[center][img]http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo63/NMShape/coollogo_com-8436681_zps421d5ea2.png[/img][/center] He was uncertain what was going on. The first sensation that he had been graced with upon his awakening was a terrible pain in his head and a feeling of heaviness that made it hard to move his limbs. And there was this abominable itch in his hands and feet. Though he had quickly realized that his limbs were also restrained by metal shackles that held him down upon the table that he had woken up upon. Attempts to turn his head to either side only proved to be more confusing as the room looked like something that belonged in a horror movie far more than something that anyone would see in real life. Harsh florescent lights illuminated the room with an intense radiance that left almost no place for shadows and was painful enough that he could not see without squinting. Strange devices that he could not identify surrounded the metal table that he was strapped to and though he strained against the metal shackles he did not have any luck breaking free and there seemed to be no give in them. The man could not remember how he had come to be in this position, the last thing he remembered was a foul smell as he had walked down an alley and then there was nothing but darkness until he had woken up. The harsh sound of industrial air filters whirring in the background made it difficult for him to notice the other sound at first. A heavy and labored sound of breathing through a filter, a sound that had been so distinctive that it had inspired many others to adopt it for cinematic villains. The man managed to crane his head up enough to get a look ahead in an attempt to see where the sound was coming from and was rewarded for it by a vision that he recognized with incredulity and surprise. "What the fuck?!" issued forth with surprise as he took in the sight before him. A man stood on the other side of a transparent wall of reinforced glass, a man clad in an archaic black uniform of a style that had fallen out of fashion since the second world war. Six diagonal lines of crimson were emblazoned on the collar of the uniform and a mantle of fur hung from the man's shoulders as another element of his rank. But most distinctive was the mask, a symbol so iconic that there were few even 70 years later who did not recognize it. The six red visor slits that slashed across the matte black mask, and the three filters that were clustered around where the mouth would be. The man actually managed a laugh in the face of the specter. Clearly this had to be some sort of elaborate joke, some of his buddies were playing a prank on him and they had gotten quite a realistic set up made for that effort. "Alright guys, you can fess up now. It's a damned impressive one but you've outdone yourselves." But the only reply came from the hissing and crackling voice that whispered through the filters. "Begin the test." That was all the voice said and as it finished the man outside the chamber pressed a button on a control panel. A robotic arm with a syringe filled with a vicious green fluid extended out of the slab that the man was pressed against and then plunged into his arm. There was a cry of pain and another vocal objection. "What the fuck are you doing?" But then the real pain began. Bones cracked and skin tore apart as muscles grew and bulged outwards, the man's body suddenly convulsing and changing in response to the compound that had been pumped into him. But the man did not simply tear himself to pieces, as the spasms continued pieces of his skin began to knit back together over the new musculature and bones. And eventually the spasms would cease altogether and what remained of the man was left as a truly grotesque monster. The screaming though did not stop, it was as if some fragment of humanity still remained within the tortured man who had been changed. The only response that the screaming received was another press of a button which caused the audio feed from the room to suddenly cut out. "Test successful, mutagen agent identified. Activate disposal procedures." And the Good Doctor simply turned away from the glass and walked away to the next of many such chambers where another poor soul was wondering how they possibly had ended up there.