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The car drove through the empty streets, void of any humans, and it finally went into a dark forest, somehow more empty than the streets of the city. The night was cold and dark, a representation of how Mr. Mead felt. “Why am I being sent here, when all I did was take a nightly stroll?”. “You’re not like the others, you’re a potential threat to everyone around. We cannot risk others catching your regressive habit.”.
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Soon, the car arrived at the Psychiatric Centre. As Mr. Leonard Mead walked through the dark woods, full of nothing but trees and bushes, to the facility, which was null and void of all emotion. He saw only few security guards, all serious and highly trained, their guard up even at the littlest noise. He walked to the facility quietly, null and void of emotion, all except confusion and anger.
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As he walked through the almost empty halls, only made up of few patients and guards, his confusion and frustration only grew, reaching impossible heights. The halls were dimly lit, the lights looked as if they were on the verge of blowing out, the lights flickering constantly. He couldn’t help but overhear two people, who he assumed were higher-ups who made important decisions, make demands about Leonard Mead’s death. “Mead needs to die! His brain is too recessive!”. He immediately panicked, wondering if he should attempt to escape, knowing this task was impossible.
He needs to die! He's too recessive

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