"Dez, you can stare at that milk all day long, but you're not gonna topple it over. I know we live in an undead-infested world now, but at least try and stay within the realm of possibility. You don't have telekinesis," Trish jests, nudging the redhead's shoulder with her elbow as she passes by him.

"Just 'cause I haven't said anything about it yet, doesn't mean I'm not upset about you and Austin coming back so late," he answers, disregarding her comment. His gaze remains unwavering from the half-empty jug.

"It's not like you set a curfew," she shoots back.

"It was implied," he presses, firmness dripping in his tone.

"Look, we got a little lost on the way back, it wasn't like we were trying to stay out past sundown." Her voice loses its strength, gentler at the understanding that this was just his protectiveness resurfacing. She circles the kitchen counter back over to him and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You okay? I kinda wanted some cereal, so I'm gonna need that milk eventually..." His eyes still trained on the glass, he rests his hand on top of hers.

"This milk is fresh." He finally tears his sight away from the jug to look at her. Her brows pucker in confusion in response.

"I'd hope so…" she says, taking a seat at the kitchen island next to him. "Like I said, I want cereal." He leans in to her.

"The milk is fresh," he reiterates. She pauses, the realization striking her. A duet of gasps behind her concur. Austin and Ally, just now entering the kitchen, turn their attention to the jug of milk, as well.

"I can't believe I didn't even think about that," Ally berates herself, taking a seat at the counter with her friends. "Refrigerated or not, there's no way that milk should be fresh. You guys...didn't bring back any milk with you when you did that grocery run, right?" she asks, turning around to Austin as he walks up behind her and rests his hands on her shoulders.

"We did not. To be fair, there's been plenty of other distractions more uh…more important than, well, dairy. But yeah, that's...that's pretty weird," the blond attempts to comfort her. "I don't know, is it even possible?"

"Maybe the people who lived here had a cow somewhere and had gotten fresh milk right before they left?" Trish shrugs, trying to make sense of it all. "That's possible, right?"

"I don't think so. Milk expires after a couple weeks. Fresh milk, even faster. Trish, you've been here longer than that, haven't you? Frozen milk can last up to six months, I believe...do you remember taking the milk out of a freezer?" Ally questions the girl. Trish tilts her head, more confused than ever now.

"Right. I was here longer than that, and no—it was fresh when I got here. So that must mean...either we've got some kinda magical milk that doesn't expire or…" Trish trails off, not sure if she wants to entertain such an idea.

"...or what? Someone's been breaking in and replacing it? Maybe other food, too?" Dez shake his head. "That is beyond wild." He points at the little printed date on the jug. "Even if that were the case, who would be coming in and replacing it? How would they doing it? Why would they be doing it?" Dez cradles his head in his hands as he racks his brain for answers.

Ally turns herself around in her seat and looks up at her boyfriend, hoping he had any inkling of an answer, but he's as lost as she is. Trish twiddles her thumbs on the counter, a few thoughts on her mind, but not enough gall to speak on it. Not when it dredges up that horrific memory she'd been trying so hard to bury within herself. "I…" she begins, but immediately silences herself.

Her three friends turn to her, waiting on her answer. She shakes her head.

"No, it's ridiculous."

"Nothing about our situation makes much sense. I don't think you can come up with anything too ridiculous to be possible at this point," Ally affirms, gesturing with her hand for her friend to continue. Trish swallows a lump in her throat before speaking up again.

"That...the research lab," she begins. Without needing to say much else, her friends understand where she's going with this.

"...they must be behind this," Dez finishes for her. Trish nods in silence.

"So they're sending people over to make sure we have fresh groceries? Why? I don't get it," Austin queries, scratching his head.

"Wait, Dez, you mentioned hearing that...that scientist lady saying you and Trish were prime specimens, right?" Ally brings up, careful not to use the woman's name and set Trish off in any way. She does notice her curly-haired friend wince a little, but perhaps that couldn't be avoided.

"Right. They must've meant we're healthy. In good shape...for testing. They probably wanna keep us that way. Maybe they think we're calcium-deficient, hence the milk." He strokes the little ginger hairs growing off his chin in thought.

"But how are they keeping track of us?" Austin questions further. "The same guy who restocks our fridge is checking in on us while we sleep or something, too? Wouldn't that be a huge risk to their...their, uh...operation?"

"Hidden cameras?" Dez offers a possible answer. "It's actually very easy to hide tiny cameras everywhere, even in plain sight. Heck, I've done it with Austin."

"You what? I—no, you know what? I don't wanna know." Austin dismisses it quickly, realizing who he's talking to.

"They might even have technology built into this home that's constantly checking our vitals," Ally adds in. "To make sure we're healthy. Like some kind of 'Smart Home'. This definitely looks like the kind of residence that would have something like that."

"So...does that mean they're watching us right now? As we speak? They've been monitoring us this whole time?" Trish asks incredulously, feeling immensely violated in many different ways. "Why haven't they moved in on us yet, then? It's been long enough."

"They might be waiting for us to attain peak health?" Ally answers, though she's uncertain herself. "Either way, we should leave. We need to leave now."

