Corruption and Change

[Zepphos]

I am not his... I'll never be his...

Harrisson stared at the medical implements decending from above. His limbs completely numb of any sense or feeling. There was no more pain anymore. He was greatful for this. He couldn't remember what it was like not to feel pain. It felt glorious to float, instead being hung. He looked at his body, at the mess he called his own. The tentacled being floating beside him was working on his left knee, where the flesh had been ripped apart and his knee blown out. With tremendous skill, the Surgeon cut away the ragged flesh, deftly inserted an artificial knee, and sealed the entire wound within seconds. Harrisson lay, amazed at what he had just seen. These beings were obviously far more advanced than he could ever imagine... Then the question hit him. Why are they keeping me alive?

He knew he should feel fear right now. Why would they keep him alive? But, no fear came. His mind was completely at ease. The Surgeon had started to open him entirely. Unknown to Harrisson, the Surgeon was reconfiguring his nervous structure, and his tendon and ligament placings. Thus making him stronger and faster, with improved sensory abilities. The Surgeon made light of the work, with his many limbs working at near light speed. In next to five minutes the Surgeon had opened and closed every inch of Harrisson's body.

When all the physical surgery was finished, the Surgeon floated behind Harrisson's head. Harrisson's brain fell into sub consciousness as the Surgeon rifled through Harrisson's thoughts and memories; replacing his happy thoughts of his wife and greed for money and power, with thoughts of torture and impulses for chaos and destruction; inserting Dark Star as a symbol of authority, power and justice; and removing obsolete memories of his childhood, family and friends, leaving him with only his memories of Military affairs and his regular ventures into the world of corruption.



****


The Surgeon, Dark Star and the assistants had left long before. Corruptor awoke on the floor of the cell. He had been clothed in the uniform he had arrived in. Curious, he stood up, took off the shirt, and looked at it, his arms outstretched. Frowning, he walked towards where he had recently been chained. He threw the shirt into a pool of his own blood that had been left as a reminder when he awoke. His frown was one of disgust at what he used to be. He spat on the shirt and turned toward the door. Finding it unlocked, he walked out.

All the Phantoms, save for Dark Star, were either sat or stood outside the door. Corruptor moved into the centre of them, facing Glock. His eyes scanned Glock up and down, and then stood facing him silently. Glock grinned.

"Enjoy that, Slayer?"

"It was certainly 'enlightening', Lord."

"Glad to hear it. You'll be needing some new clothes, unless you're devoid of taste. I'd like to say you could rest a little after your 'ordeal' but the rest of the slayers have become a little restless having to wait for you."

"Yes, Lord. I understand."

"Very good. Get prepared and we'll meet in the docking bay as soon as. Onyx will show you to your quarters."

Corruptor turned toward Onyx. His mind flashed back to the cell. Immeadiately he looked at his right hand. The two metallic fingers gleamed, twitching as though real. Looking back at Onyx, he smiled. Onyx smiled her sweet half smile, took a look at his hand, and shrugged. Corruptor began to laugh.

"Lead the way."

Onyx turned and lead the way. A slight skip in her step.



****


With a slight, pleasing creak, Corruptor's chamber door opened. He stepped out into the hall. He felt comfortable in his new atire, black being his new favourite colour. Blood red a close second. He began to walk down the hall towards the hangar, his grin widening as the departure time neared.

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