Bioshock, origins of a Cyborg Wolf, Part one
I shot up from my bare mattress in the dark, my ‘limbs’ whirring softly with the jerking motion. My breath mists out from the cold in the moonlight in front of me, the hole in the ceiling failing to keep any warmth inside. The nightmares had been bad tonight… or maybe it was more proper to call them memories. A small groan escapes my muzzle as my mind starts treading down the well worn path of memory, despite my wishes not to revisit that place. I remember it too well. No One should remember their own birth.
Pain. That was all I remembered when I woke up, was the pain. Pain from the bright lights in my eyes whenever I opened them as the lights above rushed passed. Pain from the shackles on my wrists and ankles. Pain from my mutilated arm, leg, and right eye. Even pain from the sound of the gurney being pushed down some hallway. Pain throughout my body caused me to black out once more. As I did the questions started forming in my mind. 'Who am I?’ 'Where am I?’ 'What is this place?’ 'Why am I here?’, and those were just the biggest ones nagging me.
The next time I woke up there were masked men and women around me, poking me with different instruments. I tried to move, the leather medical shackles held me down and one of the nurses placed a breathing mask around my muzzle which soon forced back under, the last thing I heard before unconsciousness took me again was an electrical motor and the whirl of a bone saw.
When I arose again I felt different, almost unnatural. Looking down I saw that they had replaced my arm and leg with these… things, these robotic limbs. And then I felt something else. I could feel these tiny machines working inside me, healing me, making me stronger. And I didn't just feel them, I could hear their thoughts, their basic programs course through my mind,and I realized that I could control them, make them do what I want.
That's when the doctor came in. He was this little rat morph that looked like he was more a scientist then a doctor. He explained to me that I was a soldier and that I had a nasty accident with an IDE where I was stationed. Somehow I felt this was a lie, but I had no memories to go off of, so I begrudgingly accepted them as the truth. I looked around the room and noticed a mirror hanging on the wall, and weakly shifted to stand, having noticed that the shackles had long since been removed, shaky on my feet I slowly made my way over to see what the panel of polished metal and glass would reveal to me.
In the mirror I saw features that I worked out as mine, a tall black wolf morph standing at just under six foot, broad shoulders, and on what remained of my organic parts, toned muscles that spoke of years of near constant training and exercise. Scanning up I see that my left eye was still it's normal deep sapphire blue and glancing back down at the crook of my neck was a white diamond shaped blaze.
I then took in the next parts that now replaced my missing limbs and eye. The features of the cyborg freaked me out. My right eye, instead of matching my left, was this camera like ball with the inner pupil glowing a deep crimson red. I look down and take into account my arm, chest and leg.
They were made from this silvery chrome like material that seemed lighter than what I thought most metals would be but seemed much stronger than the bright silvery metal it imitated. The rat continues to explain that due to the extensive damage to my limbs and eye had taken, they were forced to replace them. I gave my acknowledgement and returned to sitting on the bed. He went on to explain what was going to happen the following days, which included extensive physical therapy
The next few days were a blur. Most of the time I was made to do the physical therapy he mentioned as a way that I could get used to my new limbs, that was also when they started showing me the weaponization they did to me. The different weapons went from blasters and rockets in my arm to the duel use of this axe they made, showing me how they can be converted to a pair of wings when attached to these two weird slots in my back that I hadn't noticed on my first inspection of myself due to them being in a place I didn't think to look before. Even my fingers had retractable claws that were far sharper than a feral cat or bears are. My leg even had a miniaturized booster rocket that could propel me in any direction I chose.
This is also when I realized that these enhancements were not to benefit me but the many other military operations that were being held around the compound where this lab was located.
These scientists were trying to make the ultimate super soldier and so far I was their greatest achievement. So I started to devise a plan to end their experimentation once and for all.
The day before I had planned to break out the rat told me that I was to put on a demonstration of what I and my equipment could do. After showing me off to the generals of various nation's and factions watching all I could do, he explained that my axe, when thrown, had the ability to return to my robotic hand no matter what material it stuck in, almost similar to the comic hero, Thor with his hammer. This pushed my timeline up to that night. When night finally fell and while the scientists were shutting down the facility, I broke loose by using the abilities I had been given, clawing and cutting down anyone and everyone that tried got in my way.
These new feelings towards these people, anger mixed with adrenaline and a sickening satisfaction of revenge, rushed through me as I sliced each person down. Unfortunately the rat bastard that made all of this happen managed to escape, so I made my way to where the generators were and, with the help of my nanites, forced the power supplies to overload and explode. The resulting EMP burst caused every computerized machine to overload or cease to function if it wasn't shielded. Fortunately for me I was one of those that was and I made my way out of and away from the god awful place.
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That was all in 2315. Ten years have passed since then and I have been on the run ever since, never staying in one place for too long in case whatever military faction was having me created came looking for me. Since I have no memory of my past or any record of my name other than a set of dog tags, I've come to call myself different names to try and keep myself hidden. The name they gave me though was Bioshock, at least that was the name engraved on my tags. I'm not sure if it was a nickname or something but it was all I have to go on.
Since that fateful night I have taken up working as a hired bodyguard and mercenary. I know, I know. You're thinking 'Why continue with military-like work when I was so desperately trying to avoid it?’ well my answer to this is, I had no other choice. I do it because no matter where I go now, I'm seen as a freak, a monster if you will, and the only ones that seem to accept me are those that want to use me, but I do have my limits and morals, I will never work for anyone that seems to want destroy others just for their own benefit nor those of evil intentions. I've done everything from drug running to hired hits of people who had or were doing things that went against my morals.
I figured why not, it didn't feel like I would get anywhere with anyone and that with the way I was I wouldn't be of anyone's tastes or had the need to impress anyone.
But that all changed though, the night I walked into this mom and pop diner. I was hungry and traveling for my next job and had stopped for a bite. I sat down at a table and looked over the menu, ignoring the odd stares and glares I was getting from staff and fellow patrons alike, except for her. The name her tag read Angeline and her name couldn't have described her any better.
She was this beautiful white husky with long brown hair, deep emerald green eyes, an ample CC cup, maybe D, sized bust and hips that looked like they belonged to a mother as well as a dancer rather than a waitress. She was wearing the typical diner waitress uniform, calf length yellow dress with a white apron, calf high stockings and a pair of black flats. She wasn't model skinny but then again she wasn't obese either. She came up to my table and gave me a smile as she opened her order pad.
“How are you doing tonight? My name's Angeline and I'll be your waitress this evening. Tonight's special is beef stew with a side of fries. Can I start you off with something to drink?” She asked, her voice sounding like those of her namesake.
“Hmm I think I'll have one of the specials with a raspberry iced tea...” I requested and then being the sly dog that I hoped I was, “And the number of the pretty young thing serving me.” I joke and follow with, “Got any plans for after your shift?”
She blushed and giggled “Hmm none that I can rightly think of stud, why? You got an idea or two?”
This made me chuckle. “I could think up a few things, the names Jack”
She gives me a once over and her smile never fades “Well Mr. Jack let me get your order going and check on some of my other customers and we can see where we can go from there.”
I nodded and gave her another once as she walked away and I licked my chops, thinking of all the things I could do to her.
