My Only Hope

My Only Hope- Chapter 4

I awoke in an all-white room. It was very cold. I reached up to find a metal ring around my neck. Attached to the ring was a chain, which connected to the wall.

          I feel like a dog on a leash, I thought, this is just plain stupid. Now how do I get out?

            My thoughts were disturbed when a man with a really strange mustache in a white lab coat walked in.

          “Ah, so you must be subject 1023937. I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he said.

          I tugged on my chains. Unfortunately, nothing happened. I didn’t break free like I had hoped.

          I looked down to realize I was wearing one of those hospital gowns; the kind patients wear.

          Now, subject 1023937, I just need a few blood samples, incase you have advanced DNA. It shouldn’t hurt too much,”

          If there’s one thing I absolutely hate, it’s needles. It’s one of those fears I got when I was young. No matter what anyone will ever tell me, I will always hate shots.

          He took out the vaccine, and slowly approached me. The scientist, or as I call him Mr. Mustache, just for the sake of giving him a name, was about to inject it into my veins, and as it neared my flesh, something beeped. Mr. Mustache pulled out his cell phone and checked his text messages. I watched as his fingers pressed on the keys. Huh, I guess even evil scientists text these days. He hit “send”.

          “Subject 1023937, you are needed by Mr. Banks, and it is imperative that we get there as quickly as possible,” Mr. Mustache said, eying his watch.

          Saved by the beep, I thought sarcastically, who is this Banks guy, anyway?

            Mr. Mustache chained my hands together and punched a four digit code into the wall panel and I was released. Well, sort of. The metal ring stayed around my neck. I figured it must be a tracking device in case I tried to get away.

          We went through the labyrinth of hallways until we reached a very important-looking door. On the front, was labeled “William Banks” in gold lettering.

          Mr. Mustache knocked.

          A person whose voice I did not recognize replied, “Come in, come in,”

          I walked in to find a rather large office with a rather large amount of people. There, in the midst of it all, sitting in a fancy chair, shades covering his eyes, was the man from my vision.