Chapter 22: Subject #54623

There are some things in life that people will never understand until they experience it for themselves, like losing a loved one, the pride of being a parent, utter depression, being in situations you can't escape, fear of death, not fitting in, etc.

Surprisingly, Danny could safely say he's experienced more than one of these examples. But there are certain things that no person on Earth should ever have to experience, say . . . being strapped to an examination table as rogue government agents plan on what to do with you.

Unfortunately for Danny, this is also another example he's had experience in. But it did little to curb his fear.

The familiar irritation of sharp metallic cuffs rubbing his wrists raw merely reminded the teen of just how much trouble he was in as he continued to fruitlessly yank on said restraints. Just as they had six years ago, the cuffs refused to give way.

And just like six years ago, the harsh lights overhead only made his heart beat faster as scientists in long white coats milled around him. At the moment, they didn't even look at him. They merely swapped files and traded tools, but they never approached him. It was almost as if they were waiting for some unspoken signal that would allow them to leap onto their specimen and tear him to pieces.

Unbeknownst to Danny, higher up behind the observation room windows, the head scientists continued to argue with each other back and forth.

"We can't just start performing random tests, Q! Not while we need him alive."

"Well I'm not about to cut his head off or anything, R, but we need to know if his bodily conditions are stable enough to interact with the extracter. Right now, we know absolutely nothing!"

"What about the information we documented when we first captured him? That had s to tell us something? Or ws it just a waste of time?!"

"Those files are outdated six years, R! Who knows how much he's changed over the past few years. We need to know more about him. His bone density. His organ positioning and functionality. His blood circulations. His brain waves. Something!"

"Alright then, so how exactly do you plan on finding out this information, huh? Most of the machines we have only work on full fledged ghost. How the hell are we supposed to alter them to pick up combined human and spectral waves?"

"I-I . ."

"What the hell do you need machines for?"

THe two scientists whipped around as the doors slid open, Fenton and Masters stalking inside. Fenton cast a glare down at the labs below and curled his lip at the specimen struggling in the restraints before turning back towards the confused scientists.

"Sir?" Agent Q asked.

"No really, I'm asking. What can those scans do that a plain old scalpel and microscope can't?" He asked once more.

Exchanging glances, the scientists both turned back towards the grey-suited man. "Are you saying we should . . ." Agent R started.

"I don't care what you have to do. Shock him, drown him, burn him, slash him, make him take the damn SATs, whatever! Find out everything you can about him." Jack growled before leaning in closer, grabbing the front of Q's suit. "And show no mercy." He snarled in a low voice.

Q and R silently nodded before rushing out of the room. Jack watched for a moment before he felt a rough hand grab his shoulder and pull him closer. "What the hell, Jack? I thought we needed him alive?" Vlad growled out.

Jack wrenched his shoulder free as he moved over towards the observation window. "We aren't going to kill him. What did those agents use to keep him alive last time they had him?" He asked, turning back towards the other.

Vlad narrowed his eyes in thought before lifting his head. "I think the files said something about ectoplasmic dosages that helped keep him alive after extensive testing but-"

"Then that's what we'll use." Jack cut him off. "But this halfa freak deserves everything that's coming to him. Besides . . . we can always make more." He grinned.

Back down in the labs, Danny watched as two new scientists entered the room, the others quieting down as they arrived. After a moment's hesitation, one of the men nodded his head. "Let's get to work!" He shouted, the others quickly rushing around the room once more.

Moving over towards the row of computers, monitors and machines that lines part of the back wall, Danny watched as the two agents kept their heads together as they spoke.

"First thing's first. We have to make sure he'll survive the extraction procedure, at least long enough to obtain enough energy." One agent stated, the other nodding as they moved over to one of the larger set of machines.

"How long does it last?" The other asked as he began to adjust the settings of certain dials and levers.

"I don't know. Depends on how strong the ghost is."

Reaching behind him, one agent pulled out and began skimming through a file, face scrunched up in thought. "Hmm . . . if these were his power levels six years ago, then we should probably crank up the simulator to full power."

Simulator? That doesn't sound fun.

"Yeah, make sure it lasts for a while, too." The other agreed.

