Cyborg 009 Fan Fiction ❯ A Cyborg's Tale ❯ Creating them . . . ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: 004fluffysleepdeprivedanimefan 
Just out of sheer boredom, while listening to Daft Punk's Harder, Better, Faster Stronger.
Anime/Manga: Cyborg 009 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Psychological / Mystery / Horror / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.14.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 852 | Visits: 318 | Status: Completed
Just out of sheer boredom, while listening to Daft Punk's Harder, Better, Faster Stronger.
Anime/Manga: Cyborg 009 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Psychological / Mystery / Horror / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.14.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 852 | Visits: 318 | Status: Completed
Just a little extra to get your mind going . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Deep in an underground base, at the bottom of an ocean, a factory was hard at work, creating four new cyborgs to go into battle. . . .
Each room titled differently, a tall thin man with strong angular features, walked past each room, stopping at each one, studying their progress, writing down his thoughts . . .
Radioactive Wastes Room#13. . .
A girl was laying down on a table, tubes sticking in her arms, pumping in thick liquids of many different colors, oranges, greens, reds, browns and purples. While that was going on, lasers were wearing away her clothes, leaving her in her undergarments. Five scientists were working away on cutting open her stomach, putting in little black boxes, labled 'Nuclear Wastes'. Their reason was to get the waste into her blood stream, the acid in her stomach would wear away box coverings. A machine at the top of the table, was taking care of other things, dying her hair from it's auburn color, to a darker reddish brown, giving it a mahogony shade, putting in permanent contacts of a bright glowing plum, injecting needles into her face, taking away most of the pigment that wasn't already there, making her even paler, and leaving her lips a deep blood red shade, with a hint of purple in them.
Sands of Hourglasses and Warps Room #32 . . .
In this wonderful little room, a man was being held up right, on a table, his arms spread out, several doctors were busying themselves with cutting open his arms, and placing in long wirers with clocks attached at the ends. The same machine in the other room, was fixing up his appearance, slicking back his black hair, while dying it a grayish brown, the permanent contacts he would be getting, were the color of a fierce bright yellow, but instead of taking away the pigments in his tissues, the needles that were injected, made his face look more craggy.
Psychologic Room #3 . . .
While the other rooms looked more like operating rooms, this one was made of glass and plastic, everything all clear and clean. In the middle of this room, there was a young lady laying on her back, her hair falling off the plastic table. Two cables were attched to her temples, leading back to a machine, that three scientists were looking at, adjusting her mental abilities to something far more advanced than any other psych creation. The machine, that is of coarse, if you have geussed by now, was in all rooms, was just inishing up on her new look. Retreating up to the ceiling, the black dye running down her soft ash blonde hair, her new light pink eyes closing slowly, the dye in her skin covering the rest of her body, giving her a tan with a few dark brown freckles beneath her eyes.
P.T.E. Room #54 . . .
This last room had a man, in a glass tube chamber, a whole bunch of wirers and cables hooked up to him, he was going through the last of his transformation, his hair that was once a dark brown hair, now a bright orange, his eyes half open, exposing his light baby blue irises. From where he came from, his skin would have been a sickly shade of white, but now, even with the blue liquid around him, his complection was a healthy color, light, but looked to have enough sun with out getting a tan. The scientists working on him, were mixing chemicals in the test tubes, a few, had been put into the machine the man was in at the bottom, turned up, lettign the fluid rush into the tubes attached to his body.
In the Lounge . . .
The man finished writing on the clip board, was sitting at a long table, pulling out his half moon spectacles, resting them on the lowest part on the bridge of his nose. He read over his notes, flipping them, until getting to a blank page, and wrote down quickly
'My cyborg project has so far been going quite well. Soon, I will have four new renegade cyborgs I can let lose on Scarl, hopeful they will survive and search for the 00-Cyborgs. A feel great pity for them though, 0064, 0065, 0066 and 0067. How they will take notice of the sick society we live in today.'
Jotting a little more down, he ripped the papar away from the others, and slipped it into an envelope. On the middle of that envelope, was the name Melvin Cellouse, 6025 Nataki St. Igeano, CA.
