A deep ache that caught him by surprise and he buckled over, grasping at his hollow empty stomach. He shivered, his body trembling with weakness and the struggle to move what didnât want to obey him.
His legs didnât want to work well, they felt heavy and dead to him. He pulled himself along the glass, flexing his bare torso and muscular shoulders in the process, the ache of weakness making them burn from the lack of use. He opened his mouth to speak, giving a cry for help. A desperate pleas to anybody but all that came out was a shriek. High pitch and more whistle like. His throat burned with the sound as he reached up to caress it. There was a soft line in his skin right over the dip where his vocal cords were. He rubbed his fingers over it, recognizing it for a surgical incision. Or at least a healed one. He looked down at himself, patting at his torso when he realized the grey form was connected to his torso. He jolted, giving another shrill cry out that was disrupted by the sound of laughter nearby.
His emerald eyes were wide and frightened as he gazed upon the doctor. He had Milesâ camera in hand, recording every second of his specimenâs awakening. âYou can scream and cry all you want, but nobody will hear you. Besides, you canât speak. I made certain of that. No point in having the perfect pet if itâs got a mouth on it.â The doctor chuckled again and moved towards the tank. Miles drew away from the edge but it was futile. The pool was small enough that the doctor could reach him from any side. A hand dipped down into the cooler temperature of the water, Miles thought it was cold but to the doctor it was lukewarm. His fingers curled over the massive dolphin tail that rested just beneath the surface and stroked the edge. A long sharp whistling sound left Milesâ chest as he jerked away. The stimulation sent tingling shocks all the way up his tail and into his spine.
He whimpered, feeling the tears brim at his eyes from the realization. âThis canât be fucking happening. This isnât real. Â It canât be.â The doctor walked along the edge of the tank towards where Miles had pressed his back against the glass. Kneeling down beside it, Miles took in the close proximity of the male as an instinctive defensive response kicked in. He lunged, striking out at the doctor and hitting him hard enough to knock his glasses off his face and to the floor. Trager was momentarily blindsided but he recovered quickly with a backhand to the brunetteâs cheek, knocking him back into the glass. Milesâ body jerked, the tail splashing pitifully in an attempt to gain leverage in the water. Trager bent over and retrieved his spectacles, placing them over the pale grey eyes, they were cold and harsh compared to the earlier laughter that left his chest. He fixed the camera in hand, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Dangerous and cruel as he reached into his lab coat pocket. âI see youâre in need of some training then pet. I think I can handle that.â
Milesâ eyes widened as the doctorâs hand shifted in the pocket, a soft clicking like a dial being scaled up sounded. He felt something inside his body clench tightly. His stomach twisting in fear before a humming could be heard. A sudden terrible sensation jolted through his body, startling and terrifying as his back arched and what little strength he had withered. Shrill squeals and cries filled the air as he writhed, the humming was deep inside his abdomen, where the surgical incision laid out the map work where fish and man joined together. âMisbehavior and disobedience will be swiftly dealt with.â The doctor crooned. âI kept your organs and bodily functions intact. Including your prostate. A simple stimulant applied to the spot before the second phase began and it works just as easily as a shock collar does a worthless mongrel.â The vibrations were maddening as heat bubbled inside him. Tears peaked at the corners of his eyes as a sour bile rose in his throat. He was helpless. This man, this monster had him and there was nothing he could do. He was a monster.
The doctor knelt down beside Milesâ form as it lay collapsed and spasming from the toy, his tail twitching and curling, small splashed swirled in the waters but he didnât mind. He placed a hand over the maleâs abdomen, trailing gloved fingers over the incisions, inspecting them for any irritation or breaks. He splayed his fingers out and applied slight pressure, feeling for any internal hemorrhaging from the upset. He nearly forgot about the stimulant but when the brunette shrieked at him, bleary emerald orbs streaking tears down his face and mixing with the pool around him. He clicked his tongue, giving Milesâ a stern look. âWill you obey like a good boy?â Miles bit back the acrid taste in his throat and swallowed thickly. His throat felt swollen and it was hard to breath. He gasped, his body trembling as he gave a weak nod.
Trager gave a pleased smile that further sickened the brunette. He held completely still as the dial was turned off and the vibrations faded out. The doctor noted the brunette was shivering afterwards, noting the twisted despair in his features but only raising the camera and zooming in with a sickening amount of amusement. Miles felt completely and utterly violated. This body wasnât his anymore. It wasnât even human anymore and this manâŚ.His breath hitched when the gloved hand moved over his abdomen again, applying pressure in sore and tender areas.
Small shrieks and whistling sounds left Milesâ throat as he endured the inspection. The hand rolling down along his tail and caressing the hump and dips where it curved. Fingertips sliding up and over the dorsal fin as he was pushed over onto his side with a nudge. Miles clutched at the sides of the pool to try and support himself as those hands touched all over his body. The camera following every inch of the process with disturbing precision. âMagnificent.â Trager purred, gripping Milesâ bicep and yanking him back over to face him. A damp latex glove gripped his chin as the camera was focused on his features. âI can feel the growls of your empty stomach. Now is a perfect time for feeding. Gotta make sure I didnât connect the wrong tubes in your guts together.â He grinned, a sharp laugh trickling out as he added. âOh well, any complications can always be fixed with some corrective surgery. Know what I mean?â The man drank up the terrified expression on the young journalistâs face as he backed away, holding up the camera for one last shot before he left his specimen. He chimed cheerfully. âSmile for the camera.â
