It's dark and it's cold. You're lying on a cot--one of many crammed in the tiny room, all of them occupied by men in hospital gowns, asleep. Or dead. The only light comes from a small window in the door across the room. Your toolbox is on the floor next to you. CLANG. It's coming from the hallway outside. CLANG. Someone beating on the wall. Closer. CLANG. "Heeeere, boy!" CLANG. "Who's gonna be my good lil' boy tonight?" Shadows near the window. CLANG! You sit up and catch the wide-eyes of an old man in the cot next to yours. He motions for you to lie down. "The burning men won't choose you if you're asleep like a good boy." CLANG. He shuts his eyes. "Please don't scream, mister. They like it when it you scream."