(Jack's POV)

     When I start to wake up, my head feels like it's on fire. Correction, my brain is going through a blender. It takes me a few seconds to figure out where the hell I am. I've been staying at Mark's house for the last few days while I'm visiting, and he set me up in the guest bedroom.
     The room spins when I sit up with a groan. How late were we out last night? I'm still wearing the same clothes, so that's a good sign. Midday sunlight is shining through the window and into the room.
      There's a small stinging sensation in my arms, and I look down to see something definitely not normal. Small puncture wounds and cuts are all over my arms. It's like the blood drive people got a little too trigger happy with their needle.
     I shiver, standing up to go find Mark. My head gives another stab of pain when I do. I still manage to stumble my way down the hall and to Mark's room. The door is already open, revealing my friend lying facedown on the bed. He's still out cold.
     My gaze drifts down to see that his arms also have the same cuts and holes.  This is bad. What happed last night?

(Unknown POV)

     I wake up in an extremely uncomfortable position. My head is still foggy as I try to shift around, chains rattling as I do. My eyes sting when I try to open them. The light's too bright! I scrunch up my face against the pain. Where even am I? All I remember is...... I remember nothing.
Opening up my eyes to slits, I can just barely see that most of the light is coming from behind me. I tune just enough to get a bright face full of a pink glow. It burns my eyes so bad that I jerk away.
My face is wet now. I bring my shackled hands to wipe away the liquid. I think it's coming from my eyes? It's sticky, with a metallic smell. Is this blood? My hands are chained together with about a foot of length, and my ankles are chained to the wall. I'm sitting up against the concrete wall. Could I be underground?
I open my eyes again to see that the pink glow is fading. It dims so much that I risk another glance behind me. Long, pink limbs extend from my back, looking incredibly fragile. The pink glow my 'wings' give off slowly fades until they're gone. There's no hole in the back of my shirt or anything. It's like they're made of light. Too bad that light makes me cry blood. I see perfectly well in the dark.
Footsteps bring me out of my thoughts. I look up to see it slowly getting brighter on one side of the room. I can just make out cell bars before a lantern swings around the corner. I hiss, trying to shield my eyes.
"It's awake", a voice speaks up, but not to me. Even with my eyes closed, the light burns when it's shined on me. "And apparently it has light sensitivity. It's crying blood", the same voice speaks again, "write that down under subject Dark's notes". I hear someone else scribbling on paper as the light is shined away from me. Fuck, that really hurts.
I mange to crack open my eyes to see what's going on. Two men stand on the other side of the bars, one holding the burning light, the other with a clipboard. I follow their gazes to see something else on the other side of my cell. They're similarly chained up, but it's definitely another person. They have pale skin, green hair hanging in front of their eyes. Green, scaled wings have torn through holes in his shirt. I don't see him breathing from here.
     "Well, it's not deteriorating yet, but I doubt it will last much longer long. Mark subject Anti as terminated", the taller man says. I can just make out one of the disgustingly classic lab coats. The pair soon walk away, leaving me in blissful darkness.
What do they mean by terminated? Will they not do anything for him? He's dying. The thought strangely doesn't give me any distress. It's like the emotion is wading through jello. But looking at him, some part of me doesn't agree with letting him die. But what can I do?
I squint at the green haired figure, trying to make out his face. My surroundings seem to blur and change around me as I concentrate. But the darkness remains. In fact, it surrounds me like an inky flame.
I'm not in the lab anymore. I still feel the chains dragging me down, but I'm standing in a patch of grass. It looks like I'm in a forest? How did I even get here? A small cabin is about a hundred feet from me, and I stand in a small clearing near a dirt road.
It takes me some time to notice the man laying face up in the grass. I immediately recognize him as the green haired prisoner. But he looks so much healthier. No wings sprout of his back, either. His sudden shuttering breath makes me jump.
The man sounds like he can't breath well, seemingly unconscious. Could I be in his head? Is this a memory? Why does he remember something when I can't?
Cautiously, I move forward to try and wake him up.