His body ached—that wasn’t anything really different than how he usually felt in the mornings, especially after a long night of hunching over his computer screen, but he felt much groggier than usual.  He reached out his arms and heard them pop and crack and laid them back down, only to have them thump against a metal pole.

Rooke opened his eyes and blinked a few times. It was hard to see, but he could make out the sheets of his bed and the color of his clothes. He shot up and his hands scrambled over his clothes, the bedsheets, and the sore parts on his body—this wasn’t home, and these weren’t his roommates.  He sat silently, gaping as he took in his new surroundings.  

He turned his head to the source of a sudden, bright light and watched as a woman behind the glass boldly proclaim that everyone in this room was meant to leave their lives behind and join a cultish sounding organization.  Rooke almost burst out laughing at the absurdity at the situation, but the realization that he had no memory of how he got here made for pause.  Fear trickled down his veins. He glanced around the room--metal walls, a bolted door, and intimidating figures behind the glass. 

[color=FD5F00]“What the fuck…”[/color] He muttered with his face in his hands, before throwing off the covers and pivoting to sit on the side of his bed, [color=FD5F00]“No questions? Explanations? Just blind allegiance?  For the betterment of humanity? This is like the cut and copy speech of any fascist dictator. Does anyone realize how insane this is?”[/color]

Rooke realized he was sweating profusely, but didn’t move under the oppressive heat that swirled in the room.  He felt light headed, and dizzy, and wanted desperately to get to someplace with AC. Leaning back, he took some deep breathes and felt his head spin, before standing and approaching the people grouped at the front of the glass.  After a moment’s hesitation, [color=FD5F00]“Sure.  I’ll play along.” [/color]

[i]Just get me out of here.[/i]