The white bulb of the light – like the ones surgery rooms have – washed all over my already pale skin. I reached up to rub my eyes to find that it was restrained at the wrist to the metal slab I was lying on.
Turning my head, I saw my kidnapper shuffling through labeled test tubes, each filled with a kind of a chemical I didn't learn about in my chemistry class. I watched him closely as a bead of sweat rolled down my face, dripping off my hair and onto the metal table. I swear, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Slowly, the man walked over to me, holding a long, merciless needle that was filled to the brim with one of the liquids from the test tube rack. And as the needle pierced my skin, he pushed down on the top of the syringe as the icy hot chemical flowed from the tub into my muscle. Almost instantly, my muscles lost control of themselves and soon I was thrashing around violently in the restraints, jerking at the leather straps. The liquid burned intensely as it flowed into my body. I let out a strangled cry and clawed at the metal desperately; begging for the pain to stop and promising him anything he wanted if I was set free.
And he would just smile and say, "I'm already getting what I want."
The next couple months went by this way; him injecting me with strange compounds and me screaming in agony until my throat went numb.
And then, everything went dark.
My name is Sai, and I am test subject fifty-one.