Chapter Text
Experiments.
Tests.
This was your existence.
Taking blood-- Plasma, to be exact, cutting you open, messing with your body, your eyes.
Your eyes, your eyes, your eyes--
Your quirk.
“Just don’t take enough of her blood to knock her unconscious for several days this time, Dr. Gozu.” Another voice sighed-- It was a masculine voice that held malicious power laced with every syllable. It made you weak and set off every sensor in your body, like blaring alarms in your ears, yet you could never move when you heard it; Sheer terror would paralyze you even if it wasn’t your own quirk’s doing. It wasn’t even in the same room. It was always over a speaker and, you assumed, a monitor.
They seemed to always be able to see you.
You never saw them.
“Let me go!” Your screeching voice pierced the air, as another needle injected itself into your right arm-- You couldn’t move it-- You couldn’t move at all, you were paralyzed, your own quirk turned against you so it could be harvested more and more . Even if it wasn’t what was paralysing you, you were bound to the cold steel medical table, leather straps holding every inch of you in place, down to your fingertips, your toes, your eyes, your eyes, your eyes -- “Let me go…! It hurts… It hurts… It… Hu…” My arm is on fire-- I can’t see, it feels like I haven’t been able to see for years... Only when they force me to test those terrible experiments…! Those voices, I have to run-- I can’t run, I’m tied down.
It hurts. It hurts .
Stop.
Stop!
What’s… What’s going to happen to me now…?!
“Hush, hush… It will all be over soon. Well, for now at least…” That voice . That voice made you recoil and told you to run, to get as far as way as possible, to not let him near you. But ever since that day-- The day you were born, it seemed like, even if you were only about fifteen back then-- You have been bound, you couldn’t run. He put his terrible, forceful, exploratory greedy hands on you almost every day.
It hurts…!
________________
“Well, at least she won’t be making all those annoying noises.” Dr. Gozu laughed lowly, cynically, with a sadistic smirk on his face as situated the plasma extraction machine. Perhaps he ran it a bit too long this time...
“Dr. Gozu, I said not to…”
“My apologies, sir. I guess she wasn’t fully recovered from last time. She’ll be fine, Nurse Shimizu will take care of her.”
“You’re lucky you’re worth a lot to me, Gozu… Give her a break for a week to recover. You’ve lost four other test subjects already, don’t lose this one. She’s invaluable. You’re lucky I let you near her.”
“I’m honored, in fact!” Dr. Gozu pushed his long, straight, steel grey hair out of his youthful face with his round glasses, turning to his nurse with his bloodshot, neon green eyes that almost glowed in the dimly lit room, “Shimizu, take care of the poor woman. Don’t let the blindfold fall off this time, you’re lucky she was too dazed to turn you to stone.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Those were the only two words from the small vocabulary Shimizu Keiko ever used when she was working. She always cleaned up his mess: Patched up the test subjects, cleaned up the blood, managed their IVs and food tubes when they were unconscious for long periods of time after his agonizing experiments… You know, the usual.
She didn’t really care much. She got money, learned new things for her own research, and that was it. Even if this subject tried to look at her as if she could be her savior, even if that was beyond the opposite. It was her job to keep her here. Alive and Trapped.
While the doctor took the basket full of plasma and left the cold, sterile room, she removed the needles and monitors from Subject 394.
‘How humourous, that number…’ Shimizu thought the first time she had met the woman. ‘Literally means ‘Birth’, ‘Torture’, then ‘Death’. Sucks to be her. She probably doesn’t even have a concept of time anymore.’
“Poor wretch.” Shimizu murmured with an almost fond tone as she wheeled the subject’s bed with her withering body in it, “Wonder how long it’ll take before Big Boss gets his organ regeneration under way. Then you can say goodbye to your quirk. Er, well, I guess it would be a good thing that you won’t have to worry about accidentally turning anyone to stone after that, Medusa.”
Medusa. That was Test Subject 394’s “nickname”. “Codename”, “alias”, whatever you wanted to call it. She wouldn’t be a hero and she wasn’t a villain, so those were what you could call the “affectionate” pet name the previous doctor gave her.
Poor fool was too kind. A year ago, when he was trying to introduce Gozu to her, who tried to use his quirk on her. She freaked out, the doctor tried to soothe her, she turned him to stone, broke off the arm he tried to extend to her, then tried to use it to escape. Big Boss was only able to catch her, according to one of the other assistants, she had turned several villains working under him to stone and escaped others who couldn’t fight without their sight. If he didn’t treasure her quirk in hopes of getting his own eyes back one day-- How did he even lose them?-- He probably would have just killed her and been done with it. But until then, her blood was pretty damn useful, apparently.
All that, even after he had broken that girl a year after he kidnapped her. Not even physically-- Well, they kind of did that too-- But mentally.
