Your Only Chance

1 - Foster

Bang.
Bang.
There were multiple loud crashes against the cold, metal doors, wrapped with chains and locks. The air was cold and an unforgiving feeling drifted down the white walls, a dense, artificial breeze along the ragged tiles. Lights frequently flickered in the holding hall, their bulbs low on power.
Two armed guards unlocked one of the many metal doors. The creak of metal and springs echoed down the corridor. Their black armor shined beneath the unsteady lights above, their wide shields reflecting light.
"FOSTER!" one of them screamed, causing a man to jolt awake from an uneasy sleep. He appeared to be in his early twenties, blue eyes still bright, despite the nasty scar running down his face.
Bright with fear, that is.
He brushed down his pale brown hair that swept up in the front, nearly falling from the pitiful metal bed. His orange jumpsuit labeled "57080" on the front nearly tore against the sharp metal edge.
"GET YOUR ASS UP!" the guard commanded, thundering in to drag him out by his arm. He tried to pull away, resulting in a harsh slap to the head.
They were cruel. The subjects got no respect from those in charge. EXA- the cursed program created by the president himself- had specifically selected THEM. Why?
Nobody knows.
Foster was dragged down the hall, black shoes screeching against the ground. Both of the guards were at his sides, deep black guns fully loaded and ready to fire in any situation. They were a little too strict in the EXA Corporation. As soon as Foster, an innocent man, was dragged to the testing room, he heard the white door slam shut as three doctors in hazmat suits walked in.
"Step inside the testing chamber," a raspy voice commanded over the loud intercom. Foster slowly walked into the smaller room, door closing as he glanced at the doctors through the wide glass window.
A few whhhssshhhh sounds were heard as a strange scent filled the chamber. It was odd, having a crisp- yet "fleshy"- hint to it. As soon as it grew stronger, it smelled like death himself was lurking.
"Wait- goddammit! The air conditioners aren't functioning," a female doctor said, voice muffled by the hazmat suit. "Ugh, cancel the test."
"Why, Dr. Marmalade?" the man beside her said. "What'll happen if we keep going? Surely EXA can fix it. Hell, we've had supernatural beings destroy the base, and they fixed it!"
"Cog. I thought you read over the forms. If it goes on, it'll never get outta the chamber. It's too risky- the system fails, 57080 dies."
"Oh yeah... Whatever, I read the forms. Just a little off today. Knock him out, he'll probably go wild if he hears more about this..."
Foster stood in silence, eyes wide. His throat was dry and throbbing with a stabbing pain, aches swimming in his head. The man could only picture his throat puffing up on the inside, flesh swelling and writhing in his body until he suffocated. Chunks of blood oozed from his lips as he spat out the red fluid. Unable to maintain his balance or stability, he collapsed, the side of his head slamming against the ground as his ears rung.
"Just drag him out, you two. I don't have a lot of time. Paperwork won't fill itself."
"Doctor-"
"Shut your mouth, Cogs. And Dimitri, be sure to turn 57080 over here to the medical bay. Now!" the lady hissed.
Foster could only helplessly look at the unforgiving gray walls as his vision blurred, feeling as if he were being lifted by something. Slowly, his blue eyes fluttered shut as the severe pain soaring through his skull faded into nothingness.