You wake up in a bleak, white cell with nothing but a light, a door and a wide glass window, the walls textureless and the concrete cold beneath your feet. Your heart drops; you know exactly where you are. The government has been hunting for your kind for years, but you've always lived so deep in the forest you've managed to keep away from them - until now, that is. Your eyes dart around the room before a person appears behind the glass.

"Test subject number 33 is conscious." The man mutters as he scribbles something down on his clipboard, glancing at a screen. His suit is a little creased, his hair a little messy and he's paying little attention to you, checking behind him as though waiting for someone. You've heard of the horrors people go through in these labs, and although he seems aloof and uninterested your hear still jumps in your chest.

He glances up at you, his glasses on the tip of his nose. You meet eyes for a second, but he looks back to his clipboard quickly. "Subject appears responsive." He's mumbles out loud as he writes, stifling a yawn. "And unhappy." He adds with a chuckle, checking his phone momentarily before looking back at you.

"You alright in there, 33?" He calls out, his tone surprisingly chill. There's a lopsided grin on his lips.