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pressing his chin upward as she braced his head against her belly. He grunted with
    fury, his eyes flashing brown fire, but she shook her head.
    "It's necessary, Captain. I'm sorry." She shrugged at his snort of contempt. "You'll have to endure it."
    "This is an artificial neurotransmitter being inserted in the hypothalamus," the Director explained, furthering unsettling him. He felt something cool on the skin just below his
    elbow then the sting of a needle being inserted into his taut arm.
    "Do you have him, Bridie?" one of the women asked.
    "Yes."
    "He's all yours then."
    The women stepped back from the table.
    THE FIRST thing Cree felt was the heat. Intense, invading, blistering heat. It
    flashed across his face, curled along his neck and lapped at his chest. It ran down his
    outstretched arms, scorched his fingertips, pulsed down his chest, spread to his abdomen, then shot down his legs, singeing the hair. Felt the blood inside his veins boiling, his skin peeling away, exposing cartilage and bone, heard the very marrow inside him breaking
    open and sizzling. So instantaneous was the sensation, so penetrating, it felt as though he had been dropped into the gaping maw of an inferno. The pain was unlike anything he
    could have imagined. The heat took his breath away as his lungs began to bake inside his
    chest.
    "Stage One complete," he heard the computer announce.
    After the heat came the most frightening feeling he had ever had in his life. Along with
    the suffocating feel pressing in on his lungs, he began to experience a sensation of
    impending doom. He was being drawn toward a precipice over which he knew he would
    be thrown, tumbling, pleading, screaming to his death, his body broken and exposed on
    the jagged rocks below as it hit, laying the very core of him open to view. The imminent
    sureness of his death came lunging up at him with the speed of an asteroid hurtling
    through space and he screamed behind the constriction of the mouthpiece stuck between
    his teeth.
    "Stage Two complete."
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    He was drowning, water flowing down his nose, his air cut off by the invading
    thickness. He was sinking beneath a wavering, frigid surface, ice floes hovering just
    beyond his reach. The water was filling his lungs, inflating them to bursting, filling his body cavities with the freezing liquid. The harder he fought to reach the surface and the cleansing air that would free his blocked lungs, the deeper he plunged beneath the white
    surface until all light was blocked out. He screamed again, his eyes wide and bulging, yet seeing nothing.
    "Stage Three complete."
    "Blood dripped from wounds on his arms and legs. His jugular had been ripped open
    and the dark crimson arterial blood shot out in pulsing jets. Flesh ripped from his body, teeth clamped down into bone, grated, then the lower part of his right leg was torn away.
    He was growing weaker by the moment as fangs sank into his organs, spreading poison,
    killing him. Claws ripped into his belly, drawing out his intestines and his bloodcurdling scream was only matched by the howl of the monster that was devouring him, inch by
    bloody, painful inch. Something pulled free of his lower torso and he watched in horror
    as his manhood disappeared behind the wicked teeth of his killer. His eyes rolled back in his head and he pitched into darkness.
    "Stage Four complete."
    Bridget eased her hand from Cree's chin and gently removed the wedge of rubber.
    There were teeth marks deep in the surface, strings of phlegm clinging to the wedge. She
    took a cloth from Dorrie Burkhart, one of the techs, and wiped the thin stream of saliva
    that had dribbled from the corner of the Reaper's mouth.
    Cree came awake almost as quickly as he had passed out. He stared blindly up at the
    woman bending over him checking the reaction of his pupils. The light hurt his eyes,