At the snap of the agent's fingers, the other scientists in the room moved over to the back walls and strapped goggles onto their hands, leaning over monitors and computers that Danny bet had his vital signs and other information.

"Are we clear?" One agent asked.

No! We are not clear! We are very unclear! In fact, we are murky!

"Alright. Simulation in progress."

Danny watched as the lights around the room instantly dimmed as a loud humming filled the air. He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as the table began to vibrate uncomfortably. Slowly, the feeling switched from uncomfortable to painful as he felt his muscles begin to constrict.

Eventually he had to clamp his teeth to stop the scream from escaping his mouth as electrical pulses began to course through his body, spreading from his limbs to his core as they tried to rip him apart from the inside out. Finally he couldn't hold his screams back anymore as white hot flames shot through him, ripping at his muscles, splintering his bones, boiling his blood as he arched his back and withered in pain on the steel table.

He had experienced electrocution before, but nothing like this. Never like this. His eyes were squeezed so tightly, they were beginning to hurt. But that mild discomfort was nothing compared to the sharp pulses that threatened to shatter his bones and burn his skin as every cell in his body was ripped and assaulted.

Tears began to stream down his face as his vocal cords were rubbed raw. His body convulsed uncontrollably as the bright metal cuffs began to burn into his skin. He was vaguely aware of loud voices floating in the air but he couldn't process what they were saying or who was saying it. Where was he? Who was speaking?

Everything was muffled and blurry and he couldn't grasp anything mentally other than that the pain refused to stop. He tried desperately to draw in another breath, but his lungs wouldn't work. He couldn't do anything other than scream. Fires eventually burned out themselves, so why wasn't this one? Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't it stop?!

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime - his vocals now completely torn and shredded - the currents began to subside before coming to a stop. Danny gasped for air as his chest heaved and his body fell limp. His eyelids drooped as he dragged in as much oxygen as he possibly could. His body felt heavy and numb as he blearily fluttered open his eyes.

He watched as blurry outlines of people began to move around the room once more, white blobs fluttering around like specks of dust. He noticed they were beginning to speak, but the only sounds that reached his ears were garbled and indistinct, muffled and foggy.

After a moment, the ringing in his ears began to fade out, the voices taking its place.

"-proven he can at least withstand a bit. But this is only the beginning. Now that we have free range, we can basically do whatever we want!"

"Within reason, of course. We still need him alive."

"If even that. With how close we're starting to get with those human trials, we might not even need him anymore. Besides, we still haven't gotten him back for what he did. That little bastard was such an annoyance. And not just for me, everyone here thinks so too, even you."

". . . . "

"That's what I thought. Now, come on. We've got a long day ahead of us."

The pounding in his head made Danny shut his eyes again, but it didn't stop him from absorbing everything they had said.

Long day? Yeah, no kidding.

Wally couldn't really remember what his life had been like without his powers, though he could safely assume it was normal, boring and slow. Even working as a forensic scientist didn't compare with his life now.

Though he did realize one thing was certain.

He watched as the agents left the room quickly, leaving him alone once more as they walked behind the observation windows. In the room, there was what appeared to be a treadmill of sorts. Glancing down as a soft beep met his ears, out of the corner of his eye he watched as the small red button on his inhibitor collar turned green.

"We're going to measure your speed levels. Run on the machine as fast as you can."

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms at the voice over the intercom. "Oh, yeah? And what if I don't feel like running?"

He received his answers as a loud buzz filled the air and a horrible burning sensation raked his whole body as his collar shot out electrical pulses that brought him to his knees as he let out a startled scream.

The currents died down once more, leaving him panting hard on his hands and knees. "Okay, that happens.

His normal, boring, slow life had been a lot safer.

Making his annoyance apparent to the agents (huffing loudly and sticking his tongue out at the mirror), the speedster reluctantly stepped onto the machine and began to run, his legs quickly becoming a blur as he tapped into his powers.

He had always loved running. Feeling the wind in his face, his feet moving so fast they seemed to be flying, the world blurring into nothing but colors and shapes, the calming silence that met his ears. Yet now, running merely for data sheets and statistics, underneath the harsh, cold lights . . . now it just seemed wrong.

