WARNING: mentions of blood and being caged.
_________________________

     The room was dark. Yet he still would've been able to see if not for the blindfold covering his now closed eyes. The rose-Ruby orbs hidden from view to keep him in the dark no matter the time of day or night. He'd been here for days he knew, though how many he did not. Sitting alone in the corner of a silver-painted iron cage. He'd been here enough times to know its dimensions, though not by number: wide enough on all sides that if he stayed in the middle he couldn't be reached, tall enough that if he stood he'd still have to bend over slightly, and that the door was code-sealed and scanner-locked.

     He was hungry. That was all he knew in his conscious mind at that moment. Hungry and scared.theyd thrown rats at him for him to eat, but even if he tried to catch them how could he? His arms were bound around his small frame in a too tight straitjacket, held there by thick black straps. It was one of the first precautions they'd taken to make sure he was subdued and keep him from attacking them. They'd bound him in a straitjacket, locked him in a muzzle, and chained him to the floor of his cage. Keeping him rooted to the spot.

     Though he only ever tried to fight back in the beginning, not wanting to be locked up. As he assumed anyone would. No, after that he never fight back. It only led to painful "sedation", as they called it. He knew on a simple eleven that it was meant to put him to sleep. But it never did. There was too much silver, it only made his veins to burn like fiery acid through his body. So much so that it hurt too bad to move. So he'd simply curl up as best he could on the floor and lay there hoping it'd all stop soon.

     Though right now he couldn't think about all that. Couldn't think about how confusing it was that they elders doing this to him. Why did they hunt him down and chain him to the bottom of a cage? (His cage, as he now thought of it). Why did they force him to wear a straitjacket and muzzle? Why did they put this liquid fire in his veins and laugh at him for it? Why did they hate him so much? What had he done wrong?

     But his mind was now lost to those thoughts. Too caught up in his hunger. Even the rats they threw at him now looked appetizing, if only he could catch them. (Which he was hindered from doing by his straitjacket, and was made impossible by the muzzle). He glared and hissed at a guard that came too close. He didn't understand the words tossed at him nor the smirking sneer given to him. He didn't even pay heed to the mocking tone of the strange man. All he acknowledged was the fact that he could hear the man's heartbeat, small the blood from a papercut hidden beneath a band-aid on his hand and sense the fear and uneasiness that rolled off the man every time he hissed or looked at him.

     Faintly, as he sniffed to catch more of that blood-scent, he smelled something else. Something vaguely familiar. He sniffed again and found it was coming from himself. And again to try to figure out through his blood-lust clouded mind what it was. Thick forest, metal and smoke, cloth and a soap he couldn't name, as well as others.... People! (He finally came up with). It was different individuals. Did he know them? Some part of him told him he should.

     Movement from the guard caught his attention and his thoughts were lost once more. Oh, he realized he'd missed the Los sound coming from the hall. That was why the strange man moved. He hissed, unsettled, as the man put a hand in the metal thing at his waist. There was more movement before several other guards burst in the room. Then all went unfocused as there was a small pain in his side and the fire once again spread through his veins. He was lost to the world as he hissed violently and thudded over on his side to curl up on the dirty floor of his cage and more noises surrounded him. He heard yelling and gunshots before he stopped listening as the pain spread to his whole body...