Elliot's eyes snapped open as the announcement began, giving him a very good look at dirt and darkness, and not much else. Where the hell am I? He straightened, smacked his head on the way too low ceiling. There was sunlight near his feet, though, and he awkwardly twisted around, then squeezed through a narrow hole between two huge roots and emerged into the sunlight. As Elliot took in his surroundings, he sighed. Another episode.
This was, unfortunately, not the first time Elliot had come to naked with no idea where he was. The counseling and the drugs had helped him to regain his Humanity to an extent - he thought in English again, usually walked around upright instead of like an oversized Gollum, and had even taken to wearing pants again.
Then these events started happening. They didn't make sense - Elliot had never lost control before PRACC had taken him. He'd lost himself, yes, but he clearly remembered the feral days of solitary hunting and eating and running. Speaking of which, he could feel his stomach gurgle, and there seemed to be viable prey nearby. In the forest of the PRACC facility, Elliot Greaves was the apex predator, a hungry God amidst terrified, delicious subjects. Elliot extended his claws and quickly scrambled up into the treetops, beginning to make a series of crawling hops, watching and listening for prey.
And soon a bounty was delivered to him, a small group of deer passing through. The wind stirred around him, and they sniffed at the breeze. Froze momentarily, then bolted.
But the momentary hesitation was the harbinger of death for one of them. Elliot dropped from the tree hands and feet first, driving claws into the doe's back, digging into the creature's sides until he had a firm grip. The creature let out a cry of terror and agony that cut off as Elliot's teeth found her neck, slicing through the large veins and granting her a quick end. The kill done, Elliot began to messily eat, ripping and tearing chunks of flesh from the slain creature and consuming them, much of his body now slick with blood. Table manners were still something they worked on.
Not long after with a good chunk of the carcass eaten, Elliot stepped back to let the forest scavengers have the rest, his hunger slaked.
He'd need to return to the detention facility, report in and declare last night's incident. PRACC seemed to have developed a means of dealing with him when he became like that, just let him go into the woods and wait for him to come to. If the worst happened he did have a tracking anklet permanently attached to him - he'd tried and it had proven impossible to cut or tear with claws or teeth, and impervious to any damage he could think of to do to it. He supposed he could gnaw his own leg off and escape that way, but that option held little appeal to him. He departed the site of the killing and headed for the detention facility, still streaked with blood.
This was, unfortunately, not the first time Elliot had come to naked with no idea where he was. The counseling and the drugs had helped him to regain his Humanity to an extent - he thought in English again, usually walked around upright instead of like an oversized Gollum, and had even taken to wearing pants again.
Then these events started happening. They didn't make sense - Elliot had never lost control before PRACC had taken him. He'd lost himself, yes, but he clearly remembered the feral days of solitary hunting and eating and running. Speaking of which, he could feel his stomach gurgle, and there seemed to be viable prey nearby. In the forest of the PRACC facility, Elliot Greaves was the apex predator, a hungry God amidst terrified, delicious subjects. Elliot extended his claws and quickly scrambled up into the treetops, beginning to make a series of crawling hops, watching and listening for prey.
And soon a bounty was delivered to him, a small group of deer passing through. The wind stirred around him, and they sniffed at the breeze. Froze momentarily, then bolted.
But the momentary hesitation was the harbinger of death for one of them. Elliot dropped from the tree hands and feet first, driving claws into the doe's back, digging into the creature's sides until he had a firm grip. The creature let out a cry of terror and agony that cut off as Elliot's teeth found her neck, slicing through the large veins and granting her a quick end. The kill done, Elliot began to messily eat, ripping and tearing chunks of flesh from the slain creature and consuming them, much of his body now slick with blood. Table manners were still something they worked on.
Not long after with a good chunk of the carcass eaten, Elliot stepped back to let the forest scavengers have the rest, his hunger slaked.
He'd need to return to the detention facility, report in and declare last night's incident. PRACC seemed to have developed a means of dealing with him when he became like that, just let him go into the woods and wait for him to come to. If the worst happened he did have a tracking anklet permanently attached to him - he'd tried and it had proven impossible to cut or tear with claws or teeth, and impervious to any damage he could think of to do to it. He supposed he could gnaw his own leg off and escape that way, but that option held little appeal to him. He departed the site of the killing and headed for the detention facility, still streaked with blood.