Prof. Cellouse stood up, and slid the envelope into his pocket, before heading out back to the rooms. . . .
_____________________________________________
Actually . . . Kind of a lame chapter if you ask, I was really good at this earlier, but lost it after lunch. . . . So . . . Sorry if it turns out bad . . . there's nothign good on to listen to when I'm writing!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Deep in an underground base, at the bottom of an ocean, a factory was hard at work, creating four new cyborgs to go into battle. . . .
Each room titled differently, a tall thin man with strong angular features, walked past each room, stopping at each one, studying their progress, writing down his thoughts . . .
Radioactive Wastes Room#13. . .
A girl was laying down on a table, tubes sticking in her arms, pumping in thick liquids of many different colors, oranges, greens, reds, browns and purples. While that was going on, lasers were wearing away her clothes, leaving her in her undergarments. Five scientists were working away on cutting open her stomach, putting in little black boxes, labled 'Nuclear Wastes'. Their reason was to get the waste into her blood stream, the acid in her stomach would wear away box coverings. A machine at the top of the table, was taking care of other things, dying her hair from it's auburn color, to a darker reddish brown, giving it a mahogony shade, putting in permanent contacts of a bright glowing plum, injecting needles into her face, taking away most of the pigment that wasn't already there, making her even paler, and leaving her lips a deep blood red shade, with a hint of purple in them.
Sands of Hourglasses and Warps Room #32 . . .
In this wonderful little room, a man was being held up right, on a table, his arms spread out, several doctors were busying themselves with cutting open his arms, and placing in long wirers with clocks attached at the ends. The same machine in the other room, was fixing up his appearance, slicking back his black hair, while dying it a grayish brown, the permanent contacts he would be getting, were the color of a fierce bright yellow, but instead of taking away the pigments in his tissues, the needles that were injected, made his face look more craggy.
Psychologic Room #3 . . .
While the other rooms looked more like operating rooms, this one was made of glass and plastic, everything all clear and clean. In the middle of this room, there was a young lady laying on her back, her hair falling off the plastic table. Two cables were attched to her temples, leading back to a machine, that three scientists were looking at, adjusting her mental abilities to something far more advanced than any other psych creation. The machine, that is of coarse, if you have geussed by now, was in all rooms, was just inishing up on her new look. Retreating up to the ceiling, the black dye running down her soft ash blonde hair, her new light pink eyes closing slowly, the dye in her skin covering the rest of her body, giving her a tan with a few dark brown freckles beneath her eyes.
P.T.E. Room #54 . . .
This last room had a man, in a glass tube chamber, a whole bunch of wirers and cables hooked up to him, he was going through the last of his transformation, his hair that was once a dark brown hair, now a bright orange, his eyes half open, exposing his light baby blue irises. From where he came from, his skin would have been a sickly shade of white, but now, even with the blue liquid around him, his complection was a healthy color, light, but looked to have enough sun with out getting a tan. The scientists working on him, were mixing chemicals in the test tubes, a few, had been put into the machine the man was in at the bottom, turned up, lettign the fluid rush into the tubes attached to his body.
In the Lounge . . .
The man finished writing on the clip board, was sitting at a long table, pulling out his half moon spectacles, resting them on the lowest part on the bridge of his nose. He read over his notes, flipping them, until getting to a blank page, and wrote down quickly
'My cyborg project has so far been going quite well. Soon, I will have four new renegade cyborgs I can let lose on Scarl, hopeful they will survive and search for the 00-Cyborgs. A feel great pity for them though, 0064, 0065, 0066 and 0067. How they will take notice of the sick society we live in today.'
Jotting a little more down, he ripped the papar away from the others, and slipped it into an envelope. On the middle of that envelope, was the name Melvin Cellouse, 6025 Nataki St. Igeano, CA.
Prof. Cellouse stood up, and slid the envelope into his pocket, before heading out back to the rooms. . . .
_____________________________________________
Actually . . . Kind of a lame chapter if you ask, I was really good at this earlier, but lost it after lunch. . . . So . . . Sorry if it turns out bad . . . there's nothign good on to listen to when I'm writing!!