The man felt a euphoria mixed with crisp mountain air and the smell of pine trees. The smell of wet earth. The smell of deer, its fear. Flashes of jaws sinking into raw flesh, of blood dribbling down.<br/><br/>The only thing that didn't come in flashes was the moon. The moon was always there, a giant moon that was always full, and tinged with a bit of purple. Sometimes, there was a second, smaller moon beside it.<br/><br/>Suddenly, he was lying down and there was a bright light flashing over him. He could see it from the red hue over his closed eyelids. Was this another flash of visions?<br/><br/>No. He felt fingers curling, his own fingers. He gave an involuntary gasp as his eyes flew wide open and he sat up straight on the bed, as if woken from a nightmare. He turned his face to look around the room, resting on nothing for very long, only whipping his head around and around. His lip curled into a snarl and he gave a low growl, but only for a second. He immediately felt out of place. Out of place in his body. Out of place in the room. Out of place among the people he had just seen.<br/><br/>And there was the robot. This meant the oddly familiar feeling of being inside his body made sense. He had acted too animalistic, had believed the things in his dreams to be more real than they were.<br/><br/>He listened as the robot spoke, watched the others for their reactions. He didn't ask the robot anything, but grabbed the papers that were by his bed, just as he saw the others do. His eyes scanned over insignificant details, resting on the only things his mind seemed to think mattered.<br/><br/>His name was Daniel Cotto. He was 22 years old, and his birthday was on the 14th of February. He felt a prickling discomfort that went beyond the birthdate being on a holiday. He suspected he'd never know the source of the feeling. Their memories had been wiped, after all. If he had been listening correctly.<br/><br/>Daniel took a look at the picture provided of him. He had red hair, messy on top but shaved on the sides. It felt longer now as he ran his hands through it. He rested his gaze on the well-trimmed beard, the dark eyes, the lean jawline. He put a hand to his face and wondered who he could have been.<br/><br/>His heart rate slowed down. Every now and then he'd flare his nostrils, but he felt he was getting used to be being awake again. He grabbed the clipboard and walked to a corner of the room, ignoring everyone. He didn't feel comfortable being in the midst of them all, he needed to have a clear view of everyone, including the robot.<br/><br/>His hands were bending the clipboard. He felt it was about to snap.<br/><br/>"Could I have some paper?" Daniel asked, raising his hand and putting it down immediately from feeling awkward. Most things still felt awkward. He felt detached from himself. "I think that would help me... I just need something to rip up."