With the completion of the first stage of their project, the scientists drained the tank to prepare the subject’s transfer; to what would become its home for the foreseeable future. It took five people to carry ‘it’ to the room and strap ‘it’ to a table with multiple shackles to hold ‘it’ down they left as ‘it’ was coming around.

Subject's pov

Ughh my head hurts so much, the hell is going on? Ragh its so bright. Hm why cant I move? For that matter where am I?

I begin to struggle and breath roughly trying to ascertain what’s going on. Only growing more worried and frightened with my lack of movement. The room I am in slowly comes to focus and I find myself in a clinical white room that seems to have a sort of sci-fi vibe to it. And I can only ascertain that I am strapped to a table.

It is while I am struggling, that something I never thought I would meet enters the room. It was a goddamned alien one that looked similar to Greedo from Star Wars, seeing this made my brain freeze and I stopped moving for a while.

As I lay still, ‘Greedo’ slowly approached me speaking in another language. Other aliens entered the room as well, but pushing trolleys and began setting up tables around me like an operating theatre. As they moved about I got this feeling, that they held a malicious intent towards me and it wasn’t from the obviously suspicious trolleys, but like I was reading their minds almost.

I was slowly drawing a picture of what the situation was and it wasn’t looking good. Greedo went to one of the trolleys and took something sharp out of it and proceeded to approach me. He then went and made an incision into my chest. As he did this what came to my attention was not the lack of pain but the fact that my chest was purple and looked as if I had no skin, just muscle. The fact I didn’t feel any pain was barely registering with me at this moment.

Unfortunately this shock did not last long as I was soon injected with something that amplified my senses; particularly my sense of pain. And so began my hellish torture. They would make cuts along my limbs and body and place some sort of egg inside, which quickly hatched and began eating away at me. They even went as far as amputating my limbs, which is when I learnt that I could re-grow entire limbs.

After an eternity of this torture, I’m unsure as to how long, my mind slowly began to drift off and I could swear that I could see my new self, strapped down and bloody. And Greedo was making his way towards my new effeminate head with a pointy tool. I blacked out soon after.

I awoke in the same room, still strapped down, feeling aches all throughout my body and head as well. There was a screen before me, with text scrolling across it and funnily enough I could understand it even though it wasn’t written in English. It seemed to be schematics to a spaceship, showing were wires went what they did and how to access them. This information seemed to just flow into my mind. The text changed to a different schematic and repeated the process. It also showed schematics for guns and other weapons. How to build bombs. Security systems and other useful information. This continued for hours maybe even days and by the end of it I was sure I could build my own ship if I had the resources.

After this influx of information I once more blacked out. Upon waking up I was still in the same room, but no longer strapped to the table it had in fact disappeared along with the screen. With this new found freedom I got up and began to look around the room for something, anything, it didn’t matter what but I didn’t find anything. Frustrated I hit the wall, reminding me of my new purple body.

With nothing else to do I decided to check out my body. It seemed that I was rather tall and wide, with particularly long limbs that felt loose or not attuned, like they were weak but just need to be tensed or tightened like a guitar string. In a moment of curiosity I tried tensing my body to will into tune, to what feels right. This was met with some success as I shrank somewhat and my limbs rather than looking like my muscles had exploded, became tight and packed much like an athletes; resembling skin with lots of lines, from my muscles being packed together. If I were to guess I would say I’m now around two and a half metres tall and resemble an Amazonian in stature due to my long hair, wide hips, large chest and strong build.

With this change I felt stronger more sturdy and better balanced. My senses seemed to have grown as well, I could feel the air touch upon me as I breathed and moved. And even more surprising I could feel my blood pumping through me and my body subconsciously tensing as blood passed by, as if it was pumping my blood and not my heart. Despite all of this new found strength I still felt out of tune.

Despite my new found interest in my body, I didn’t have time to study and mess around with it as a door opened and a Duros walked in. Large eyed, bulbous head with long fingers, pretty alien by human standards, it was even grey. Wearing a loose fitting grey tank top and tracksuit bottoms. Anyway he approached me and immediately began beating on me, with quick jabs and kicks transitioning into throws aiming to inflict as much pain as possible.

I tried to put up a fight but it didn’t amount to much, despite my strength, resilience to pain and ability to heal and lack of bones to break. After a thorough beating he pulled me up onto my feet and started moving my limbs and putting me into a stance which was when it hit me that he was here to teach me how to fight.