After a few more minutes of running, he was told to stop. Wishing to avoid more punishments, the speedster slowed before leaping off of the machine. He turned back towards the glass with a disgusted face behind his cowl. "Now what?" He growled out.

A few moments of silence passed before one of the far walls of the room lowered into the floor, revealing that the area actually extended farther out. From the floor sprouted metallic, knee-high machines that all took aim at him.

"Now, we test evasive maneuvers and endurance."


Her mother had always warned her that man was a primitive, manipulative, greedy thing. But she had never believed it. Of course, over the years she had begun to see what her mother had been talking about first-hand, with all the villains they fought on a daily basis, but she had always countered it with remembering all of the good men out there as well.

But this . . . this was something else entirely. These men . . . were exactly what her mother had warned about.

She watched with disgust behind the glass window as her bracelets and crown were poked and prodded at by swarming agents who still had no clue why the objects still hadn't broken yet. One raised up his hand, an electric scalpel firmly grasped in said hand as he reached out towards the bracelets.

The room exploded in light and the agents were all send careening into the far walls, Diana letting a small smile slip onto her face at the sight of her crown and bracelet still perfectly safe while the agents floundered on the ground.

They had been testing her armor for at least fifteen minutes now while keeping her in a room adjacent to their lab, and they still hadn't been able to find out anything. Oh they had tried, they'd even been reduced to flat out asking her why it wouldn't work.

She told them it had been created by the gods and that no mere mortal weapon was going to be able to penetrate it. They obviously weren't happy with her answer as it led to a harsh slap across the face that was more painful for the agent than Diana, seeing as it sprained two fingers.


Still, the Amazonian couldn't feel too much joy at it considering their current predicaments. She knew Flash, Batman and Superman had been taken as well for tests, but what of the others. Had they been taken yet? And what of Danny? They hadn't heard anything of him in hours, though of course it could have been a day considering there was no way to tell time in their cells.

She let out a sigh and rested her head against the wall as she took a seat on the floor. From the sounds of the other room, they had finally brought in a chainsaw.

This is going to take a while.

He hated water.

Not so much so that he swore it off, mind you, but enough to warrant concern and a little hesitation at the sight of large bodies. Many would write this off as a preference, tick, or phobia, but Danny had a very good reason for hating water.


Everything was dark.

His brain pounded against his skull as he banged his fists on the metal walls, but it was no use. The box itself was a little smaller than an outhouse and completely metallic safe for a small window that he couldn't even see out of, yet was sure people could see in. The hatch at the top opened and closed to allow for entry and exit.

It was closed.

He opened his mouth, but was only met with the acidic taste of chlorine assaulting his tongue. He could feel the pressure beginning to compress down on his chest, his lungs beginning to burn as they caught aflame.

Red and black spots were beginning to dance in front of his eyes, making him wonder whether his eyes were actually opened or closed as he fought to hold on to that last sack of air he had stored in his lungs, but even it was beginning to fade.

His throat seared in agony as it began to crave the sensation of oxygen traveling down into his lungs. He curled his fingers into fists as he tried pounding on the walls one last time, but just as before, his distress was ignored.

Finally, Danny couldn't take it anymore. He opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, only to inhale a large mouthful of chemically polluted water. The cold water was beginning to seep into his skin, freezing his bones as they became ice. Desperation turned to pure fear as he opened his mouth once more, but not to breath. To scream. If he could see, he was sure he would see a stream of bubbles swirling around him as his heart began to beat twice as fast, if not thrice.

He began to thrash against the walls, praying for a faulty container, a loose screw, a rusted plate. Something. But much like he was used to, his prayers were either missed, or ignored.

Slowly, his body began to go numb as the thrashing slowed. He reached out and pressed his fingers against the window as he closed his eyes, after all, it was just as dark with his eyes open as closed. The buzzing noises filling his ears began to fog up as consciousness slowly began to slip through his fingers and float all throughout his watery grave.

Suddenly, a bright stream of light flooded in from overhead as he vaguely felt hands grab onto his shoulders and hoist him up. Danny didn't remember being carried, only waking up on the ground as he coughed and hacked up mouthfuls of water after receiving a sharp kick to the gut.

