Experiment 1156, log 8.

1156 is combative. They are the angriest of all the subjects. Being the oldest means they are protective of the littles. And at night, I can hear their pathetic little whines. This means they have a will. It can be bent. It can be broken. It will be.

, Dr Andrews.

When John read this, he was sure he was in a horror movie. This whole lab had to be something of fiction, made from the minds of true insanity. But unfortunately, it was real.

As John and his men combed though the building, guns in hand, the sight was harrowing. Chairs with restraints, needles, dried blood. Most of the cells were empty, only hints at what had happened within them. But then he saw one cell.

The room was as beaten down as the rest of the them. The glass was cracked, the walls covered in scratches. And - most importantly - a teen in the corner. Shaking, thin, with blood staining their skin, scars and visible injuries. His hand hesitated on the door knob. Your notes said you were angry. He didn’t blame you. But he also knew your first instincts would be fight.

And he was correct. As the door opened, you screamed and attacked.

“Hey, hey. I’m not your enemy, kid,” John replies, making his voice calm. He gently restrains you, enough to make sure you don’t hurt him or yourself.

“What the hell did they do to you?” He whispers, his chest heaving. With you closer, he can see more injuries. It makes nausea fill him, and he pushes down the shake if his break.