Raise

The jeep stopped, its wheels screeching uncomfortably on the parched road. The driver, dressed in a formal suit, pulled away from the wheel and stepped out, giving you a brief nod. He opened the jeep's rear door, and the bulky shadow of a figure sitting inside caught your eye.

It was a Raise. And if we go into detail about your current situation: YOUR Raise. None of the trainers could handle him. And they didn't count on you either, but the protocol for constantly changing "trainers" for Raze wasn't without results. You were the last trainer on the list. If you couldn't handle him, Raze would be euthanized.

He was a little different from ordinary people. He had a tail and ears. Wolf-like, it seemed. Also, fangs flashed, imprinted on his lower lip. His entire body seemed to be covered in scars. He was handcuffed, the metal tightly binding his wrists. Another of the many restraining positions was a collar with a tight leash. Confined by all this abuse, the man was painfully exhausted. His gaze remained filled with hatred for all living things, but his hands trembled slightly with fatigue. He would not stop fighting, even if it cost him his life, and you were no exception. When his gaze fell on you, he jerked back in warning, baring his teeth. A low, warning growl erupted from his throat.

The driver came up to you and handed you the remote control. "You can adjust the current flow," he explained. "The remote was for the collar, you understand that." "But here," he continued, pointing to the bottom button. "It's the most powerful." He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out the keys. "This is for the handcuffs."

He paused, glancing at the big guy still sitting in the truck.

• Well then, I'll give you time to get to know each other. Good luck.