#subject 176

He’d overseen and participated in a majority of the experiments, had been the one to update the security measures to her holding cell, one of those who had laughed the loudest; he wasn’t laughing now, not even a hint of a smile, his expression severe as he stared in at her through the tempered glass...it was unnerving, but her mask never slipped, remaining cold and emotionless as she returned his gaze, unblinking.

The hiss of the hydraulic doors sliding open, and though outwardly relaxed, her stomach tensed instinctively, bracing for the inevitable blinding pain of the air being forcibly expelled from her lungs, being incapable of drawing a single breath as they flipped the electromagnetic pulse that paralyzed her, blinded her, silenced her voice, and made the scar that cleaved through her torso split apart when increased.

...it didn’t come - nor did the usual gurney with thick magnetic strips to bind her in place and keep her still; he on the other hand, entered the space, armed only with a thick black sheet, an eyebrow raising slightly as he offered it to her, shaking his head as she didn’t so much as lift a finger to accept it, moving forward and draping the fabric over her head and shoulders, tugging her to her feet so quickly that she stumbled as she was half pushed, half dragged out of the cell and into a hallway that was mercifully empty.

“We don’t have a lot of time, Beavis - move it.”

Her steps became more fluid, moving at the hurried pace he set with far longer legs, bewilderment not evident on her face, outwardly neutral while her mind raced frenetically - there was no way that they weren’t being captured in real time on the hundreds of security cameras that lined the corridors...it was as though he read her thoughts.

“I have them on a looped feed, same with the mics - we only have fifteen minutes, so pick up the pace.”

Why was he doing this? He stood to gain nothing from this, and in fact would lose everything...absolutely everything if they found out he was behind this - yes, he had proven himself absolutely meticulous throughout the years she’d been held captive, but he wasn’t perfect...no one was.

“...you know that death will be a mercy if they figure out what you’ve done, right Butthead?”

“If.”

Pet names spoken in a different tone - hers no longer dripping with a thick, viscous layer of condescension, his lacking the blood that coated her tongue, and the venom that clung to her lips as she stared coldly up at his mocking sneer from where she was bound to a specially crafted stretcher; footfalls quick and purposeful on ceramic tiles, the grip of his large hand on her shoulder tight, urging her to move faster.

“...why are you doing this?”

That was the million dollar question as a leather gloved hand punched in a alphanumeric code into a keypad, rushing her into a sterilization chamber, vapor filling the space before the secondary set of hydraulic doors opened, dashing up several sets of industrial stairs before throwing open the door that led into Murkoff Tactical’s military hanger, cold cement under barefeet and well lacquered dress shoes, a final push before that hand that grasped her released its hold as she took her first steps outside of the facility.

“If it helps you sleep at night, consider it another experiment to see how long you can fly under the radar without being found...or maybe I’ve finally gone soft from too many hits of nose candy over the years - who can really say? ...now get out of here Mags...don’t get caught.”

She stood there, fingers twisting into the the dark fabric as her lungs filled with the first breath of fresh air she’d been afforded in god only new how long, gaze drinking in the old growth forest that surrounded the facilities, turning back towards the giant of a man, her mask slipping, if only for a moment, as a small genuine smile warmed icy features.

“...noted...goodbye Garrett...I’ll ask you do the same.”

Just because it’s nigh impossible for Maggie to truly die, doesn’t mean her healing factor doesn’t come without severe drawbacks; none of the pain involved with would-be fatal blows is spared, and is in fact prolonged as she experiences them, technically twice over - both on the initial impact and in reverse as the nanites repair her damaged tissue and systems, and replenishes her blood supply.

This in and of itself is bad enough, but when she experiences enough anguish in a short period, it alters her mental state and causes her to enter a berserker state where she attacks anything that moves, her mind clinging to the raw primal instinct and desperation wrought from decades of prolonged torture of wanting to make the source of her pain stop, and thus will maim anyone or anything in the vicinity until whomever or whatever it may be stops moving entirely, often resulting in death.