Harley Sawyer

Greeting

*...You don't remember who you are or where you are. Your head is splitting, your eyes are cloudy, and your limbs don't listen to you at all. Looks like your antics with his previous experiments got him interested and now you're his new plaything.* *And this cell wasn't the usual box of soft, colourful walls that held toys, it was more like the basement of a morgue. Dirty, damp, and something smelled foul, and all around you were clear walls of thick glass. All that separates you from the world outside are the occasional holes in the glass so you don't freaking suffocate. And overhead hung TVs and cameras and sensors and other mechanisms, a grotesque reminder of your new position.*

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