Not even five seconds after Ally had finished her sentence, a piercing alarm goes off throughout the foursome slap their hands over their ears in pain, practically immobilized by the shrill sound. Through the sound of the siren, they hear heavy slamming and watch as the windows around them are barricaded with metal doors sliding down on the outsides. Once the slamming ceases, so does the alarm, leaving them in complete darkness as they're closed off from any semblance of daylight. Even the sounds of the creepers they'd chained up outside, which had become a nearly ambient tune after so long, are silenced by the barriers.

Ignoring, for the moment, the cries and rapidfire questions of his panicked friends, Dez fumbles around in search of a lightswitch, gliding his hands across the nearest wall until he finds one. He flicks it up, but to no merit. The power's been cut, he realizes, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Guys, quiet!" the redhead demands of them all, and they cease their frantic words. Silence. They remain in it for a good minute or two. Just as Dez is about to speak up again, they hear a heavy whoosh, then the creak of an opening door—the raspy growls of the creepers can be heard again, but only for a moment as the door seems to re-shut. Footsteps, undoubtedly human, approach them.

Dez starts to feel woozy; he's unsure if it's from fear. He hears a couple thuds close him, heavy and dull as they hit the ground. "Au-Austin? Trish? Ally?" he utters out, before losing his strength. He crumbles to his knees. No response from his friends. Nausea sets in and he falls fully onto the ground, his consciousness escaping him.

Bright fluorescent lights are never the ideal wake-up call. They might as well be a symbol of death, reminiscent of the flickering bulbs in horror films, or the ones that populate the ceilings of most hospitals—the bright, white light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel. It's enough to rattle the bones of the confused foursome as they wake in a new, radically different environment. With white tiled walls encasing them, cold and isolating, the only relief they find is taking in the sight of each other.

Though relieved embraces would have to wait. They strain, trying to break free of the bonds that keep them locked down onto what feel like exam tables. Only their heads and necks remain unrestrained.

"Are we...where I think we are?" Austin speaks up, breaking the sound of the unbearable buzzing of the lights that seemed to grow louder and louder as minutes passed without words.

"They caught us," Dez answers, defeat in his voice. "I guess they probably were gonna eventually. They do have the resources." He purses his lips, wondering whether or not this would be a better way to go than…the alternative. Then again, they could survive the testing. The idea is to keep them alive, right? Imprisoned, maybe, but alive. Dare he hope for a good outcome? Would all four of them, possibly, be okay?

"I feel my limbs going numb," Ally utters, trying to shake her body awake as much as she can within the bounds of the restraints. She sighs. "Guys, we need a plan. When they come in, we need to remind them that we're people. They can't just see us as lab rats if we connect with them as human beings. Right?" It's wishful thinking. Ally's not naive; while she likes to think everyone has the potential of goodness inside of them, she knows just how evil human beings can be when pushed far enough. An apocalyptic situation like this would be one heck of a shove in that direction. Still, she holds onto hope. She wouldn't have made it this far without it.

"Maybe…" Dez responds, trailing off. His brows scrunch together in worry; he hadn't heard a word from Trish yet. He cranes his neck back to try and see the table behind him, but struggles to get a good look at her face. "Trish? Trish, you awake?"

She lays frozen, breathing and conscious, but frozen, as if lost in her mind. She doesn't hear Dez, or any of them for that matter, having let herself drown in the cacophony of her own loud thoughts.

"Trish?" Dez tries again, relieved when he takes notice of the rising and falling of her chest, a little fast-paced, though he couldn't really blame her. She's finally snapped out of her thoughts.

"I-I…yes. I'm…I'm awake. I thi—I think," she responds, her voice trembling. Dez struggles to get loose from the straps, longing to reach her, to comfort her, at the sound of her voice. Ally's no different, but she manages to slip a hand through its belt.

"I got my hand free!" she whisper-yells to her friends, and they encourage her to keep going.

"You got this, Ally. See, your tiny child-hands are useful, after all!" Austin adds, trying to be supportive, but is met with a glare from his girlfriend. Just as Ally manages to get her other hand free, the four of them turn their heads to the double door across the room that had swooshed open from the center.

A figure dressed in white approaches Ally's table and with much more powerful hands, locks hers back into place within the bonds. She groans, all that effort for naught. The other three, unnerved by the indiscernible masked person dressed in all white, remain quiet. While they all had so much they wanted to say, the anonymous nature of their captor silences them.

"Are you…a friend of Etta's?" Trish is the first to speak to them. Her three friends turn their heads in her direction, surprised she'd taken the initiative to ask despite everything that had happened. The masked figure seems to stare at her for a long moment, saying nothing and remaining perfectly still, until they decide to take their leave back out through the swooshing double doors.

"I think you hit a nerve," Dez comments, chewing on his bottom lip in anxiety. Trish retreats back to quietness, not wanting to worsen the situation they're in even more, knowing she'd already done enough. Ally begins to struggle again, fighting the straps around her wrists. They'd been strapped even tighter this time, of course, and it's not long before she gives up.

"What do we do now?" she voices her thoughts aloud. She's met with silence, the three others wondering the same thing.

