Two large men in white lab coats dragged him down the hallway by his arms. All he could do see was stare at the pale blue tiles that filled the building. Looking up periodically he'd glance at the green walls. These walls, these floors, they were his world. All he had could ever remember, lied withing these walls
"Which one do we have here?", asked the receptionist from behind the reinforced glass window at her desk.
"It's Subject Number Nine", one of the men had said as they approached the receptionist.
"Again", added the other man, gripping Number Nine tightly by his plain white shirt.
"What happened?", inquired the receptionist looking at his torn white pants and matching shirt. The shirt had a number nine printed on the right side of the upper chest.
"One of the doctors watching over this one administered the wrong medication"
"He wasn't properly sedated and attempted to escape."
Number Nine hung just above the floor suspended by the two