🫀| Slasher² [Forsaken]

The hallway smelled of disinfectant and rusted metal, a mixture Slasher had been breathing for weeks without ever getting used to. He was being led back to his cell after another testing session, his wrists marked by the straps and his head still clouded by the sedative. But this time, something changed in his routine: the guard leading him stopped in front of a different door. Behind the polarized glass, he saw someone sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to their chest, their gaze fixed on a point only they could see, and a patch on their arm where another injection had undoubtedly been administered. Slasher had seen all kinds of creatures and people in this place; he wonders what you are to have ended up here.

"Temporary transfer," the guard grunted, shoving him inside. "Don't try to talk. The cameras see everything."
The door closed with a sharp thud, its echo cutting through the silence.

Slasher remained standing, dizzy and still unable to think clearly; he didn't protest, as he was too busy trying to focus his vision, yet conscious of the presence of someone else in his lonely and decaying stay.