He then went through some forms for me to copy, as I demonstrated them he would correct them and either grunt in approval or disapproval. Little more than that happened and this soon became my daily routine. Get beat up trying to defend myself, then go through the forms. In a way it was a bit like learning to dance, though rather than moving in synch with your partner you try and catch them off guard. Suffice to say I was the one caught off guard.

It was a week into this new routine that I thought that i wasn’t meant for this sort of life. Growing up in a peaceful society where fighting wasn’t looked upon to greatly and there was no need for it in daily life. And I in particular was raised with little conflict in my life, a sheltered life really. But if I don’t adapt to this I’m likely not to survive and I have a strong feeling that this is pretty tame compared to what is to come.

It took about two months for me to soundly beat my teacher and that was more due to my constitution than skill, but that was apparently enough as the next day someone else came in and repeated the process over again in another style; and that to came to an end in time and was switched to other styles including armed martial arts.

I later came to learn that the styles I was taught were Echani Martial Arts, common throughout the galaxy and taught in the military. Teras Kasi developed specifically to combat Jedis unarmed. Mandalorian fighting tactics, taught to all Mandalorians. I was also taught by experts in other fields like the Noghri, renowned for their stealth and assassination skills. Overall I was taught many generalised and specialised styles, so that I could supposedly fight in any situation.

The armed combat training was particularly tough on me, as they didn’t hold back from going for fatal blows. This rigorous and brutal training was slowly working away at my mind; numbing it and blurring the days together. I was losing my sense of self, becoming almost robotic only following the given commands. Get up! Fight! Rest! When I realised this I tried to hold onto my identity and think of my family, but found that I was forgetting what they looked like which shocked and saddened me. This only got worse and worse. The training was systematically breaking me down and rebuilding me.

It was in one of my many lessons where I was fighting a teaching, that I fell into a rhythm or a trance like state even. In the back of my mind music began playing quiet at first, but it grew in intensity quickly; it was one I recognised, one that held meaning in my previous life. It was ‘Eye of the tiger’ an iconic song that always managed to get me riled up.

I began to move to the beat and fight back with renewed vigour. As I started gaining ground on my teacher, I was slowly overcome by my bottled up rage and anger over my situation and went into something of a controlled frenzy and began overwhelming my teacher finally striking him down, blood spaying out of him. With him down I let out a bestial raw and soon passed out.

Training from then on was different, rather than teaching me to fight they were teaching me to kill; they first started with droids that would only stop attacking with there complete destruction. When I got into the habit of breaking them in the most efficient way, and started doing it by second nature they began to send animals in.

I was rather hesitant to fight them, because I could feel the blind rage rolling off of them. Like they had no mind of their own, they were in a frenzied state and wouldn’t stop attacking me until I killed them. Worst of all once I did kill them I didn’t feel any guilt or any remorse just a begrudging acknowledgement, that I took a life. They repeated the process, forcing me to end their lives becoming more efficient each and every time; just in an effort to avoid making them suffer.

I had hoped they would stop sending the beasts in, but realised to late that it would mean moving to the next stage which would be people. It started with a lone Duros entering and charging me, to avoid any trouble I quickly broke their arms effectively disarming them. But they didn’t pay it any mind at all and began flailing at me trying to bite me.

Soon after various aliens in a similar state began to poor into the room and overwhelm me. Soon I was on the floor, tears streaming down my face with them tearing and kicking at me in a bid to end me. This continued for a few minutes with feelings of rage and fear building up in me. Until it exploded and my normally motionless hair struck out rapping around their necks in an attempt to throttle and snap their necks throwing them across the room, where they hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

The rest of my body quickly followed, with me lunging up swinging my claws up and tearing off someone’s jaw, following that with a round house kick to another’s head caving it in. I soon jumped to a larger gathering of people trying to get to me and started tearing and breaking my way through with no regard for them at all.

The once pure white room was slowly bathed in the red, green and blue blood of my victims. Until I was the only one left standing chest heaving with rage and adrenaline. I soon fell to my knees head hung in defeat, giving in to my fate to be used as a killing machine for who ever these monsters are. No longer the innocent person I was, now an abomination ready to be let loose upon my unsuspecting victims.