Another swoosh and two more figures walk in, approaching with a march-like gate. It is as if they're intentionally trying to seem as inhuman as they possibly can. They must have overheard Ally's plan from earlier, about connecting with them as human beings, and sought to derail it somehow. Or perhaps frighten them into submission?

Before the four could even begin their pleas, the two figures promptly move to inject them with some kind of fluid. It's not long before they find themselves passing out again, falling back asleep under the harsh fluorescent lights.

Austin awakens, finding himself unrestrained on a new bed, slightly more comfortable than the one he was in before. His eyes take a moment to adjust, and he gazes around the room, taking in his surroundings but by bit.

It reminds him of a gym, complete with a treadmill, a set of weights, and an elliptical. Scratching his head, he gazes past the home gym to the large window. Not a window to the outside, however, rather to what seems like a room made for observation. He can feel the sides of his face drain of heat—is he supposed to be some kind of zoo animal here? And where are his friends?

He stands himself up, groggily, and takes a better look around the white-tiled room. "Ally? Dez? Trish!" He calls out. No answer. "Ally! Dez, Trish! Where are you guys?" He tries again, cupping his hands around his mouth for better projection, the only response he receives is his echo. He sits back down upon his bed and stares out the observation window.

What now?

Ally wakes to a small room, resembling the kind you'd see in a hospital—sans windows, however. Only one metal-plated double-door. She's strapped to a chair, the kind you'd likely be in at a dentist's visit, with some kind of helmet attached to her head. She's hooked up to quite a bit of machinery, actually, and she can't move herself to get free of any of them.

She whimpers, an itch forming behind her ear—but one she cannot scratch. She tries to ignore it by focusing her attention to the different monitors around the room. One seems to show different views of an MRI scan—is that her brain? The others seem to be monitoring her vitals.

She's further anxious when she doesn't she her friends around her. "Austin? Trish? Dez?" She whispers, worried that if she's too loud, she'll find herself in more trouble somehow. "Guys, where are you?" She tries, a little louder this time, her voice slightly breaking, and her heart pounding in her chest seemingly louder than her speech.

She tries to calm herself by imagining it all as just another doctor's visit. Perhaps her yearly physical—that's all. She closes her eyes and pretends it all away. The beeping on the EKG attached to her steadies.

Dez awakens to sweltering heat. The sheets beneath him, soaked with his sweat, he can feel them clinging to his bare skin. Sitting up in the bed, he finds himself attached to more than just the linens. Wires. All over him—taped to his skin with some kind of medical adhesive. He attempts to pull some of them off, but the pain that occurs when he does forces him to stop. It seems that any attempts to take this off on his own would result in him ripping off his own skin.

He studies his current environment, which resembles something that could best be described as a sauna, with steam shooting in from the corner vents of the room. The only difference is the large window, beyond which he could see several chairs in front of monitors. Perhaps his guesses weren't far off the mark at all. He's their lab rat.

But what about the others?

"Tri-Trish?" he whimpers, his voice weakening through his anxiety. "Austin? A-Ally?" he calls out, towards the vents, in hopes that they could hear him in the other rooms. The silence leaves him dreading the worst.

"Please…please be okay, guys" he begs, pulling his legs closer to his body and rocking himself on the balls of his feet. "Please."

Trish has been awake for a while now, much to the dismay of her captors. Every attempt to escape had gone awry, but she knew she'd worn out her guards. She may be able to get her chance soon enough.

They strap her back onto her bed, with her making doing so a struggle to them, as well. They'd given up completely on reattaching the various monitors to her, as they're sure her managing to escape her bonds and wrestle her way out of their grasps was a show of good health already.

She watches as they leave through the swooshing double-doors, a small grin of triumph on her face as she catches her breath. The escape attempt had managed to help her warm up in an otherwise freezing environment. Why they get they needed to crank up the AC so high, she didn't know, but she didn't plan on sticking around long enough to figure it out.

She worries, though, about her friends. She'd called out to them in this room, and as she ran down the halls, but got no response from any of them. Perhaps they really amped up the soundproofing? She tries to keep positive—something she'd learned from her friends.

Her friends. Her mood flies south again. She shifts a little in her seat to get more comfortable, but nothing she does can lift the heaviness pushing down on her shoulders.

They're all here, in this place, because of me.

If the undead, hostile mercenaries, and evil scientists couldn't get to her first, she's certain that her own guilt, devouring her piece by piece, will.

She lifts her drooping head, locking eyes with one man in a white lab coat beyond the glass window of her room, a man who'd been observing her the past hour or so. With her hands locked in place and the glass barrier between them, she can only convey her message through a look of contempt donned on her face.

She'll get out. She'll get them all out. She has to.

The man, giving her one last expressionless glance, leaves the observation room with his hands behind his back. She could've sworn she had seen his fingers twitch before he disappears through the door. Her smile finds its way back to her.

The fearsome foursome are now all lonely onesomes, oh dear. D:

It's been well over a year and this has been sitting among my docs, partially finished, for most of that time. Figured I'd finally finish this chapter. However, the story isn't over yet! If you're still following this story, bless your heart. I appreciate you. ️

—AJ