“What are these voices? Where are they coming from?” Milo asked as he realized he was sitting in a long hallway, dim fluorescent lights flickering and reflecting off of the windows that lined the hall. Milo stood and tried to peer outside, but there was nothing but a clouding, swirling darkness. A loud crash caught Milo’s attention at the far end of the hall, where a set of swinging doors opened. A baby lay wailing on an examination table while a man wearing a white coat and surgical mask examined its limbs. Milo figured this man was a doctor. The baby appeared to be in shock, its arm and leg marred and bloody. The doctor struggled to wrap bandages around the flailing infant as two large security officers armed with pistols stood nearby, holding back a man dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. His hair was long and messy, his face wrinkled and twisted in anger, his eyes red and sagging from what looked to be a mix of disconsolation and insomnia.
“No! You can’t take him away! Not after all of my work!” the restrained man screamed wildly, tears flowing freely down his face.
“Get him out of here!” the doctor commanded.
“What is this?” Milo cried, though no one responded.
As the guards were about to escort the man away, the baby’s wailing escalated to a piercing level. The doctor doubled over in pain before collapsing over an instrument tray. The baby’s wails forced everyone to the ground before they ceased, and a still silence emanated.
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