"Get in!" A voice shouted.
A boy dressed in a plain grey shirt is pushed into a cell with other young boys, some were sobbing silently. The cramped crate stunned the clueless teen.
One or two would come out of the cage almost every hour and none of them seemed to come back leaving the puzzled minor unsure what to do. The door is opened.
He sits there confused if he should come out, the man in the white coat motions for him to leave his dwelling. Hesitating, he takes the man's hand crawling out.
"Good boy…"
Taken to a small room with only one seat, a two-way mirror in front of them. The doctor pointed his finger showing him the proof he was being watched on the other side so he would not play any stunts.
"What do you want me to do?" He asks.
He is handed a paper and pencil, automatically the boy is shocked that it is asking personal information like age and name if he is sexually active all the way down to his shoe size and height almost five pages long asking a large scope of private material.
"No way! I am not doing this!" he yells.
A gun is held to his head, the good doctor is ready to pull the slide back with his finger on the trigger aiming it straight for his head.
"You have two choices, write or die lad."
Sitting back down the intimidated adolescent completes the paperwork promptly to the best of his knowledge, handing it to the man.
"Thank you, just stay here a little longer please." The doctor comments.
He waits almost a half hour before a group of men dressed in white hands the kid a pair of clothing and shoes. They push a hospital alert wristband around his dominant hand.
"You will change right now please." The doctor smirks.
"I-in front of all of you?" The teen asks.
"Of course not…" The doctor replies.
The group of men gives hideous smiles back, their eyes filled with glee watching a vulnerable boy taken from his home to be groomed by strangers who look down on their young victims. He would change and open the door when ready.
A long light green tunic and pants made for medical facilities, thrusting him back into the chair he realizes there are now three cups of red liquid in each container.
The cups are small and often used for rinsing at night after you brush your teeth, he stares down unsure if he should attempt to drink.
"We will start slow today." He said softly.
Lifting the small cup the boy downs the first cup spitting it out instantly all over the table spraying the contents all over the mirror and table. He drooled what was left out through sticky strings of saliva threading down staining his clothing.
"We expected this reaction, please proceed to the next cup and try to hold it down." He explains.
What is this?" He cries.
"Blood…"
"Why would you feed me that?" The boy argues.
Huffing he wipes his slobber on his sleeves progressing to the next, draining it quickly, you could hear his gag reflex going against the fluids. He holds his mouth, failing the challenge dribbling into the palm of his hand.
"Last one please and we will be done for the night." The doctor states.
The aggravated teen takes the cup dropping the contained goop letting it hit the ground, slamming the chair to the floor.
"Are you making me drink blood?" He screamed.
"You will learn when the time comes, you should do what you are told!" The doctor yelled.
He is held down given a needle pulled from one of the nurse's pockets under harsh restraint, in his best effort he pulls away from the crowd long enough to collapse to the floor. The man bows down curling his fingers in the kid's bright copper hair raising his face at eye level.
"Clarence…you no longer are alive, no one cares about you."
"That's a lie!"
"I will give you proof, for now, take a little nap." He snickered.
In the morning Clarence wakes to dart up from the blankets, attempting to pry the door open to note he is locked in his small room. The decorated windows are smudged impossible to look out of.
Hammering his body into the door he shouts loudly at each tackle till he is out of breath huffing on the cold tiles. The nurse opens the door holding two small cups of the same fluid he inhaled yesterday to hand him one.
"I am not drinking that!" He yelled.
She says nothing, setting them both on the counter and leaving, he is stunned that they aren't forcing him to consume the human blood. He weighs heavily through the day when he would be brought food, but none comes.
Only the sanguine fluid sat on the counter in two small cups, he acknowledges the camera sitting high in the corner of the room stagnantly watching his every move. He can tell right away that more than likely they expect him to take it.
Gazing up at the CCTV Clarence takes the proffered cup swiftly down one taking a huge gulp, he could feel it rise through his throat, but he managed to keep it in his mouth without throwing up.
Gawking at the second he inhales and exhales closing his eyes knocking it back.
His heart is racing, he holds his chest as there is now a burning increasing from his stomach rising to his ribs up to his heart. The door swings open.
"You finally decided to take it I see…" The doctor smiled.
Clarence is caught in his arms, hoisted up over his shoulders; the boy does everything he can to strike the man away. The pain would only become worse with small movements, he would wail in agony arching his back to relieve the pain.
"Stop it! If you fight it…it will only get worse." He scolded.