Posters of a certain famous hero were hung in her room-- The girl had never even heard of him-- and her blindfold was removed, while tapes of his voice constantly played, over and over, day and night, for five years, until the tapes became corrupted and had to be discarded. No matter. The message got across.
“This is the hero that failed you. ”
“It’s heroes that failed you.”
“He was there the day you were taken, he didn’t do anything, it’s his fault you’re here.”
“It’s his fault you are my prisoner.”
“You weren’t a flashy enough reason for him to waste his time saving you.”
“He passed you by.”
“You were left to be mine.”
“He would kill you the second he laid eyes on you.”
“You’re a monster.”
“You would die if you weren’t here.”
“You’re only useful here.”
“This is the hero that failed--”
__________________
‘She made a mistake…’
You were staring wide-eyed at the binding on your wrist that was loose-- It was loose- It was loose enough-- You slowly slipped your hand from the strap, staring at the lighter, slightly red from irritation strip of skin that was like a bracelet on your wrist. You flexed your hand-- Your fingers--
Freedom.
I… I’m free…
...
I’m getting out of here.
In a flash you scrambled to undo the other straps-- Your other wrist, your head, your chest, abdomen, thighs, legs, ankles--
Freedom.
Freedom!
Weapon. Where’s a weapon? I know the floorplan now, I know that much, I think I know where the exit is…
You looked around wildly, flinching every time your eyes landed on a poster of “All Might”, as if he would jump out and kill you for daring to even think about escaping--
They’re just posters.
Weapon weapon weapon--
The guard on the bed.
I don’t have enough strength to break it off, it’s metal… No, I want out. Find some strength--
The doorknob began turning.
No, not yet! I don’t know what to do ye-- No. I know. I know.
You scurried silently to the door, hiding behind it, right as it began to open.
“Medusa, I brought dinner!”
Weapon. A weapon. A weapon--
“Today we have oatmeal with your favorite brand of protein and vitamins mixed in, some mixed canned fruit, some…What the…” She set the tray on the table, slowly reaching into her--
As soon as you saw her hand dive into her doctor’s coat pocket-- For that awful drug made with your own blood-- You slammed the door shut with your foot, grabbed the wrist and yanked it upwards, before she could grasp the syringe, while you both screeched and you wrestled her onto the bed, snatching her glasses off, and grabbing for her other arm.
“I’m sick of this place, y-you horrible people won’t keep me here anymore! Open your eyes, open your eyes!” You screamed at her with a ferocity you didn’t know you had-- At least it would be there if tears weren’t streaming down your face, voice cracking and your scowl wavering.
“Doctor Gozu! She’s escaped-- Doctor Gozu!” The nurse had her eyes shut tight and was screaming the name of that horrible doctor, forgetting that your room had been soundproofed upon his own request, sick of hearing your wailing only a few days after knowing you. She was trying to kick you off, but you straddled her waist and refused to let her go-- She never let you go!-- Trying to figure out what to do-- How to restrain her-- What do I do what do I do--
“Open your eyes and I won’t turn you to stone!” You yelled at her, “I just want out of this place-- Why don’t you people have no hearts…!? I want out! I want my mom… I want my mom…!”
“She left the country, you stupid bitch!” The nurse screamed at you, “She left you behind because you’re weak! Get off me and maybe I won’t tell Dr. Gozu to punish you!”
You winced at the use of that word-- bitch, left, weak, or punish, whichever it was. But your look of pain turned back to a scowl, “I don’t care…!” Your eyes darted to her pocket, and you made the split second decision.
In a flash, you let her right hand go and slammed your fist against her head as hard as you could-- Once- Twice-- Three, four-- You don’t know how many times. Her face was bloody, as were your knuckles, there were droplets of blood on you, your bed, your hospital gown, your own fist bruising and aching and bloodied -- She stopped fighting after the third punch, knocked out, but you couldn’t help going further and further. You panted for air as you finally relented, sweating, and reached into her pocket and grabbed the syringe, looking at it in your bloodied hand with hate, loathing. But it could be your salvation.
You briefly considered using it on her. But she could be knocked out for an indefinite amount of time. Should you kill her-- No, God no-- The thought made you sick, even if she was a villain… A villain who was responsible for keeping you in this horrible place…!
So with shaking legs, you stole her coat, forced her into the bed you were often locked in, and did the same to her. All her limbs restrained with brown leather straps, gagged her with that wretched blindfold, and turned to the tray of food on the table that was your nightstand.
Can’t fight on an empty stomach.
So you sat on the edge of the bed, formulating a plan and ate-- With your hands, almost savagely, quick enough that you would probably have a stomach ache right after you finished but you didn’t care. You found two more syringes in the nurse’s pocket, all three labeled “LEVEL TWO PARALYZE” in small, bold letters on the thin white sticker of the vial.
Three shots. Three to get the hell out of here.