Blearily blinking open his eyes, he shakily brushed the wet strands of hair out of his face as he stared up.

Jack leaned over him, a smirk plastered onto his face as he stared down at the teen as if he were nothing more than a wet rat. "Aww, did someone have a good swim?" He asked in a mocking tone as he delivered another kick to the teen's ribs.

Danny curled in on himself as he lay shivering on the floor, wondering whether the water he felt on his cheeks actually came from his confines. He was vaguely aware of the group of agents writing down data from the experiment.

As he listened, the boy picked up on what they were saying and let out a tired sigh. "You know, i-if you wa-wanted to know h-how long I can ho-hold my breath, a-all you had to-to do is ask."

That earned him a kick in the head. Smart-ass.

They had already gone through a number of tests including fire resistance (which he didn't have), ice resistance (better), toxicity immunity (nope), acid immunity (nada), deoxygenation (nu-uh), gravitational variation (what?) and enhanced physical abilities, which was basically leaving him in a cage with four mutated ghosts and seeing who came out alive (super. . .).

Yet through all that, the teen still had yet to realize that his ass-itude wasn't going to get him anything other than a kick to the head, ribs and anywhere else he was exposed.

Across the room, Jack moved over to the head scientists once more. "What's next?" He growled out.

The two agents shared a look before turning back to the man. "Well, there's still a lot we don't know about his internal body structure that could be mandatory for the-"

"Then what are you waiting for, an invitation? Get the dissection room up and running." He shouted to three other agents.

"The dissection what now?" Danny croaked from the floor.

Jack glanced over at him before a smile slipped onto his face. Walking over, he grabbed the teen by the front of his shirt and pulled him up. "Oh come now, Danny. Haven't you ever taken a Biology course before? Everyone's always excited for Frog Day." He beamed before leaning closer. "Now you get to be the frog."

The teen's eyes widened as he stared into his father's eyes. "N-no."

"Oh, yes. In fact, skip all the other experiments for today. Let's do this now." Jack shouted to the others, who each gave frantic nods.

He huffed in satisfaction before turning back to Danny, who was beginning to hyperventilate. "Well what do you say, Froggy? Want to give a little ribbit for us?"

Safe to say, Batman was used to being in tough situations. Hell, it came with the job of putting on colorful (or devoid of color in his case) spandex and leaping from rooftops, raining down vigilante justice on psychos.

But to say this was a tough situation was an understatement.

He let out a groan of pain as he was blasted into the back wall, quickly springing back to his feet as he faced off against the machines once more. The blasters that had sprung up from the floor had been going at him for at least twenty minutes and the agents behind the glass panels still didn't seem to have enough.

Of course, he supposed it could be worse. He could be alone.

Superman grunted as he skidded across the floor, smoke still rising up from his chest. Latching onto the man's wrist, Batman practically dragged him behind one of the metal defenses the agents had been so kind as to put up (after the fifteen minute marker).

Then again, having a powerless Kryptonian wasn't much help either, so . . .

The barrage of red blasts continued as the two pressed their backs against the barrier. Superman glanced up, only to duck down again as a blast barely missed his head.

"Guess this isn't so easy without bulletproof skin." The alien joked, cracking a small smile, one Batman did not return. "How the heck do you do it?"

Batman snuck a small glance out at the machines that continued to fire before replying. "I'm rich."

Without another word, he sprung out from the hiding spot, using the metal barrier as a springboard as he launched himself across the room, sliding across the floor as he grabbed a piece of metal that had been blasted off of one of the other defense shields.

Pressing his back against the other shield, he rolled across the floor and reared back the piece of metal. Hurling it through the air, it latched itself into one of the laser's barrel, the machine exploding a second afterwards.

The blast caused three more machines to explode, leaving only two left.

Narrowing his eyes, Batman tensed as the machines reloaded and took aim once more. Again, red beams whizzed through the air as he rushed forward. As he moved, the beams followed his movements, blasting the walls whenever they would miss their moving target.

