The Dracs and Korse had now moved out of our range so we decided to head further upwards until we reached the top of the stairs. The air grew strangely colder and I could feel a sickening pit beginning to grow in my stomach, and the pressure building up in my throat made me feel dizzy. I stumbled over to the wall and slowly let myself sink to the ground while Riot Panther entered a small state of panic.

"Fear? Fear, are you OK?" he questioned frantically. His voice ran through my ears louder than what it was and it felt as if it were bouncing off my skull repeatedly. I was in a dazed state of mind, and confused about my whereabouts for longer than it was. I felt as though I was falling, and I did. I fell into somewhat of a dream, only I could still feel Riot's arms wrapped tightly around me, and shaking. I could still feel the warmth emanating from him, and I could still feel his breath as he called my name. My fingers began to grow numb, and the room began to shake almost, and Riots touch became fainter and fainter as the time passed. It was hard trying to keep myself gripped onto reality, my eyes were becoming sore and heavy. With my last bit of strength I held on tight to Riot's jacket, but I could feel my grip loosening, until my arms went limp and fell to the floor. I remember my last glimpse of Riot, staring down at me with worry, then darting his head back as the hand pressed down on his shoulder. I watched as he was punched, and I saw the two pairs of legs as they lifted us up and carried us both away. Then everything faded to black.

I awoke uncomfortably, strapped to a lab table, staring upwards into the bright light. The beams pierced and almost blinded me, I was left vision-less for a short moment. When my eyes had finally fully recovered and adjusted to the brightness of the room, I could see white. White everything. The table beneath me, the cupboards, the ceiling, and the woman standing above me, smiling down, with pearls for teeth and a white work dress with the BLInd logo stitched neatly onto it in black. Her blond hair was made into a small bun at the back of her head, and her lips were heavily made up with bright red lipstick. Her eyes were deep blue, that were almost crystal clear when the light shone on them. She was almost a perfect woman. She stared down at me. Somehow she was making this happy expression, but deep down I knew she couldn't feel anything at all. I wasn't even sure if she was a real woman at this point.

I turned to look beside me and saw Riot lying limp on the table opposite mine. Towering over him were the two beings that captured and brought us here. Our escorts. Draculoids.

They were just standing there though. They didn't move, didn't speak, didn't sit. Just stood. Were they there to watch us, to make sure we didn't try anything? Or do they want to watch us being tortured, if that's why we're here. I just didn't know. The woman in white was quickly scuttling around the room, grabbing items that I couldn't see. She then made her way straight to me.

I was panicking. I didn't know what she was going to do. I would've liked to have said I wasn't afraid, but even I couldn't fool myself. Of-coarse I was afraid, I'm about to become this bitches test subject, and that was the last way I wanted to die. I'd rather die alone, outside of this god-damn city, free. I'd like to see the dirt and the sand again, and not the concrete holding me here. I'd like to walk alone, knowing that I don't have to hide, because there would be no threats. I'd like to die in peace.

I struggled to release my hands from the leather straps holding me to the table.

"Don't worry," said the woman, "I'm here to help you, I can fix you, I can make you a better person," The words were almost robotic, and she still had that same forced, happy expression plastered onto her face.

"I don't need to be fixed," I hissed at her. She laughed.

"Of-coarse you do, look at you. You're nothing but a weak rat. Rats must be exterminated." Her words were cold, and I grew even more afraid. "But," she began again, "There is another option. You could choose to be our rat. Our little pet. You could help us make this polluted, infested country, a better place, for better living."

She stared down at me, expecting me to agree to her idiotic choice. But I wouldn't. "No. Never. I won't become one of them," I spat as I turned to look at the two Dracs standing at the other side of the room.

"But don't they look better to you? Don't they look more important? You could trade in your life to become something of more worth. You could make a name for yourself here. I think you would like working at BLInd."

We stared at each other for a long moment. But I could see she was growing impatient. "Your death creates the future," she finally blurted out. The words had no emotion behind them. She wanted me dead for the benefit of the industry. She probably just wanted so badly to get that promotion.

"I said, no,"

"Well that's too bad, because you don't have a choice. You belong to us now, and you will do as I say, and I say you become one of us," she stood and lifted up the biggest of the surgical tools on the desk behind her, but as she turned back around a shot was fired right through her chest and she fell straight to her knees. Suddenly her eyes turned to a deep brown colour and her perfect complexion was now shattered as she wasn't the perfect woman I first met. She fell limp to the floor, staring blankly to the ground. She never moved again.

At the other side of the room a wrestling match was taking place with the most unlikely things. The two Draculoids were punching each other. Riot was now awake on the table but it was evident that he wasn't the one that shot the woman in white. It was one of the Dracs. I watched as the one on the right punched the one on the left, knocking the ray-gun out of it's hands. Then I watched as it pulled out a knife from its sleeve and stabbed the one on the left right in the gut. As it twisted the knife in its stomach, I watched as the blood began to pour out from underneath the creatures mask. Then it fell to the ground, holding its wound, but no longer than a few seconds later, did it take its last breath. The last one standing then turned to look up and stare directly at me. I could see its eyes behind the mask.

"What are you?" I asked, my voice beginning to break. I thought I was going to die of a panic attack.

"The question is, who are you? But I believe you already know who I am,"