An exam room filled with high-tech medical gadgetry. At the center – an open, coffin sized acrylic box. It’s filled with a clear liquid.
A young man is escorted in, wearing only a paper-thin medical gown. He looks at his surroundings – an environment so completely foreign to him – and panics.
He breaks for the door but doesn’t get very far. A baton to the knee, another to the rib cage and he’s spread eagle on the floor. An injection of a neon blue solution to the base of his neck finishes him off for good.
The boy never stood a chance.
The Weekday One Hundred 