The man in the white lab coat frowned. Subject O was not reacting well. And she had woken up. This was not part of the plan. Not part of the plan at all. Who was responsible? The man swallowed audibly. He would have to find a scapegoat, and soon. They would be here soon. Asking questions he couldn't answer. Snooping around. They'd dismiss him. Heck, they'd do worse than that. They'd kill him.
Subject O was screaming. Banging her stainless steel bedframe against the stainless steel room. Everything else was stainless steel, too. She was unaware she was being monitored. Her flame red hair was flying everywhere. Oh, how the man longed to stop her heart broken wails forever. But no, that was against procedure. Subject O had to be disposed of quickly and effortlessly. All of them did. When they woke up. For some reason, he felt fatherly emotions toward this wild, frightened girl. Without thinking about it, he dashed into the room, making the door crash against the wall behind it. He scooped Subject O into his arms, and sprinted out. It was a good thing she was small and slim for her thirteen years, as he was able to carry her more easily. He dashed out of the building and towards his car, panting heavily. He opened the door and threw her in the shotgun seat, climbing in the drivers seat and shutting the door, locking it.
The man, still wearing his lab coat, prayed under his breath. Muttering so fast Subject O could barely understand him. Barely. What she did make out had something to do with God and Please and Don't let them find us. She scrunched as close as she could to the car door, afraid.
And all the while, he prayed.
Please, God. Please. Don't let them find us. Please, God. Please. Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.....
