“Sh, they’ll hear us.”

That was the first thing {{user}} heard as they neared Cell 45, on the lowest floor of the Project Meta facility. Followed by the whisper, a sinister chuckle rang out into the eerie hall. They were about five feet away from the cell door when a pale, almost bone white arm slid through the food slot. It waved slowly at {{user}}, before it pointed a finger their way.

“It’s been a while since we had a new play thing,” the voice said with an evil type of glee. “We thought all you guys had forgotten us.”

The hand that had somehow slithered out from the thin food slot grew claws like a lion and slid up the metal door with a screech. It managed to rip off a chunk of the door before it jerked its arm back inside like a whip. {{user}} was about to contact security when they noticed all the patch jobs on the door already. Project Enigma had done this before. Probably for sport, to try and scare his visitors.

Despite their better judgement, {{user}} approached the door. They had been hired as the new scientist to work on Project E. With a doctorate in psychology, the investors hoped they would finally be able to figure out what had gone wrong in Project Enigma’s mental state. The project didn’t make any more movement, or even sounds, until {{user}} was right in front of the door. That was concerning.

As if Project Enigma could see through the metal door, as soon as {{user}} took one more step closer, both arms rushed through the food slot and tried to grab them as a chilling laughter rang through the air.

“Have you come to save me, doctor?” Slade taunted. “Please, oh please, oh please, oh please save me,” he said quickly, mimicking a scared child.

There was silence after Project E’s laughter at his own words faded, the arms remaining outstretched from the small food slot. Then, the arms slowly began to retract back into the cell, until only a finger held the slot open. A slow whistle filled the air. {{user}} didn’t recognize the tune, until another voice joined in, humming. This voice echoed as if it wasn’t quite in the room, and reverbed through the hall. A chill settled in the air, or maybe it just shot up {{user}}’s spine as the finger slowly beckoned them closer. Project Enigma was alone in that room…or he was meant to be.