Why the hell are they doing this to me? I lie here on the floor of my cell most days drowning in a puddle of my own drool... and why? Because I can remember shades of my life before.
Noah had the right idea in escaping. He could remember too. And he'd had enough. But Jesus, now B*E*A*S*T* is determined to keep every shifter who can remember any little detail about who they used to be doped up until they can be reprogrammed. I guess they don't want any more of their experiments attempting to escape.
If I ever get out of here, I'm going to hunt down the men who did this to me. And I won't rest until every last one of them is dead.
Jason in the cell next to me was taken down to the lab just this morning. Poor bastard. They're going to mind-wipe him again. It's a damn shame. He was a good man--could shift into a bald eagle. Now, he'll probably end up more like Tam or Sean. Just the thought of it makes me dread when it's my
turn to go to the lab.
These assholes, they made me a cougar.
But every time they dope me, they give me the serum as well. That shit prevents you from shifting. I guess they don't want any surprises when they come to drug me. Cowards. Two minutes is all I'd need to rip their friggen' arms off.
I hope I get the chance someday.
And I pray to God they don't succeed in reprogramming me. Christ, I can hear their footsteps down the hall. They're coming to drug me again! I have to get out of here. I would scream
at the walls, but all I can do is moan here on the floor as I stare off into space . . .
Noah thinks they'll never kill us because we're worth too much money to them. I don't know about that. I think they're gonna kill me with these damned drugs they give me. It's been a long time since I could feel my hands. Or my feet.
Or my will to survive.