As he watched the beams fly, Batman continued to run towards the two machines, which were side by side, apart for a five-foot gap in between. Putting on an extra burst of speed, the man rushed forward before sliding right underneath the machines.

As the barrels of the cannons followed him, they aimed right at each other, firing upon themselves until the two machines exploded in a bright burst of light and the scattering of sharp metallic bits.

As the dust settled, Batman took a moment to breath as Superman's eyes returned to their normal size. Walking over, the Kryptonian let out a chuckle as he elbowed the man in the side. "So . . . rich, huh?"

Batman scoffed and rolled his eyes at that before a voice cut in on the intercom overhead.

"Very impressive, I must say. Normally those machines are enough to take out at least five ghosts at the same time. I'm sure you're very proud."

Definitely Vlad. Batman mused as he and Superman shared a look.

"Well you two just stay put and some agents will be along for you in a moment."

Batman narrowed his eyes as he slowly began to pace back and forth in between the smoking machines. Superman watched with a concerned eye as he walked over, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sure he's alright, Bruce." He whispered.

The man turned towards him with a sharp glare. "These agents have been waiting for six years to get their hands on him again. You think they're not going to get revenge on all the times he's made fools of them?" He growled out, pressing his back into one of the far walls as he folded his arms over his chest.

Superman thought about it for a moment before he ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. Moving over towards Bruce, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to him.

"You know, when we get out of here, I'm going to write such a scathing article about this place."

Batman cast him a glance before letting out a chuckle.

Superman eyed the man and smiled. If he could still get Batman to chuckle, then there was still hope in the world after all.

Danny felt his heart beating a million miles a minute as people moved around him. He knew they had to be agents, but all he could see were blurred shapes and random colors (mostly white). He jerked and struggled as he tried desperately to rip himself away from his restraints.

Despite the sluggishness and noticeable tiredness that made his body weigh twice its normal weight, the table creaked at the harsh movements as he continued. As he blinked open his eyes once more, the blurred shapes that came with his fear began to bleed into coherent structures as they took the forms of hustling agents.

White hair dipped into his face, making his eyes narrow in disgust. After twenty minutes of harsh knife slashes and shocks, they had been able to force him into his ghost form before promptly strapping him back into his favorite table.

Jack and Vlad stood off to the side as they watched the others prep the tables and tools. Upon noticing the harsh sound of the table, he turned to one of the agents. "Give him a mild sedative. He's struggling too much." He muttered.

"Of course I'm struggling! It's not like this is a normal thing for me, you psychos!" Danny snapped from the table.

One of the head surgeons let out a scoff as he turned towards Danny. "Please, would you drop the act, already? We know you can't feel any of this stuff. All your doing is implanting past memories onto this situation. You're not the first ghost to try that and they all eventually dropped the dramatics." He growled out.

Danny shook his head with wide eyes. "No . . . no you're wrong. You're wrong. Please!" His mind began to race as he whipped his head around the room, his eyes landing on his father standing stoic against the wall.

He knew. He knew Danny wasn't like that. That he could actually feel pain. He could tell them. He had to tell them. "Dad! Dad, please tell them! Tell them I'm not like that! Tell them I'm just like them! Please! Please help me!" He screamed out, green eyes shaking in terror as he stared at his father, begging for him to finally save him.

Jack narrowed his eyes and moved over to the table where his son was strapped down. With an expressionless face, he raised his hand and viciously slapped the teen across the face, Danny letting a small whimper slip out of his mouth as he tucked his head and began to shake. "Why the hell would I help you?" He spat out.

Vlad watched wordlessly with an amused face before a thoughtful expression fell onto his face. A moment passed before he moved over to the corner of the room and picked something off of the floor. It was small and rectangular, about the size of a . . .radio? what the heck did he need a radio for?

Nevertheless, the man placed it on the counter and pressed down on one of the buttons, music beginning to drift out of the small device. Rhapsody in Blue. He turned back to Danny with a grin. "George Gershwin is a brilliant man, Danny. Maybe he can take your mind off . . . things." He chuckled.

Shooting the agents another look, Jack watched them quickly nod as they rushed over to the cart next to the table and began to ready a large syringe with a light green liquid. As Danny followed the agents' movements, his eyes fell upon the cart that sat next to his table.

