Memory

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I remember screaming that night.

A massive INGEN soldier -- bearing blackened hair, brown eyes, and a chiseled jaw -- had his electric stick pressed deep into my scaly hide, electrocuting me at full blast. He watched from above, smiling with satisfaction as my poor body flailed and writhed under his control. My claws dug into ground, drawing three sharp lines across the pavement, enough to crack the very frame of my blackened talons. But he didn't care for it, even as warm crystal tears began streaming down my broken face. I bellowed into the endlessness, forced to embrace hell for however long they demanded, for however long they so wished.

But electrocution wasn't new to me in any way. This happened often.

Some days it would last seconds. Others, like today, would last minutes.

Just enough time to kill... if they so wished to try. It was a common punishment, without the risk of physical abuse -- only offered whenever a hybrid failed (or refused) to complete a task.

In my case, it was killing a dog.

At the time I wasn't aware I could do such a thing. They were the right-hand followers of mankind: loved for all their secrets, all their tricks, and more. They never did hurt me, nor was that ever their intentions. So when INGEN decided to push a stay into my cell for the sake of food, I was surprised.

No, I was scared. So was the beast. And once our fears grew too strong, we did what any animal would do: fight.

The dog was barely armored when he attacked me. Void of scales, talons, and speed, he didn't stand a chance against a giant like myself. Even I knew his fate before he took the first lunge, and I hungrily salivated over the thought of free food. When I attacked it cried out and fought back -- just the same as any ordinary prey. I found it's spine and shook it about, like a chew toy, until I heard it's bone crack. Hopeless and afraid, it watched it whimper and crawl away, begging for me to spare it's life. All I did in return was pin it's body down, and go for the throat.

But I never finished.

I didn't know why I told myself to stop. I just did.

Part of me figured it was out of fear... It only made sense. The other believed it was pure mercy that held me back. Something happened that made me disobey their focus for me, something I saw in it's eyes that reflected my own soul.

And now-

"AAH! Nnh..."

The stick finally retracted from my bloody side, and I collapsed to the ground, twitching about like a pathetic hatchling. The soldier above me watched me go still for a moment, then made a signal with it's gloved hand -- a sort of L-shape -- prior to lowering down on one knee.

"Pulse check. Standby."

"Very well. Standing by."

The second before he grazed my neck, my eyes snapped open, and I whipped my jaws up faster than he could react. Once I sank into his speckled hand, tasting the sweetest nectar that made up human flesh, my eyes dilated and a predatory snarl rippled from my throat. The injured soldier screamed, trying to reel his limb away for escape but only managed to make the damage worse. Once he lost his footing, I managed to slam him onto his back, knocking the stick from his freed hand, and glare over at him while his hand was torn to shreds.

I've never felt this much control.

"AGH! HELP!"

This much fire within me. This much... power. It burned like a newborn star in my skull, far stronger than the pain welling up inside me. It was like the taste of fresh flesh-- sweet, warm, and utterly fulfilling to any creature like myself.

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