"…Where am I?"
Those were the only words that could escape his lips.
He tried to move, but his body hurt all over.
Before he could do anything else, a sharp pain struck his head. He tried to grab it, but his hands felt numb, and there was blood all over him.
Memories surged through his mind. Torture. Injections. Being cut open.
The excruciating pain in his head gradually subsided. He breathed heavily.
I remember… remember…
That was when he looked around.
He was sitting on the bare floor, his back against an unfinished wall. The "room" smelled horrible. A skull lay beside him. It was not a human's.
Not minding it, Dion realized he was being held in some form of dungeon. There was no light. Broken metal bars littered the floor, and a cool, light breeze brushed against him.
What could have happened?
"…Right… my name… is Dion, though they never called me that."
"How long have I been here?"
He tried to remember what could have happened for the place to be in such a chaotic state. Each time he felt he was on the verge of remembering, it slipped away. He could not recall the people who tortured him. It was like trying to remember a friend from a decade ago.
"Why is it so dimly lit?" He thought as he scanned the area, hoping to find a light source he could carry around.
"Wait… there's no light? But I can still see decently."
It was too strange… was it really possible to see without light?
Numbness and pain made him unable to move. He was hungry, thirsty, and filthy. He hated the feeling.
Fear slowly took hold of him. What else could be living in this dungeon with him?
After a while, he bit into his lower lip. The pain made him flinch, sending a throbbing sensation through his entire body. It was unbearable, but it was enough.
Enough to rejuvenate him.
At the very least, he could feel control returning to his arms and legs.
He finally managed to speak.
"Ah."
A foul odor came from his mouth. He grimaced.
Disgusted, he forced himself to stand. His muscles screamed, but he stretched anyway. The pain no longer mattered.
The ground felt like a trap. Sharp shards, rusted iron, and unidentifiable objects were scattered everywhere. He desperately wanted his memories back, but for now, food and water mattered more.
The hallway ahead lay in ruins. To his right, a small room caught his attention. Without hesitation, he entered, cautious of traps and alert for movement.
The room was almost empty. A broken table stood against the wall, littered with used syringes, empty boxes, and scattered papers. Among them lay a few old books coated in dust.
He searched the room anyway.
The papers contained information about "test subjects." Every single one was listed as deceased.
He did not flinch when he found one bearing his own name, "Dion," with a single bold word beneath it.
DEAD
His headache worsened. His vision blurred. His body weakened.
He collapsed onto the floor.
Slowly, he recovered. He could see again. He had a little more energy.
Even so, his heart sank.
If anything attacked him now, he would most likely die.
He read the rest silently.
Name: Dion
Date of Birth: 19th January, 2010
Test: XX
First Attempt: Failure
Second Attempt: Failure
…
Ninth Attempt: Death
He stared at the paper for a long moment. Most of the words meant nothing to him, but one thing was clear.
He was not supposed to be alive.
"I barely have any memories. Where is this? Why am I here? I need answers."
Some papers to his right moved slightly, without his interference.
The moment he noticed, he jumped and flung a handful of papers toward the movement.
A tiny green creature, no bigger than a cat, skittered free. It had the legs of a feline and the slick, scaled body of a fish. Instead of fleeing, it shot straight toward him at an alarming speed.
Dion dropped low and lunged forward.
BAM.
He caught it.
The creature was slimy and thrashed violently in his grip. Before it could slip free, he slammed it hard against the floor, releasing it only to drive his foot into its body a split second later.
It struck the wall and let out a pitiful squeal. Blue blood splattered across the stone as it slid down and went still.
Dion exhaled slowly.
He felt no urge to check the creature. He only felt empty.
Luckily for him, it had been weak.
What else would he encounter?