The air was cool to the touch. And yet the smell was stale as if death was upon someone. Crow always hated this smell. He himself wasn't doing all so well either. Off towards the back of the cell he laid against the steel flooring. He was there long enough for the floor to warm up from his body temp. His body is pretty banged up. A few scrapes, nasty looking bruises and a few fractures. On top of that it's been roughly three hours since he has been fed. Staying conscious was beginning to be a difficult task. 

The reason behind his injuries had to with the sparring matches the whitecoats like to hold. Three to around five experiments are selected to face off a random number of erasers alone. Crow last night was up against five of this giant meatheads. He managed to knock three of them. But the other two more skilled. And were able to take a few deadly blows. Luckily before any of them decided to take a lethal move the whitecoats called the fight off. 

The end result: Crow failed. Which is no surprise. Sometimes he wins some. Sometimes he looses some. 

As Crow laid there he could hear the moans and groans of other experiments. A few were whimpering trying to hold back their tears. While others muttering to themselves. Or all in between. This part of the base is kinda acts like a surveillance ward. For those who are injured, have some health issues or need to be watched because of their state of mind. Unfortunately he can not tone anything out. Even stuffing cotton balls or his fingers wouldn't help him any. 

Crow forced himself into a sitting position. The plan was it was going to help him wake up some. Though the moment he relaxed his body it just flopped over to it's other side. Crow flinched when he landed on his bruised up arm. Gritting his teeth a little until the pain subsided. On the positive side his wounds were already healing. Though he wished the healing factor was faster than this. You see being a genetic freak comes with it's perks. A majority of the experiments are able to heal quicker than normal [i]humans[/i]. Each individual heals faster than others. Crow considers himself to be in the middle of the bracket. 

Suddenly Crow's ears heard a click of the doors down the hall unlatching. His body stiffened up going on the alert. "[color=BF94AB][i]Three sets of feet...[/i][/color]" He said quietly told himself trying to analyze the situation. He took a few whiffs of the air to figure out who coming down the hall. "[color=BF94AB][i]Two males... One female.[/i][/color]" Females always have a distinctive scent to them. Males smell... different... smellier. Even if this is the case everyone also has their own unique smell. This way he can recognize a person without actually seeing them. He knows one of the males. Dr. Freemen. Who is in-charge of this sector. The other two he doesn't recognize. Which is a cause for concern. 

[@Regitnui][@Styxx Acheron][@Metronome]