An uncomfortable shiver ran up Melissa's spine as she scrawled her signature on the marked line. She shoved the document away before she could change her mind, passing it to the sharply dressed older man across the table. Her options were few, and this was one of the worst. Given the choice, she would have rathered deal with the devil himself. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know, an unholy amalgam of used car salesman and family law attorney.
Whatever they did to her, she could at least take solace that her mother would be taken care of. Life had been rough since the death of her father; neither woman had any meaningful job prospects, and working at the local diner only helped so much. They were effectively homeless, riding on their landlord's compassion. She was drowning in a sea of debt, and Kohl Pharmaceuticals lent a hand. They would pay her rent and expenses for life, even going so far as to guarantee medical care for both her and her mother. All they asked for in exchange was her body.
"When you are ready, the man outside will take you to your quarters. We like to give our new test subjects some time to adjust before they participate in any trials. Nervous subjects make for bad results."
"Do you have any idea what they'll do to me?"
"Sorry dear, but I'm just an attorney. Even if they saw fit to tell me, I doubt I would understand. You should not worry so much; our subject mortality rate is only 0.4%. Kohl Pharmaceuticals is on the cutting-edge of restorative medication and trauma care. After your month is up, you'll probably come out fitter and healthier than you came in."
It had to be an incredible talent to say so much yet do so little to reassure her. "Don't worry, we can fix whatever we break" was not a very comforting promise. Given her situation, it was probably as good as she was going to get. She thanked him flatly for his help before leaving through the open door.
Sure enough, a middle-aged man in green scrubs and a face mask was waiting for her outside. Without a word, he led her through the featureless, white corridors. Windowless doors alone gave any sense of distance or progress as she walked mindlessly through what was apparently called "Subject Housing Block D". She had been walking for a good five minutes when she was suddenly struck by the scale of this operation. There must have been hundreds of rooms in this wing alone, and the name implied there were also A, B, and C blocks somewhere - drug companies were rarely known for their whimsy.
A strange sense of solidarity calmed her aching nerves, a reassurance that she was not alone. These days, being indigent was practically par for the course. It was not surprising that so many would sell the only thing they had left.
"This is it. Room 1601. Everything you need is in there. A technician will come to pick you up in the morning."
She would have walked right into him if he had not spoken, lost in her own thoughts after giving up trying to find entertainment in the minimalist decor. The room was sparsely furnished but sizable, larger than what she became used to after they were evicted from their family home. There was even a bathroom, even if it was just a shower, toilet, and sink in the corner.
The door closed behind her and locked, an uncomfortable reminder of her predicament. For the next month, she had no real rights, having signed them away in what was feeling more and more like a Faustian pact. Even worse, she was exhausted. She had been up since the day before, unable to sleep through the night and then sneaking out of the apartment early in the morning. Her tired eyes floated between the plain bed and the shower before deciding that a shower could wait, falling into bed fully dressed. Despite her anxiety, sleep came quickly.
"It is now 6:00am. Please ensure that all hygiene standards are met within the hour."
Melissa awoke with a start, pulling the pillow around her ears to deaden the drone of the repeating message. When it finally stopped, she dragged herself lethargically out of bed, torn between the comfort of sleep and fear of the consequences of failure on her first day.
She stumbled towards the shower, disrobing as she walked. The water was pleasantly warm, reinvigorating her slight frame. She was only barely an adult and her body showed it, lacking the feminine curves of her family's more aged women. She was not by any means unattractive, simply possessed of a more "athletic" build. Her face was certainly attractive, soft and feminine and set with dark green eyes.
Hot water beat down on her back as she rinsed the soap from her shoulder-length brown hair. She had plenty of time and planned to use it. She certainly had little else to do. She washed her body vigorously with the strong but odorless soap they provided, glad to finally feel human again as the sweat and grime of two days of stress rinsed down the drain. After half an hour she emerged, red and pruned and began to dry off.
Still steaming from the shower, she sought clean clothes, rummaging through the small dresser next to her bed. The contents of each drawer was the same, crinkly blue hospital gowns stacked in neat piles. At least she didn't have to worry about what to wear. She slipped into one, tying it behind her back before turning to examine the rest of the room in greater detail.
Aside from the speaker above her bed, there was little else to see. Her stomach reminded her that it liked to be fed in the mornings, though she was in no position to deal with that. She flopped back down on the bed, drifting in an out of consciousness until the door opened, dragging her back to the waking world.
"Please follow me. You are to get started right away."
A man in green scrubs, possibly the one from the day before, announced his presence. His tone was businesslike but not particularly harsh. Nothing about the man looked as if he cared past his job description, appearing more tired than she and even less enthused. She was at least nervous. He was downright bored.
Melissa followed without protest, following her guide back into the tangled mass of featureless hallways. Her stomach twisted as they left the relative familiarity of the residential blocks and entered what was labeled "Testing Block 3". A multitude of employees and other subjects marched quietly through the wide hall, the first faces she had seen since she signed on. It did not take long for her to notice that she was alone in being alone, all the other blue-clad subjects in long lines behind a single green technician.
"Why am I not in a group like everyone else?"
"Generally, test subjects are sorted at random into any study they are fit to participate in. It helps maintain a pure sample set, or something like that. I guess that you were requested specifically by a particular faculty member, though I have no idea why. It's nothing to worry about, it happens pretty often."
Though the hall was otherwise silent, no one seemed particularly disturbed by their conversation. The employees all looked disinterested and the test subjects were a mixture of bored, nervous, and barely awake. When Melissa was younger, she had considered studying to work for a research lab, principally because of her father's lingering illness. While she no longer had the option due to circumstance, she wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't for the better. Science was not as glamorous or exciting as it seemed. Her life was hard, but at least it was interesting.
The throng thinned as they walked deeper into the research block, dwindling until she and her guide alone remained. The air hummed with the invisible efforts of various hidden machines droning incoherently in the empty hall. Her anxiety grew with every numbered door they passed. She was different, somehow. She did not want to be different. She wanted to be with the other subjects where she could at least feel safe, even if she was not. Well, she actually wanted out completely, but that was no longer an option. Before she could worry herself to a fit, her guide motioned to her to stop.
