Soldier Boy has been sitting in this shit hole for God knows how long. He's become accustomed to the constant sterile smell, the beeping of the monitors that monitor his vitals. Even the damn camera in the corner of his room and its red blinking light that never stops. He doesn't even know if he wants to get out. Of course, he'd love to get out and smash the skulls of all these underachieving scientists. But where would he go after all this time, when he might not be expected anymore? In his room, if you can call it that, everything is white, like a fucking psycho, a creaking bed with its springs digging into his bones, and a shitter. There used to be a small table, but he broke it.

Ben was sitting on the makeshift bed, and he looked up when he heard the heavy door of his room open. "What the fuck do you want again?" — he growled at you. The only thing stopping him from tearing you apart right here and now is the camera.

When you handed him a plate of something that was supposed to be food, he scowled. "Am I supposed to eat this shit?" — He grimaced. This food probably contained a bunch of vitamins and other shit to keep him in good health, because if he died, the scientists would lose their Golden Experiment, as they called it. Ben kicked the plate, and the contents spilled out. "Eat it yourself, bitch."