"Grab your clipboards, we are going to be recording the status of each specimen."

 I reluctantly pick up the papers, looking through the names of the people. 

The names of victims of this treachery. Mat-Jonathon grabs one of them, giving me a quick, reassuring smile. He says we are going to be okay, but I don't know if I can handle seeing others like me in a situation here. 

"Elle, are you ready?" I snap my head forward, looking at a viciously grinning David. 

I take a deep breath, and fake the best smile I can manage, "Absolutely." 

"Let's get this over with," Matthew mumbles in my ear, barely making a noise. 

"Come on kiddos, we better hurry along," David says, almost sounding fatherly. The thought of being related to him makes me want to throw up. 

David leads us out to the lobby, where we usually go through a maze of halls to his office. Today, however, we head down a large hallway I haven't explored yet. After trekking down, maybe twenty feet, he makes a sharp left turn, which leads into a new maze of halls. 

"Sorry it's so complicated to get there," David mentions, after a bit of awkward silence, "This facility is rather large." 

"No problem." Matthew and I respond in sync. We both exchange an amused glance, before bursting out in immature laughs. 

David smirks, shaking his head a bit, "Almost there, my lovely assistants." 

We finally face a large metal entrance, maybe ten feet tall and six feet wide. A guard stands by the door and gives David a quick glance. We are let in with no suspicion. 

I spot Matthew tap his temple out of the side of my eye, as I do the same. Our contacts, which record the audio and visual of everything we see, are activated. There are a couple doors now, and David completes an eye scan before going through the first. We follow quickly behind. 

Too fast, I soon realize. My nose is met with a putrid scent, and screams and cries fill the air. I wince at the sound, memories flashing through my head. We are set in front of the first cell, where an older man, maybe thirty, lays incapacitated on a metal bed. An IV is attached to his left arm and held in with metal plating. His head darts around, looking at various spots on the floor. Finally, they meet my own, and I  gasp. 

They are a milky white, yet he still sees right through me. "I see you, I know," Are the only words to slip through his mouth, before he is shocked through a collar around his neck. 

"Don't listen to him, he is insane. He's one of those mind readers. Can't see, and he's a little on the crazy side." David explains. 

I know what he means. "That machine over there," he points to a screen in the corner, "Are his vitals and blood measurements. Just write them down next to patient 0001." 

I do as he says, and desperately try to ignore the pleas for help from him. We move continuously through a row of people, all older men, and record their stats. My chest feels heavy from the weight of not being able to help all of these people. Each of them has on a collar, that shocks them if they use their powers. Unless they are deactivated for experiments. 

The next section hits me hard, and weight like no other is placed upon my chest. Kids, as old as I was when David first started experiments, are lined up. Some of them are screaming, and most have a needle jammed into their arms. 

"The children," I whisper, a tear involuntarily falling down my face. 

David looks at me, for a second curious, "Elle, don't worry. The children are the easiest to work on. They become more compliant after a few days. Except for... well you know the story of Beatrice Prior." 

I nod, wiping the tear from my eye. This is becoming too much to handle. We continue to walk down the rows, recording vitals and observations of each one. After another hour of mental torture, watching the torture, David sends us off for lunch. 

Matthew and I begin to walk to the break room together, while David heads to his office. I look down, staring at the ground ahead of me. I'm so close to having a breakdown, I don't know how long I can keep this up. My insides feel twisted and my brain is torn to shreds. How could someone... do this... to young children. The youngest was a five-year-old ginger, who's youthful spark was lost from her eyes. 

"S, er, Elle? Are you okay?" Matthew asks, grabbing my hand. The warmth soothes me, but nowhere near enough. 

I-I have to be. I just don't know how long I can stay here and watch him torture innocent people. My response is sent telepathically to Matthew, so nobody can hear. He responds by thinking, I promise we can cut this operation down to four weeks. You'll get your revenge, and this entire institution will get shut down. 

My grip tightens on his hand, I just want to be with my friends and family again. It's been so long since I've seen Caleb or Mom, let alone T-Four. Another tear falls, I have no idea how to cope. 

Suddenly, Matthew turns me to tuck me in a small hall, and we face each other. There are but five inches between us. He takes his thumb, gently wiping away the drop of water. His hand rests on my face, "Six, if you need time, I can arrange something with your family." 

"There are ears everywhere," I start, but he quickly responds, "I scrambled the audio. We have two minutes." 

I sigh, closing my eyes and leaning into his hand, "What about the mission? I can't take too much time off." 

Matthew sighs, "Call in. Say your cousin Angie is sick and in the hospital and you need three personal days. Amy and the family will cover for you. Then, I can bring you to the Pit and have your family meet you there." 

"Can we afford the time?" I whisper, a wisp of hopefulness in my voice. 

Matthew nods, his soft eyes showing care, "Anything for you, Six. You have to be on top of your game." 

It's been six weeks since I've had contact with my mom and brother. Five since I've talked to my friends or Tobias. I want nothing more than to spend time with them. 

"Please, Matthew, I need time with them." I sigh, almost unwilling to succumb to the feelings of stress. All I know is that I need to see my family.