The darkness began crumbling.
He jerked awake with a sharp intake of breath and squinted his now-opened eyes against a blinding white light — the complete opposite of the darkness he had been in earlier.
'Where am I?'
He blinked a few times to focus his blurry vision and unconsciously tried to sit up, but his limbs felt heavy.
It was then he recalled…
'I must have passed out again. I wonder how long it was for this time.'
Cold, steel chains clamped around his wrists, ankles, and neck. With the little movement he could make, his eyes traveled downward, and he caught sight of the transparent tube embedded just slightly to the left of his chest. With each breath, he could feel the tube attached directly to his heart.
It was ten years ago when the doctors grew frustrated with the inefficiency of searching for his veins each time they wanted his blood. It was not efficient and fast enough for them, so they put him to sleep using chloroform, and when he had awoken, this tube had become a permanent part of him. Now, with the tube in place, they had easy access to his blood at all times.
The thick, transparent tube never ran dry of his blood.
Of course, they had not asked if he wanted to undergo the operation… he was nothing more than a resource for them. In fact, they had not asked for his permission in his entire life. According to the bits and pieces of information he overheard from the doctors, he had been brought to this underground facility on the second day of his life.
Moreover, he had learned, despite their initial greed for his blood, they had not gone overboard in siphoning it. Each time, only a measured amount had been drawn from his veins. But slightly over twelve years ago, one of the doctors discovered his blood regenerated at the speed of light. That was when their greed had increased. At first, they still punctured his veins for blood. But greed consumed them, and soon, even that was not enough. So they teamed up with a biomedical engineer who developed the transparent tube that directly attached to his heart.
And thus, even though he knew it was his blood that had caused him to be in this situation, he did not hate his blood. He hated the doctors. He hated the way they observed him from behind masks. He hated the way they moved around his bed and checked the machines, checked his restraints, checked his IV bag, and muttered to each other in disguised voices about progress and how to increase efficiency.
His eyes then shifted to the rest of the white room. It had become a habit to take in his surroundings each time he awoke. It was the only way to pass the time.
Rows of different machines surrounded his hard metal bed, flashing with cryptic symbols and numbers he could not understand.
Just then, a female voice came through from a speaker above his head, "Test Subject, you are finally awake."
He clenched his jaw, as he always did. That was right. He was a test subject. To them, he was only someone to be studied. He had no name. He was not a person to these vile creatures, who bound his limbs and neck so he would not be able to kill himself or escape and siphoned his blood twenty-four-seven.
Nevertheless, after a bit of internal struggle, he replied, "Yes, Doctor Rose. I just awoke. How long was I asleep for this time?"
Doctor Rose chuckled.
"You have been… peacefully asleep for twenty-seven days."
He furrowed his brows.
"It seems I'm sleeping more and for longer each time now… how weird. Doctor Rose, do you know why that is happening? It doesn't seem normal."
Silence… No answer came out of the speaker. However, he did not mind and simply looked up at the white ceiling in boredom.
Over the years, he had grown accustomed to Doctor Rose's eccentricities — her strange, abrupt pauses and her refusal to answer even the most mundane of his questions.
Suddenly, the metallic click of a lock turning caught his attention. He quickly glanced over to see a white-masked figure clothed in a white lab coat walk into the room. After locking the door, as if he could run away, the figure approached him.
He blinked a few times, confused by the actions of the approaching figure. Even though the mask and white lab coat hid the person's features, the way the person walked, and the curves of the body… he recognized the person… Doctor Rose. Ever since, that one day… she never entered the room in person, yet here she was.
After stopping near his bed, Doctor Rose chuckled and smiled knowingly behind the mask.
"You seem surprised. Well… it makes sense. I never showed myself after I taught you everything a high school graduate should know. There isn't a need for face-to-face contact anymore, is there?"
She paused, as if expecting a response.
Meanwhile, he blinked as his guess was affirmed. That was right, as obvious as it was… he was not a fool. He had been taught subjects like English, math, science, and history. The lessons began without explanation or purpose. They had not made sense then, and even now, they still did not make sense.
What was the point of an education in this underground prison, where he was just a source of blood strapped to a bed?
"I guess a late congratulations is in order." Doctor Rose continued after realizing the Test Subject remained silent.
He sighed. He was unsure how to respond to the half-assed, hollowed congratulations, and that patronizing tone. Still, he replied, only to keep her talking, "Uhh… thanks?"
Doctor Rose laughed disdainfully and brushed off his response.
"I'm sure you have many questions. Questions about why I educated you, why I showed up here, and about why we do what we do."
His eyes widened, swallowing hard, he stared intently at her.
"Yes."
He had asked her many times. Why teach him? Why bother educating him when he was nothing more than a blood source?
He remembered her reply as if it had happened yesterday:
"It's simple. It's about efficiency. An educated test subject… is far more useful. It helps you understand what's happening to you and makes you easier to control."
Even now, he could taste the bitterness he felt from those words.
On the other hand, Doctor Rose reached her fingers toward the thick, transparent tube that ran from his chest to the machine beside his bed. She gently stroked the tube and gazed at the red blood within with a greedy expression behind her mask.
"I wonder. If you've ever questioned the value of your blood?" She murmured, almost as if she were asking herself.
He gritted his teeth. He had questioned it a thousand times! Why was his blood so valuable?
He still remembered the day he learned blood regenerated but not at the speed of light like his blood. Yet, that could not be the reason why they continuously took his blood. There had to be another reason.
Yet, each time he asked, Doctor Rose had stayed tight-lipped.
But today… she was more talkative… Moreover, she even took the initiative to bring the topic up.
Without waiting for him to speak, Doctor Rose continued, "Your blood is rare… So rare, that it's… unique. It has a property that others would kill to possess."
This was it! This was what he had been waiting for! He swallowed.
"Property? What property?"
"It heals! Your blood accelerates the recovery of skin, bones, and cells. The people who consumed your blood didn't just heal faster, they healed better and became more resilient. It's the perfect substance for regrowth."
He gasped.
"My blood can heal."
So that was it! That was why he was forcefully taken from his parents, chained to this bed, and turned into a human reservoir.
Doctor Rose nodded slowly.
"That's right, your blood heals."
She then shook her head and continued, unknowingly forgetting to disguise her voice, due to her excitement. It sounded middle-aged and raspy.
"But that part is… now useless. Your blood can do more than just heal… it Awakens!"
He frowned and gave the middle-aged woman a questioning look.
"Awaken? What does that mean?"
Smirking disdainfully behind her mask, Doctor Rose explained, "It's beyond your comprehension, Test Subject. But… I'm in a good mood. You're lucky."
Doctor Rose's voice became more and more excited.
"People in our world have lived their entire lives hoping for a chance like this, enduring years of grueling training, undergoing brutal transformations, yet most failed to be chosen by The System. … But you?" She scoffed disdainfully with noticeable envy. "You were simply born with it! You were born as a Chosen! Unlike the rest, you don't have to train, everything was given to you on a silver platter! What makes you any different from us? Why were you born with blood that Awakens the Trial!?"