"How do you raise a house full of psychopaths, Dr. Choi?" she asked, looking back through the glass at the small boy.
"Very carefully, Dr. Min. Very carefully."
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SUBJECT: JISOO
"Come with me. He's this way."
Dr. Choi Minho didn't remove his coat-just increased his pace to match the frantic footsteps of the tiny woman before him. Dr. Min Jule. He'd come a long way to meet her. She appeared in distress but, perhaps, she always seemed in a hurry. As she led him through a maze of darkened hallways towards the bowels of the enormous state-funded facility, a shiver slid along his spine. There was no way he would find his way out of there without a map or a guide.
When they reached a place where four hallways intersected, Dr. Min used a key on her belt to unlock a heavy door, leading Minho to yet another corridor-this one lined with large steel doors with tiny square windows, which one could use to peer inside.
As they walked the halls, the lights within the rooms wavered, like they were in the middle of an electrical storm...or a horror movie. A storm did rage outside-not one of rain but snow. An electrical storm made sense in a way. Everything about the atmosphere was charged with an almost palpable energy, like static electricity. The air, the lights. Part of him wondered, if he just reached out his hand, would he encounter some kind of invisible barrier?
Even Dr. Min seemed galvanized. Her hands twitched at her sides, her clothing wrinkled and clinging in places, and her frizzy blonde curls fought to escape the clip that contained them. Her chunky heels clicked on the peeling linoleum tiles, the motion lights kicking on as she passed each sensor.
Minho did his best to keep up with her, forcing himself to pay attention. He blamed his second glass of Chardonnay for his unease and inattentiveness. When Dr. Min abruptly stopped in front of the second to last door, Minho almost ran into her, startling her and causing her to stumble back a pace or two.
"My apologies," Minho murmured, tipping his head.
She wiped her hands over her skirt, like she'd just realized her clothes were rumpled. "This is him," she said in a clipped tone.
Minho peeked inside, his eyes going wide. "What's the meaning of this?"
Inside the room, a small boy with thick black curls and dull eyes sat tucked into the farthest reaches of the padded cell. His hair was matted with blood, his previously white sweats saturated with the now browning liquid. It was everywhere.
"It's for his own safety," Dr. Min assured him. "The blood isn't his."
Minho studied the boy who sat in the corner, his knees pulled to his chest, swaying side to side as he stared straight ahead, clearly close to catatonia. There was a pull to this boy, but if he was already showing fits of violence, he wouldn't work for the study. He had to get them before they found a bloodlust.
"Tell me what happened," Minho said gruffly. "Whose blood is it?"
The doctor's face flushed. "Another patient's. Liam Fin "