You stole her shoes-- They were a bit too big but they would do. You barely remembered how to tie a knot, but you managed.
How old am I?
You do remember a surgery performed on you when you were… When you were brought here. The scar was on your lower stomach. Your mother had given you a small explanation of the “Wonders of becoming a woman”... But you never had that happen to you. Did the surgery have something to do with it? Doesn’t matter right now. Now you have to get out. Get help… Would help even be nearby?
Never know unless you try. I’m already in danger… Might as well go all the way.
So with the nurse’s black, cheap, slightly too big tennis shoes on your feet, her white--stained with blood on the front--coat on your shoulders, you weakly walked to the door with shaking limbs. You kept one of the syringes in your right pocket, one in the left, and one in your right hand ready for use should anyone stand in your way.
Slowly, you turned the cold, steel knob with your left hand, carefully peeking out a small crack in the door-- then swung it open quietly.
You looked down the hall-- Left, right, left, like how your mom taught you how to cross the street.
Right leads to the surgery room. Left leads to Gozu’s office, I have to go through there to get through the exit. Two rights, skip a hallway, a left, through the door, through the room, through another door... It’s really late, he would have gone home…
Please, let him have gone home!
After taking a deep breath, you took your first step out of the room, refusing to let yourself collapse under the sheer pressure of this all.
Walk, walk. You can do this, (Y/N). We’re going to be free. Free. Free!
You had to support yourself on the cold white walls, taking it step by step as you felt your way down the dimly lit hall, looking around with the wide eyes of a frightened animal to make sure no one was going to appear and catch you off guard.
Footsteps. Coming up the first hallway where you had to turn, where you were just steps from turning into.
Oh, god…!
You pressed yourself flush against the wall and gripped the syringe in your hand, slowly raising it up, your face screwed up in a look of fear and fury.
I… I will… Escape!
As soon as the person-- A doctor, judging by his coat, not one you remembered, however-- walked past you, too engrossed in his clipboard to notice your presence-- You sucked in a sharp breath and brought your hand down, sinking the needle into his neck, emptying it into his body. As soon as the last drop entered his bloodstream, he froze in place, unmoving-- Not even breathing.
You left the syringe in his neck and let him fall forward, still stiff in his position, as you ran down the hall to your right.
Two shots left.
Next right, skip a hall, left-- You stood with shaking knees in front of the innocent door, looking like a typical office entrance, with the name “DR. GOZU” in bold letters printed on the glass, blinds on the other side obscuring the view into the office.
You can’t just run in like… Like last time. Be… Be smart. We got this far, don’t throw this away.
You pressed yourself against the wall next to where the door would open, gripping the second syringe in your right hand, then shakily knocked on the door with your left-- Once, twice, thrice--
“Come in.”
The muffled voice of Gozu came from within.
No…!
“... Come in?”
You were paralyzed, your legs telling you to run, your mind telling you to--
“Hello? Dr. Matsuoka, is that--” The door slowly swung open, and as soon as that bastard’s head stuck itself out the doorway, and he turned to meet your wide, wild eyes-- He froze. His eyes were left wide open. Then, they turned grey-- Grey, the sound of cracking stone-- Spread from his eyes-- To the rest of his face, through the roots of his already silver hair-- All his skin turned grey as it turned, his clothes the only things that weren’t transformed, turned to stone.
Petrified.
“Good riddance.” You growled under your breath, ignoring the shooting pain in your head, then pressed your hand against his face and pushed him back into his office, allowing him to crash down and break into several pieces. You especially made sure his neck snapped.
Gingerly, you stepped around his fallen, crumbled parts, looking around the room for any other signs of life amongst the stacks of papers, messy bookshelves, cluttered tabletops strewn with folders and books, some open, some shut, others stained or crumpled…
Then your eyes landed on the door on the other side of the small room.
Freedom.
Just as you were dashing across the room, you saw a certain file open on the now
late Dr. Gozu’s desk, urging you to slow down and look at it. On the first page, were two small pictures secured with a paperclip-- When you were first brought here, bloodied and bruised from the fight you put up, and the other-- W… Was that you?
“ Test Subject 394: Medusa.
Quirk: Petrify. She can choose a level of petrification she can induce on someone based upon eye contact: Lowest level is subject will be paralyzed for three seconds, highest level possible is turning the subject into a cement-like stone, permanently. Excessive use causes her to have migraines, eye pain, and lose consciousness. Can not be used through transparent surfaces, water, smoke, or mirrors. Highest level of petrification can be reversed, but the quirk becomes unusable for several hours. Currently struggles to control when the quirk is activated.
Capture date: X-X-XXXX.
Capture Details: Taken from sidewalk after leaving middle school.
Age upon intake: 14.
Current Age: 38.
Quirk Manifestation age: 3.
Hair Color: (H/C)
Eye Color: (E/C), turns grey 0.06 seconds before and while using quirk.
