Madness Combat X Reader

1

Your p.o.v.-

So far, you've lived a pretty alright life. Most wouldn't call your life normal, but all you can see at times is either blinding rage, or the warped vision of your masters outside your test tube. You've been made for combat; excelling in C.Q.C and H2H, but guns? Those were out of the question. Your long, jaggedly sharp claws weren't made for gripping triggers. Your masters have tried many tactics on you to see what you worked best at; you're good at running! You like to run, jump, dodge, whatever comes to your mind! Your masters noted that you'd have absolutely no problem at all if an enemy came in that was too tough for you to handle; you'd be gone in a blink of their stupid little eye.

Today was just like any other day, training in the vast empty fields of Nevada, honing your skills when you heard a voice call for you.

"Subject 1v02P 9! Come in. Your time is up." One of your masters called from the intercom that seemed to boom across the empty landscape. Sometimes you wondered what was outside the safe containment of this place you call "home"; if there was even anything outside of this. You don't know what the hell has happened to Nevada, but you've been made during the entire downfall, so you've never really known what is was like before all this madness.

As you head inside, you made an attempt to try and watch the surveillance cameras they seemed to carelessly littered all over your containments cells walls. It was actually quite roomy in here! You even had neighbors, those being catatonic, unfinished messes of flesh and blood that your masters haven't finished making yet. You watched the cameras for a bit before being hurriedly shoo'ed back into your test tube.

You made an unintelligible noise of disapproval but who were you to testify against these people? They know everything that makes you tick. They've made you and they can easily take you out and you wouldn't be in their minds after that. After all, you were just another number in the endless amounts of other experiments they've made in this hell-scape. You went into your test tube with little to no back-talk and just as they were about to sends the walls up around you, your master was called out of the room by another voice you had not recognized. There was too many people in this place to remember. Too many alike faces caused your memory to grow hazy with who was who, granted they weren't wearing a nametag or sort. You only recognized your masters by their lab coats and properly adorned tags. Each one had a different tag, and although your eyesight wasn't the best without your goggles they would give to you for missions, you could tell by the different colors they kept for each; representing their placement in the ranks. The one that had gotten called out was Yellow. You hadn't bothered to remember their names, but rather scratchily groan out what color they were. It took them a bit to understand why you were calling them this, but they soon realized and all was well.

"So, you're meaning to tell me that we can't keep these experiments anymore? What about the S-3LF progra-" "Listen, I'm just following orders. I'm not sure why the Director is sending this order out. I can only assume he found more suitable replacements for them. After all, these experiments aren't anything to rely on, given on how.... hostile they can be at times, especially to their own creators and crewmates. They need to be discharged and stopped in production effective immediately." You heard them talking outside your room. What did they mean about all that? Were they letting you go?

"I don't care what the Director says, do you know how long I've spent on these experiments?! I've put in so much of my time, effort, sweat and blood into perfecting these and the Director just wants to throw them aside? What about ME? What about MY life that I've spent for this agency perfecting these warriors, just for them to thrown out like garbage?! WHAT CAN I BE COMPENSATED WITH FOR THE COUNTLESS YEARS?!" That was Yellow's angry voice. The louder they be, the more angrier they get. You would know.