Horace woke up in pain. He looked around himself and saw that he was on a bed with the softest mattress he had ever been on. Actually, Horace realized that he had never been on a mattress before. He reluctantly rolled to the edge of the bed and took in the room. An empty night stand, a chair and a door. That was it. He took a deep breath and walked over to the door, testing to see if it would open. Locked. His breathing began to speed up, he hated being trapped. His panic rose until he was on his knees in the center of the room, fighting to control his breathing.
He heard a hiss and looked up at the door. It was open. Relief swept over him and he blindly charged the door. He heard someone yelp and he exploded from the doorway and to freedom. He slammed into a wall and finally took some time to get his bearings.
He was in a hallway with doors on both sides. he looked to his left, where his door was still open and a startled looking middle aged man stood looking at him. It took the man a few seconds, but he regained his composure and spoke. "Horace right?"
Horace nodded.
The man smiled, "Good. I am Jake. Would you mind coming back into the room? I can leave the door open if you'd like." The man seemed far too friendly. "I simply want to talk to you and perhaps ask some questions."
Horace locked his yellow eyes with the man's brown. "I'm not going back into that room." He said it with a snarl and he could see the man flinch a little bit. "Why are you scared mister? Is it the horns?"
The man said nothing, remaining uncomfortably silent. Horace smiled at him, being sure to show his sharp teeth. He slowly approached the man, flexing his toned body and rolling his broad shoulders. When he was right in the man's face, his expression changed to anger, "I didn't choose this," he said, gesturing to all of himself.
The man had fear in his eyes but managed to stay calm. "We can help you. That's why you're here. We really just want to help you out."
Horace didn't move for a while, instead holding eye contact with the man. Eventually he backed up and said, "I still won't go in the room. We can talk out here."
The man sighed, apparently relieved that Horace wasn't going to kill him. "That's fine." he paused and wrote something on his clipboard. "If I understand correctly, the government did this to you, correct?"
Horace hesitated, memories flooding in. Memories of his parents. Memories of his sister. Memories of so much pain. Before he could think too long he nodded. The memories of how he had become like this made him feel weak, and he didn't really appreciate that.
The man shook his head, "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be."
"So I take it you don't like feeling trapped."
Horace didn't say anything.
"Is this a product of the tests conducted on you?"
Horace leaned against the wall, "I'm not gonna talk about 'the tests conducted on me.'" He said it motioning air quotes.
The man scribbled something on his clipboard and stood up. "I won't make you go back into that room, but I can't have you roaming around, so if you'll follow me, there is a lounge room you can stay in."
Horace didn't move or say anything for a moment, but decided to cooperate. "Under one condition."
"That being?" The man asked.
"Get me my sister. I'll go there if she can be in there with me."
"You have yourself a deal Horace."
