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"Are you burdened, by your guilt? Do you regret your blood shed? Do you still see the faces, of those you have murdered? " A distorted voice said, falling in and out of focus, as if one is drowning, and listening to the voices, slowly losing consciousness. "You have such great power. I can help you control it," the voice is smooth and greasy. Although he cannot see anything, he can image what the owner of the voice looks like, scrawny, small, hunch back, a sleaze bag looking guy, someone one's parents would've warned them to stay away from.
The subject jerks awkwardly in the glass cylinder, as if being shocked by a taser, in the greenish-reddish liquid, which suspends him in the middle of his glass cage. "You are certainty a fighter, quite extraordinary," the voice speaks again, more noises can be heard in the strange world, shuffling around. Papers moving, glasses being switched around, the kind of noises one would hear in a quiet science lab.
The subject jerks around again. An eye snapping open, he looks around, the unknown liquid limits his usually apex vision, making everything fuzzy and keeps everything out of proportion, like looking through a dirty looking glass, his eyes are unable to focus on anything. "You will not disappoint me, I hope," the greasy voice says, the subject turns his head sharply, to look at where the voice is coming from. The man is nothing like one would imagine, being well built, strong, with medium length, messy hair. It is like he has been too busy on something, and didn't have time for his own self-care, with his clothes disheveled, big bags under his eyes, his hair barely combed and greasy. He turns around, piercing blue eyes meet the subject's, it is like sky had cried into his eyes.
"Ah. You are awake. Are you ready for more?" The man asks. His lab coat has strange stains all over it, purple, blue, red, and green splatters scattered around, on the white back splash. The man walks over to a device, and injects a vile into it, the red fluid substance, makes uneasy swishing noises, the kind someone would hear after adding mints to a shaken up soft drink. The substance in vile, flows up tubes, emptying itself into the tank.
The subject is filled with a, unknown sudden burst of rage, thrashing around as best he could, despite the unknown liquid trying to prevent him to, with it's goo-like texture and consistency, but water-like look. But even with the thick liquid, trying to prevent his movements, the subject is still incredibly strong against the force, with the power of ten warriors, put into one creature.
The scientist's eyes widen with excitement, almost enjoying how his subject thrashes around with a pain that can only be describe as being forced to dance on fire coals, while being stabbed to death, trying to escape the small cage. "In case you are wondering what I just gave you, I extracted pure rage from an... Ex-colleague of mine. We were having a... Disagreement about, well you, my lovely subject. I just wanted to see, how well you would do under the pressure of anger."
The subject thrashes around more in the liquid, kicking the glass with much force, not entirely listening to the foreign noises, which he cannot understand.
