<span style="font-family: times new roman;">Subject number 2845 was tense as he caught sight of the girl with fiery hair. His eyes shifted nervously from side to side. Scanning the hallway for anybody who might attempt to stop them. Soon enough, his eyes landed back on the female and he grimaced. Who was she? He rather disliked strangers. Was she a subject like him? If so, why did he not recognize her? 2845 never forgot a face. Never forgot a name. Never forgot a fact. She would have been no different. He opened his mouth to say something to the professor, but the man gently pushed him back and stepped in front of him. Blocking his view of the girl.<br/><br/><span style="color: #404000">"Helen, come with me."</span> Spoke the older man. His voice gentle and deep like a Cello's. 2845 furrowed his brow. Helen? Was that a name? Had the professor named her? His eyes glanced down at the inky numbers marring his skin. He felt an inkling of envy bubble up into his chest.<br/><br/><span style="color: #BF0040"><span style="font-style: italic">"What are you doing here? If they see us together...it will be bad for sure. They think of me as a ticking time bomb."</span></span> The boy heard the girl's quiet warning. The professor released a deep sigh. Regretful and fatigued. He ran a hand through his graying strands.<br/><br/><span style="color: #404000">"Please. . . I have come to take you away."</span> He assured her. His grey blue eyes full of sincerity. <span style="color: #404000">"Just come with me. Quickly."</span></span>