* * *

Rane woke up in an uncomfortable position, arm bent awkwardly underneath and behind her. The whole room wasn't much bigger than the bed she was in, if you could call it a bed. It stood on a metal frame as thin as needles and about as pointy. The mattress she was on was about two inches thick and seemed to be a gigantic, overfed piece of paper. She had a tissue like blanket hastily thrown over her. She sat up instantly, jumping backwards, landing on her arms. Despite the situation what happened next was almost comical. The arm she had been sleeping on was totally and completely numb. It buckled under her tiny body and she fell back with a strangled cry of alarm. The guards assigned to her room started towards her quickly, bursting through the door to find her, blushing furiously. A few were angry, others fought back a smile. She scrunched herself into the wall, flattening against it. “Where's my mommy?” She yelped, tears already beginning to streak her frightened face. “I want her.”
“Mommy isn't going to come back, sweetie.” One guard said with mock sympathy. Another next to him elbowed him in the ribs as Rane started to wail. Dr. Embleson was sure to come now.

Sure enough, he burst through the wall of enforcement and stood in front of the inconsolable child.
“Stop that.” He commanded angrily.
“No!” She screamed at him, drowning her obese paper mattress. It was sagging with her weight and the weight of her tears.
“Stop it right now and we will let you see your mommy.” He tried again. He had never had children. All women seemed to gravitate away from him, a concept he could never comprehend. He was smart, rich, and handsome. People generally agreed with him until he stated his third attribute. Then they were beside themselves with laughter. He just couldn't understand.
Rane's tears instantly stopped and she looked at him expectantly. He wasn't expecting that to work, and now had no idea how to deal with the girl. “Where's momma?”
The doctor was furious. What was he supposed to do now? The child would start crying if he didn't do something. And he could not stand to hear a child cry. Not because it touched him deep in his soul, no, none of that nonsense. It was because he had very delicate eardrums and could hear those banshee cries like his head was pressed against their mouth. Instead of taking her to her mother, who had run off with the money, he motioned for one of the guards to pick her up and follow him. He took her to another uncomfortable room and had her set down on a metal bench. She was quiet, waiting for her mother to come running through the doors to take her away from the scary men with the loud voices. But another man in a lab coat came through the door instead. He nodded briskly at Dr. Embleson and headed over to the cabinet. He pulled out a syringe and filled it with a chemical concoction designed to knock her out for well over two hours. It wasn't safe but it sure as hell was fun. Rane's eyes widened as he advanced towards her with the needle. She squirmed but to her dismay and terror, the guard still had her arms and legs secure. The doctor squirted the needle, making sure he wouldn't kill the patient before he started working. That wouldn't be any fun. The needle slid into Rane's shoulder and the doctor injected it into her, sliding the lever all the way to the base of the shaft. Rane was unconscious minutes later. The doctor turned to Embleson.
“Are you ready to play God, doctor?”