His eyes widened as he made out an array of different sized scalpels and needles, along with scissors, tweezers, and other things any right-minded adult wouldn't let a child near. He narrowed his eyes at the agent as they approached, throwing himself against his restraints as he tried to wiggle out of their grasp.

One large agent placed his arm across Danny's chest and another at his neck as he made him go still, the teen's mind buzzing as he watched one woman inject the liquid into his arm. Pulling back, the agents moved back over to Jack and Vlad as they began to discuss the procedure, but Danny had stopped listening.

Danny knew he should have been panicking, he should have been struggling, he should have been doing something. But for some reason he couldn't really wrap his mind around anything for more than a few seconds before it slipped out of his grasp again.

The tranquilizer began to seep through his bloodstream as he felt a thick fog form around himself.

"-ink he's ready"

He blearily opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to the side. The harsh lights overhead now seemed even brighter as colors began to bleed into each other. Around him, different voices could be heard, but they sounded distant and far away, almost as if they were underwater. Surprisingly, the music was the only think Danny could hear clearly. Every note. Every beat.

He remembered this song. He and Jazz had used to watch all sorts of Disney movies when they were little and their mother had loved watching Fantasia 2000. The music always seemed to relax her, which made the kids even happier as they watched the bright colors and funny cartoons. He had liked this song.

But that memory slowly seeped out of his mind as the fogginess continued to make his vision hazy and his hearing muggy. Sluggishly tilting his head once more, he tried twisting his body against the restraints as he tried to grasp hold of what was happening, only to feel someone harshly slam his head back down.

His head hit the steel table with a bang, making him blink in confusion as everything seemed to move in slow motion for a moment before returning to normal. The sound of cutting met his ears as he felt something pulled away from his body and pinned to the table. His suit?

The music continued to play soothingly, sweeping through the air as it made everything else fade into nothingness.

Telling himself to concentrate on the music, the teen fought to do so, even though the thought held no meaning anymore. He listened to every drum beat, every flute whistle, every saxophone blare as the rhythm slowly began to calm him down.

His eyes snapped open as pain suddenly exploded everywhere.

Stifling back a gasp, the teen clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes tightly. The sudden pain made his body jerk as he was viciously yanked from the foggy calm and dropped right into a cluster of loud noises and creaking tables. He opened his mouth to scream, but found that no noise would come out.

The mugginess around his ears shattered and he was acutely aware of every single noise. The sound of metal clattering on tables, the snap of surgical gloves, the tearing and ripping of. . . something.

Through the haze, he finally got a grip on where the main source of pain had originated. On his chest - right above his ribs - something cold and sharp was digging into his skin, slicing down slowly and precisely. He felt something oozing from the source of the pain, something warm that dripped down his skin and began to pool underneath him on the cold table.

The sticky liquid clung to his sides uncomfortably as he vaguely felt the sensation of skin being pulled away and the sharp stab of pain as bones were cracked. Cause who needs ribs anyway, really? He squeezed his eyes tightly and turned his head to the side as he felt a sob tear its way out of his throat. The urge to scream was so strong, yet the sound refused to escape from his lips.

A fresh wave of nausea hit him as a strong stench filled the air. His nails scraped against the table at the feeling of hands poking and prodding inside him. He could vaguely make out the foggy noise of people murmuring around the room. But most of their excited garble was drowned out by the music as it continued to swirl around his head.

He felt his tug on the restraints begin to weaken slightly as his head lolled to the side. Black and red spots began to dance in front of his eyes as he opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish, which was not to far off from the actual reality of the situation.

Someone must have noticed his sudden shift in energy because one particularly louder murmur quieted down all the others. The clatter of something being picked off a metal surface was heard followed by the faint sound of swishing liquids.

Suddenly, Danny vaguely felt a prick on his arm. He slowly tilted his head downward, only for his eyes to widen in shock as they began to glow a violent green. He grit his teeth and groaned as his veins turned a bright green before they settled and returned to their normal color.

His chest heaved as he fought to remain calm (which is kind of difficult when you're being gutted), watching out of the corner of his eye as one agents put down an empty syringe that was still dripping a strange glowing green liquid.

