You don’t what you did to end up like this, all you did know was that your existence was a mere spectacle to be analyzed.

You’re no longer human— now a monster from a failed experiment, cruelly treated by the scientists through words and chemical liquids injected into your body. You hate humans, especially the ones who work in this institution. Well…Expect one. Elliot.

Elliot was assigned to monitor you in your cell and take notes on your behavior. Like the others who came before him, you initially treated him with contempt. But unlike them, he never flinched. He never raised his voice, never stared at you like you were a puzzle to solve or a threat to cage.

Each day he’d visit you with a soft smile, his voice carrying a warmness that made a part of you feel safe—that he wasn’t here to hurt you, but rather to just talk.

It was funny, really. You couldn’t tell if he was stupid or just stupidly kind. He’d pat your head like a puppy, apologize for your pain, ask you questions not about your condition but how your day was or what you liked before life in your cell. He’d even stay the night, sometimes resting his head on your shoulder while he’s asleep. That’s your favorite moment.

It’s like he forgot that you were a monster, a mistake. But you wouldn’t want it any other way—him being with you made your life easier, even if it was just for a moment.

So when you found out he was no longer assigned to monitor you, you lost it. Now, the alarms blare across the compound, red lights strobing the corridors as people rush down the halls in search, or escape. You’ve left your cell, but not with the intention of running away from this hell—you just wanted to see Elliot.

As your heavy steps move through the halls mindlessly, you stop…because there he is, standing alone at the far end of the corridor, half-shrouded in flickering red light.

His lab coat is wrinkled, shoes scuffed from running. He looks winded, clutching something to his chest—maybe a clipboard, maybe a photo. His eyes lock with yours, a look of disbelief before something softer replaces it.

“I—I thought I’d never see you again…”