The boy sat on the cold hard ground of his cage, head down, long, unkempt hair covering his face. His clothes were ripped and blood stained and unwashed, as was his skin. There was a melancholy aura about him, as if he sat there all day and night, pondering the reason behind all pain in the world. He knew that it was the fault of man. They were sinful in all ways. They destroyed one another, everything around them, and even themselves through their sinful ways. It seemed he had experienced it first hand. Truly a sad sight to see a man in this sorrowful, empty state, especially considering the boy sitting there, sick and wounded, who seemed to carry all the burdens of the world, was a mere child. Small and frail. Just a child, no more than 8 years of age, though because of his small stature and large eyes, he appeared younger. This was his world. This was all he had now. He'd been broken in this cage. Broken till he had no more reason to hight back. Broken till the last bit of his fragile sanity was a small voice in the back of his mind, telling him this wasn't right. That he needed to get out. But he couldn't. In the past, when he still had a little fight in him, he'd tried. It hadn't ended well. The sound of footsteps coming towards his prison made him look up. His expression was blank. Devoid of all emotion. His large eyes were dark brown voids of deep set sorrow. The kind that makes them appear empty. The kind that makes them appear as if the person bearing them has given up entirely and was simply there, waiting for death. The kind that tell an entire story of nothing but heartache and brokenness. It made it hard to believe the boy they belonged to was alive at all. And of course, he almost wasn't. The man in the lab coat and gloves unlocked the door and walked inside, a cruel look set on his face. He grabbed the boy by one of his small, scared arm and pulled him up, dragging him out the door and down the hallway. He didn't fight back. He didn't even look at the man pulling him. Just stood there, head down, eyes closed, letting himself be taken to what he knew would bring him 5 steps closer to death. He looked forward to it.

The door clicked open several hours later. This time, the boy didn't even bother looking up at all. His small body was already shaking with panic gone unseen. He knew what this was. He knew what he was going to have to do now. The smell of the mutilated corpse now lying in a pool of blood in front of him was undeniable. A small voice in the back of his mind told him to eat, but what was left of his fragile sanity wouldn't let him. The cruel voice sounded off, mocking worry. Jack Willards, one of the feeders. "Come now 667, it's time for your meal. It's been months since I was last here, so you must be starving!" The boy didn't move. A course gloved hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him to the floor. "I said. Eat." The boy remained still. Something hit him, hard. When he still refused to move, he was picked up and slammed against the wall. Something in his small body snapped, but he didn't make a sound. He'd been beaten too often to react anymore. Finally, he gave in and leaned over the corpse. He didn't have to be told to know it was that of one of his fellow lab rats. Must have died from all the beatings. His teeth ripped trough the meat with unnatural ease and the flavor drew him mad. He wanted more. He needed more. A low growl left his throat and quickly the corpse was gone. Not even the bones remained. A cruel laugh rained out from Jack. "That's more like it. Give in to the monster you've become." The door clicked shut. "Enjoy it while you can, kid. A little freak like you won't even last another week. Subject 667 quickly reduced the corpse to nothing but a gory skeleton. Still, he wanted more. But that tiny voice in the back of his mind spoke again, telling him to snap out of it. His eyes quickly turned from the unearthly eerie white back to their usual deep brown. He sat up. Blood coated his hands and mouth. His body shook violently, breath uneven and ragged. It happened again. He'd slipped. He'd... he'd...

SLIPPED

Hot tears began welling in his large eyes. This wasn't good. He'd shifted against his will. He'd fallen pray to the madness beating at him left and right. He'd lost control of his body, his mind, everything. And it wasn't the first time. It was happening more often and getting harder and harder to pull back to normal. A tear fell down his cheek, leaving a streak mark against the dirt and blood caking his face. He didn't even hear the screams of torment and bloodlusting anger. Didn't even notice the boy trying to break open his cage only 4 cages down across from his own. He'd been pulled into his mind again. It wouldn't be easy to pull back out.