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At first it was dark. The air seemed thick around him, and for a minute Oliver felt like he had been roused early in the morning, during those dim hours where you could just roll over and pull the covers tighter around you before going back to sleep. But instead of rolling over, he found the beautiful sense of comfort was shattered by noise and light.

The boy almost toppled out of the small, pod-shaped container, catching himself by clinging to the side of it while he covered his eyes and tried to figure out where he was, and what had happened. Everything was so foggy. His thoughts were slow. They oozed through his brain like mud, and as his eyes adjusted to the light all he could remember was that SOMETHING happened. There were bizarre shaped machines in this bright room he had just awoken into, glowing pods. He had just come out of a pod. And in most of the others... People.

The memories began to solidify around the edges, like fog just starting to give way. He had been killed by people just like this. He had DIED. He had been terrified, and tried to survive, and struggled and died. He had been brought to this frightening shadowy world only to be KILLED.

Oliver began to shake, his breaths coming more rapidly as the fear returned. Why was he here? Where was here?

At the sound of footsteps outside the bizarre room, the weak, fuzzy-minded trainee whipped around and stared at the door like a trapped animal. Was this another trial? Another test? That heavy feeling of dread flooded his senses, and he did the first thing he could think of to survive.

He turned and ran through the rows of pods, eventually ducking shakily behind a pair of dark, empty ones. He could hear the door open, and the heavy footfalls of someone who definitely wasn't concerned about keeping their presence a secret.

The man who had entered had started rattling off some sort of talk, sounding remarkably cheerful. Maybe this one liked killing. Maybe he was trying to trick his prey into coming out.

Oliver swallowed heavily. His hands still shook, and his legs felt like jello underneath him. There was still too much cotton stuffed in his head for rational thought, but there was one thing for him to cling to. He really didn't want to die...

A remarkably neutral-faced Stormy entered the Life Labs mere minutes after the text, stuck somewhere between thoughtful and forlorn on the inside. A few steps in she remembered herself, however, and the usual cheery look was pulled back up as she located Ian. "Hey," she greeted. "Disney Princess at your service! For a toe-tapping song, press one. For an impromptu dance number, press two. For a hug, press three. For more options, press pound."

The sparkly look in her eyes suggested he should hit three.

"I got an assignment to pod duty," said Ian in explanation as Stormy came into the room. He waved the clipboard. "A hunter named Oliver Keeley woke up, but when I got here, the pod was open and the hunter has vamoosed."

Ian leaned closer to whisper conspiratorially, "Pretty sure he's still in here."

She was pretty cute - kind of like a little puppy sort of way, and Ian opened his arms, smiling.

"Option 3," he said brightly. "And then you get to help me play a little hide and seek."

There was a moment of silence in the pod room, much too long to assume anything other than his captors were speaking quietly, in tones they didn't want him to hear. The sound of his own harsh breathing seemed painfully loud. He cupped a hand over his mouth and backed deeper into the room.

Now the girl was trying to coax him out. He felt that lump of fear rise in his throat again, and suddenly he made a huge misstep. Someone must have been doing maintenance on one of the pods, because Oliver found himself stumbling over a screwdriver left on the floor next to a tool box.

It made a small metallic sound as it skittered across the floor, but Oliver was already off, scrambling away and ducking between the pods to find a new hiding place.

She took a moment to quietly sparkle at the high praise of giving awesome hugs. Then she squinted at the retreating figure she caught a glimpse of, undeterred and chuckling at Ian's groan. "Ollie-ver and Companyyyy~♪" Stormy sangsong after him, though she only took a few steps forward. Maybe a chase wouldn't help . . . What if she approached this like a wounded animal? Pursuing guarenteed only escape or a cornered animal, and she wanted this new guy's first experience to be a pleasant one.

Making the hold up motion towards Ian, she moved to the center of the rows and plopped down after gathering her coat under her. "I'm gonna be right here whenever you're ready, Mr. Olliver," she said to the air. "How's that sound? Ian'll probably chase you around, though, just warning you. It's like a good cop, bad cop thing. 'Cept he's not bad, promise! He also gives good hugs."

(This was clearly a good judgment of character.)

"D'you like music? Wait, who doesn't like music . . . Okay, rephrase that. What sort of songs do you like? I'm not all Disney, I can take requests!"

Stormy was given a teasing wink.

"I give excellent hugs," said Ian airily, waving the hand with the clipboard. "Just ask Shiloh, he knows all about my excellent hugs."

He could hear footsteps - faint, but also clearly defined in the echoing pod room. Ian slid his gaze sideways towards Stormy and then jerked his head towards the door, indicating she should go one way while he went the other. Ian leaned over and set the clipboard down on the ground.

"I was always a big fan of Aladdin myself," he said casually, as he snuck very, very quietly around a row of pods. He could see a figure near the door, a figure that was most definitely not Stormy's small, feminine frame. Ian's smile widened a little.

He crept closer. "The Lion King" was good too, even though they totally ripped off another movie in the process, but that's okay."

He was almost there...

"I particularly liked the scene with Simba and his dad - you know, the one where Mufasa teaches Simba how to pounce - "

At the last word, Ian flung himself forward, arms outstretched, and promptly tackled the new trainee around the waist, sending them both crashing to the floor.

"Gotcha!"

He had decided to make a break for the doors... but he had barely taken two steps when he was attacked by the guy. He hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs, and his head struck the ground hard enough to leave him seeing stars. This couldn't be happening, he had been so close to getting out...

Terrified and disoriented, Oliver did indeed take a deep breath. And promptly let it out in a loud shriek, kicking his feet out and struggling as hard as he could against the hold on him. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, his thrashing only just barely missing the girl as she sat nearby. "STOP! LET GO! LET GO OF ME!"

It was impossible, he couldn't get out... He couldn't...get enough air...

Suddenly the screaming and struggling ceased as he fell into a dead faint.