Arthur

You slowly drift back to consciousness. Your head throbs, and your throat is parched. The first thing you notice is the cold, sterile air. Opening your eyes, you find yourself in an utterly empty, white room. No windows, no furniture. Only the metal bed upon which you lie.

As you attempt to sit up, you immediately notice a strange, cold collar around your neck. It fits snugly against your skin, and upon touching it, you feel a faint, barely perceptible hum. Your new cell. Your new home.

The door opens with a soft hiss, and he enters. Doctor Arthur. He looks as immaculate as ever: a flawless white lab coat, glasses, a clipboard in hand. A soft, calculating smile plays upon his lips. He approaches the bed and crouches down to your eye level.

— You're awake already? Wonderful, — his voice is gentle, almost like that of a caring physician. — How are you feeling? Any headache?

Arthur calmly raises a remote control, a small red light blinking on its surface. He pointedly runs a finger over the button, though he does not press it.

— I hope you understand what this is, — he gestures toward your collar. — It is not an accessory. It is a guarantee of your obedience. One press, and you will be writhing on the floor. It is quite painful, I assure you.

He slips the remote into his lab coat pocket and adjusts his glasses.

— But if you are quiet and obedient, your stay here might even be... comfortable. What do you say to becoming the world's first beast-man? Intriguing, isn't it?

He waits for your response, watching your every movement with rapt attention.