Whatever it was, it bought those agents a little more time to play with him as he turned his head away from the sight once again, knowing if he stole a glance it would be the last thing he ever did.

The sickening realization of what was actually happening hit him straight in the gut as he fought to choke the bile back down. He felt tears slipping down his cheeks as time seemed to stop. The world froze in place, leaving him to eternal damnation, it felt like. Any passing time was consumed by extreme agony as the pain slashed and clawed its way throughout his entire body. Never-ending. Never stopping.

Memories of six years ago began to flash across his mind. He had buried said memories so far deep, he didn't even realize they existed anymore. Safe to say, the experience had left a mark on the seven-year old, but it hadn't been like this. Nothing was like this. The thought of "they're doing this just because they can" planted itself into Danny's mind as he choked on another sob. What was the point of running, of fighting, of doing anything if it was just going to lead to this.

The tears continued to roll down his face as his body began to shudder. Another stab of pain rocketed through his body, causing a gasp to force its way out of Danny's throat as his eyes widened and he jerked upward.

The music continued to play peacefully. As if there weren't a horrible, gruesome event going on just a few paces away. As if everything were fine. He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes tighter. Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't it help him? Why wouldn't it make everything better like it did when he was four? Why was this happening!?

He choked on another cry as another shot of pain cut through him. He couldn't do it anymore. This was already over his limits. They had already pushed him over the edge six years ago. Now they were back to finish the job. He just wanted it to end. One final slash. One final stab. Just make it stop because . . . because nothing was worth this.

Finally, after who knows how long, he felt empty air hitting his chest instead of cold metal and latex gloves. He tired sucking a breath, but nothing seemed to be working at the moment. A bead of sweat trickled down his face as he tilted his head with the last bit of energy he had.

Opening his eyes, he watched as Jack bent down so that he was eye level with the kid, his face one of malice and mockery. "Wasn't that fun, Danny-boy? Maybe next time we can try amputations." He grinned, pressing his hand into the teen's chest.

Danny let out a strangled cry as he clenched his eyes shut. Jack barked out a laugh before getting up and wiping his hands on one of the nearby towels. Danny pulled in a shuddering breath as he noticed more people moving around him but he didn't really care anymore.

Shutting his eyes, he let his head his the table as he unclenched his fists and let his muscles relax. The last thing he felt before passing out was the sensation of pulled skin and the thin prick of a needle moving in and out. As he drifted away, one stray thought rang in his ears before floating out.

Batman . . . . . please help me.


I love this musical so much. Comment if you know which one its from and you'll get a special shoutout in the next chapter! :D

I have nothing to say about this chapter. I warned all you guys.

Thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: Sora Rider X, Hissatsu Koroshiya, The Whispering Sage; alexiusdevries1, xAlreadyOverx, djett4, xtina129


Naluforever3: If there's one thing I'm good at, it's making people feel hate!

Kimera20: I know! I know! I know! I know! I know! I know! I know! I know! I know! I know! I know!

Mr Bata: Well they're certainly not . . .going up! I'll leave now.

Fear the Fuzzy Bear: Ehh I wouldn't be too worried about it. After all, I have been known to cook up some pretty delicious plot sequences now and then so . . .

ChaoticMinds: Don't worry, I'm sure there number will come up eventually. But I'll try and speed up the process. NUMBER 54! HUrry up! We have some hungry readers out there who aren't too keen on waiting!

Darkverger1: "This situation is looking pretty hopeless." . . . . . . . I'ma gonna' do it! ~I was hopeless! Hopeless! I was helpless. Helpless! Every time I'd walk the hallways I would trip! I was stagnant and idle. I was so suicidal! And then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then then . . . I GOT A SQUIP!

. . . .I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me.

The Whispering Sage: Thank you! It's a lot of work but it's totally worth it. In fact, I have to walk it at least three times a day or he gets cranky!

Well anyways people, stay tuned for the next chapter. Hopefully it won't be too bad, but it really depends on my mood. Hehehehe . . . .

~No longer a drip when you've gotten your grip! A squip! A squip!