Height: (Height)
Weight: 52 kilograms (Malnourishment present)
Gender: Female
Original Name: (L/N) (F/N)
Known Family:
Father: Unknown.
Mother: (L/N) Michiko
Status: Unknown.
Quirk: Slow Down (People in her line of vision become extremely slow in their movements, as if time is slowing down for them.)
Occupation: Retired.
Location: Unknown.
Notes about 394: Is required to wear a blindfold 24/7, except when conducting experiments with authorized personnel only. If blindfold is removed, do not make eye contact under any circumstances. In the case of an escape, inject subject with PARALYZE LEVEL ONE to THREE, into large muscle such as thigh, forearm, neck, or buttocks. This drug is derived from subject’s own blood, and will paralyze the subject for five minutes to four hours.
PARALYZE DRUG FACTS:
LEVEL ONE: Paralyzes injected for five minutes.
LEVEL TWO: Paralyzes injected for thirty minutes.
LEVEL THREE: Paralyzes injected for four hours.
LEVEL FOUR: Turns injected into stone, permanently.
Immediate effect. Excessive use of ONE through THREE can cause nerve damage, loss of feeling in limbs and loss of eyesight, taste, smell, as well as organ failure. Key ingredient derived from 394’s blood must be mixed with a carrier optic nerve fluid, ratio 3:4. Optic fluid source does not matter.
_________________
You scowled as you read over the words-- Partially about having trouble understanding a few of them. This place didn’t exactly provide an education.
You then flipped the file shut, folded it, and slipped it into the inner pocket of the coat, then buttoned it up. The nurse had mentioned winter had come to the world, saying that it was, and you quoted, “Stupid fucking cold.”
Yeah, that nurse was pretty much the only means of “education” you received the past… You don’t know how many years. Which was mostly “celebrity” gossip, swear words, and answers to “stupid questions”. The doctor before Gozu, though… Was much more kind. He sometimes brought you books, taught you basic math and things like that… Even if he had a short temper…
… But in the end, he was keeping you prisoner, too.
So you killed him.
Accidentally.
You were scared. So damn scared. He had just introduced you to Gozu, then-- Then, when Gozu used his terrible quirk on you-- Trust vanished, no one could help you, no one could be trusted, no one, no one, no one--
You didn’t want to be a placid doll anymore.
You shook your head vigorously to get the thoughts out of your mind, then glared around the room. You spotted a scarf hanging on a hook by the door-- Which you took and wrapped around your neck-- Then opened up drawers, leaving them open, trying to find anything else that would be useful. No cell phone, the one that had been in Dr. Gozu’s back pocket got shattered… But you did find a lighter, and a bottle of… Alcohol? Yuck, the smell was awful.
… Alcohol was flammable.
Well, as as nurse Shimizu once said about the home of her ex boyfriend she commited arson on, “Burn, bitch.”
You poured the alcohol onto the desk, and then on to Doctor Gozu’s clothes, then struggled with the lighter for a few moments, almost burning the thin skin on your fingers-- No, you did--
Finally, holding a steady flame, you ignited one of the papers on the desk. The rest went up in flames, and you didn’t stay behind to watch the fireworks, as you scrambled out the exit door.
You ended up in another small room, abandoned to the world as far as you could tell. There was plain, generic waiting room chairs lining the walls, coffee tables in front of them, a clear pathway to the door on the other side-- Oh no--
Two men were walking in.
“Huh? What are you still doing here, doc?”
They didn’t know.
“I-Is that smoke? Fire! Doc, come on!” One tall man with black short hair and blue skin reached for you as you slipped your hand into your pocket, you stared into his companion’s eyes. You stabbed the blue-skinned man in the neck with the second to last syringe, emptying it into his body, watching the other man fall to the floor in paralyzation, ignoring the shooting pain through your eyes and head.
The smoke was starting to fill the room, forcing you to cough and gasp for clean air as you stumbled out the door they had come from-- Down another hallway-- Another turn, how do I get out of here!? Through one final door--
You were met with an alleyway. The air was freezing against your bare legs, hands and face. It was dark out, the sun you hadn’t seen since you were fifteen years old was asleep, the ground was damp as if it had recently rained. You stumbled towards the first light you saw up the alley-- The lights of a convenience store, the lights of a city , on to a wide sidewalk bustling with people who were enjoying the late evening, the sound of cars whizzing by... Music was playing from a shop somewhere. There was a big screen on a building, with the news on-- It was so much to take in.
And then your legs finally gave out from under you, as you collapsed, barely hearing the voices of someone yelling and asking if you were alright, then someone yelling to call an ambulance, someone yelling about a fire…
Joyous tears streamed from your eyes as you let them slide shut, not even caring about the cold concrete underneath your cheek being your bed as you felt yourself falling asleep.
Freedom.
You were free.