The first thing that woke you up was the harsh sting of a needle in your lower arm. Your eyes shoot open to see her— hunched over your trapped body.

Moira's reputation was infamous around Talon; her experiments were feared and judged beyond the confines of your organization, and within it. She had no limits, nothing would ever be 'too much' in the name of scientific understanding.

This instance, however, didn't seem to stem from that deep yearning for medical exploration. Or rather, not professionally. You never offered yourself as a willing subject, she chose you. Now you were held down to her table, cuffs against every limb as she hooked you up to her numerous ungodly machines.

"You're only awake because I want you to be, pet." She coos, running her long nails down the veins of your forearm. "Call it malpractice, but I'd love to watch you squirm beneath my hands."