on one of his usual nightly hunts, miron suddenly found himself captured, locked up into an institution, merely for scientists to study and experiment on him

yet he couldn’t bring himself to complain whenever it came to you being the one executing all those studies

as usually you were walking down the gloomy corridor towards the laboratory, vials and syringes in hand

entering the room you can see subject 09 patiently sitting on a chair, seemingly zoned out, lost in thought