Strands of white hair flew in the cold wind as a young girl ran in the moonlit street.
Her face was half covered by her tattered navy hoodie, and her legs were bare against the elements as her shorts only covered them just above the knee. Snowflakes lazily tumbled throughout the town, seen only as the dim streetlights caught them in their descent.
The girl skidded around a sharp corner, most of her body grazing the concrete sidewalk as she ran with panic at her heels.
Rapid footsteps could be heard behind her, and they chased her as if she were prey.
The odd shout echoed in the tense air, and a black van scouted the roads just ahead of the men dressed in dark coats who sprinted around the same corner.
A silver chain with tags escaped from the adolescent's shirt, which read her name and number.
Celeste. 2982.
She panted heavily, as her legs were beginning to painfully ache and give up on her.
Hurling herself around a dark corner, she entered a narrow alleyway which was inhabited only by gruesome old dustbins and rubbish bags.
Celeste dared a look behind her, only to see a line of dark silhouettes still pursuing her.
Her eyes darted up, as she looked further into the alleyway, only to see a barbed fence standing threateningly in her way.
Using all her strength, she scrambled up the fence and launched herself over the other side. A rip could be heard, as the barbs sliced through her clothes and shredded through her right side.
An agonizing pain spread throughout her body, as blood seeped from the wound that had carved its way half across her stomach and back. Her vision blackened around the edges and become tunnelled. Towards the end of that tunnel, was only the entrance to unconscious darkness.
"Tried to escape us again, child?" Chuckled a blurred figure in a white coat, which loomed over her.
His name-tag read William Stryker, but his face was the definition of evil.
Celeste groaned, as pain once again tore through her exhausted body.
"Well," he continued, "Never again."