Oliver had known it was coming for weeks now. He had cared for those minipets, fed them, performed behavioural testing and training, and now it was almost time. Tomorrow each and every one of them were to be euthanized.

There had been a brief training session, for himself and the other two LIfe trainees that were all overseen by the same hunter. It was simple and to the point. Syringe, injection, FEAR dissipation prevention unit. Repeat. That was it. Although it was merely a ratty, old stuffed toy the hunter had used for demonstration purposes, Oliver couldn't help but notice how callously it was handled.

A scene briefly ran through his mind, dim lighting, the sounds of scrambling and shambling and attacking and pained noises, and expressions of fear as hunters were attacked and bitten. Oliver thought he had mostly put it out of mind. He still had nightmares of course, and the two syringes of antivirus remained in his pockets, for all his intents to put it in his desk. He could shove down enough of the fright and mental trauma to get through the day. But he was not prepared for the violent way it struck his heart to see that stuffed toy handled poorly.

Oliver couldn't help it. He thought of the minipets he had worked with, right from the beginning he knew they were not really pets. They were subjects. They would be euthanized at the end of the study. Their FEAR cores were to be studied. But… wouldn't they feel fear too, right before their death?"

"Sir!" blurted Oliver. "P-please let me be the one… th-the one to put them down." He had volunteered without thinking it through, and there was surprise written on the faces of not only his peers, but his supervisor as well.

The boy wilted under the expression of doubt that followed.

"Keeley. Are you absolutely sure?"

Oliver nodded, his throat tight as his nerves began to run free. It wasn't a mistake, he didn't want to see them die, but it was an eventuality. If he backed off, ran away, left it to the other trainees, how would those minipets go? Would they be afraid? If he wanted them to feel love and safety in their last moments, he would have to be the one to see them through it.

"I-I won't jeopardize your research!" He insisted, and after a long look his supervisor gave in.

The other two were dismissed, and the hunter pulled Oliver aside with serious consideration. "Keeley. You don't have to prove anything to the others."

Oliver knew what his supervisor meant. It was no secret that he was the 'short straw' when it came to unpleasant lab tasks, nor was it a secret he was afraid of the smallest things. Whatever this older man had seen in him, it was clear he was not keeping Oliver around for his strength or bravery as a hunter in training.

The boy nervously considered his reply. "Um… i-it's not… it's not about that."

"Very well," The Life hunter said, leaning back and giving him a long look of appraisal. "If you can't do it, give the others a call and have them come help you. Don't leave it to the last minute. Our schedule needs them ready and waiting for tomorrow morning."

So it was, Oliver was left with the room of minipets.

This was not a main storage room, these cages were temporary, trays for the FDPU stacked on the counter immediately behind the stainless steel surgical table. Syringes were ready to go.

Oliver swallowed hard, and with that feeling of being in a dream, almost dissociated from reality, he opened the first cage door to pull out the minipet inside. He was greeted warmly, a happy tongue trying to lick everyone on his hands all at once. This one had always been one of the more outgoing subjects in the trial.

Setting the minipet down on the floor, Oliver pulled a toy out of his pocket and squeaked it. The minipet went absolutely bonkers. It ran around with delight for a few minutes, fetching and squeaking the toy like a young puppy. When Oliver summoned it back to his lap for a treat, the syringe was ready. The nape of the neck was the easiest place for the administration of medications, Oliver had administered routine substances regularly as part of his duties. He was quick and the pet didn't flinch, occupied as it was with the more immediate concern of devouring it's treat.

Oliver reached over his head and set the used syringe on the table. The minipet slowed down. It sleepily accepted ear scratches, letting it's tongue loll out as Oliver ran his fingers through it's fur. And then it was still.

That was it.

There was not much time for his mind to process the situation, the pain and horror that would strike the boy later were merely distant clouds on the horizon. He set his little friend on one of the trays, arranged it comfortably in a sleeping position, and slid the tray into the FDPU. Onto the next.

This one liked jingling bells, Oliver watched it bat around an old cat toy before picking it up for it's final moments. The next liked scratches under it's chin. One licked his face so insistently it made him laugh, and he buried his face in it's thick neck fur and hugged it tightly.

One by one he played with the pets, smiled at them, loved them, and killed them. Dinner came and went, but Oliver remained in the lab. The extra time given to each little life kept him in long after the sun had set. And then finally, there was not a cage left. Half the trays were in the machine, storing their contents safely until the FEAR core and structure could be examined properly. There were five syringes left. Had his supervisor left him with extras, just in case he messed up? It didn't matter. The used ones had been discarded into a black bag marked with the BIOHAZARD symbol, the counter got wiped down and sanitized with alcohol. Each cage was sterilized. Oliver barely felt the time pass as he performed each successive task in a daze.

It wasn't until the moon was high and the sounds of sparring and extra training on the field had died out that he emerged from the lab buildings. There was a light breeze, the sound of the waves carried from the distant beach, but it just felt unreal. Had this day really happened to him, or was it someone else who had been in there with the syringe?

Oliver passed a couple hunters without noticing who they were, reacting distractedly with a wave when he heard his name, and passing without a word.

The dorms were uncomfortably warm compared to the outside air.

He passed a door that rested cracked open, with laughter coming from inside.

He passed a door with muddy boots resting in the hallway, one tipped over.

He came to his own room, and in the dark he went through the automatic process of pulling off his boots, hanging up his coat, undressing for bed.

And then in the dark silence he finally began to cry.