Chapter Text
"My name is Emile Picani. Thank you all for volunteering for this privately funded experiment. Science thrives off people like you who care enough..."
Janus tuned it out. As the first one to arrive, he'd heard the automatic message several times already. Of course, it was all bullshit; the cash prize would make the days he spent here definitely worth it if he won, and that was about the opposite of volunteering. Selflessness. Overrated at best, a trick of smoke and mirrors. Only the most foolish could really fall for that kind of moral trap.
Then again, who was he to talk about foolishness? He, along with everybody else in the room, was making an idiotic gamble. Speaking of everybody else, that were slowly trickling in now. They matched the walls in almost every manner- white, drab, and looking like they could all collapse if you looked at them hard enough.
Which made sense, really. What kind of people but the most idiotic of the desperate would come out to the middle of nowhere for a week, prompted only by a shady ad in the newspaper (with a ridiculous amount promised if you 'won', whatever that meant, and very ominous disclaimers). He doubted it was even legal, but that was a problem for another day. Besides, he thought, tracing the burns on his face, that had never stopped him before. That was why he was here in the first place.
"Hello! How're you doing?" Janus glanced up to see the most recent arrival standing in front of him, holding out his hand. A literal ray of sunshine wouldn't shine a brightly as this guy. It also wouldn't hurt Janus's head as much. The neon blue cardigan seemed designed by the fairy godmother herself, specifically to worsen his pounding headache. He had a smile plastered on his face, but the cracks were shining through like a scalp through a comb-over.
He realized he'd been staring. Curtly, he shook the man's hand. "Janus. I am as well as can be expected, given our..." He smirked, almost out of habit, gesturing at the room "extenuating circumstances."
"I'm Patton. You sound just like Logan over there!" Patton pointed to the far corner, where somebody- Logan, supposedly- dressed in a suit and tie had his head in his hands. It looked like he hadn't slept in days, and hadn't changed his clothes either. Who knew formal attire could look so pathetic? Janus was kind of offended to be compared to him, though he probably didn't look much better himself.
Ah yes, Patton was speaking again. "That's Virgil over there. He looks so young, right? The twins are Roman and Remus. I've introduced myself to all of them, you're all so nice!"
Janus stared at Patton, almost in awe. 'Nice' was about the last word that should be used to describe any of them. Logan's entire body was shaking, and it wouldn't be surprising if he died on the spot, with no preamble or warning. The twins were glaring at each other, both looking on the edge of violence. Indeed, there were dark and ugly bruises blossoming on the visible parts of both their chests, and the one in green smelled like he was wasted or deeply hungover. It was that bad from across the room.
Virgil seemed paralyzed, eyes darting between all of them in obvious distrust. His hoodie and makeup were straight out of Life on The Murder Scene.
Along with Patton's desperate cheerfulness and Janus's burns, the group greatly resembled some sort of group therapy session, minus the personal growth and achievement.
"Hello! Do you how do!" The disembodied voice from the speaker was suddenly coming from a man who had just popped in, relieving Janus of the need to carry on the painful conversation with Patton any longer. This had to be Picani. He was almost too put together, standing out sharply with a precariously balanced clipboard, beige suit, and glossy hair. He looked like what Janus imagined Logan might on a good day, if his suit was ironed and he got even an hour of sleep.
"Good! Very good, actually". One of the twins (Remus?) replied, an unnaturally wide grin stretching his face. Logan looked up for a second, like he was possessed, and muttered something inaudible before dropping his face into his hands again. Apparently, Virgil heard him. His face twisted in annoyance.
"Well? Really, dude? Is this the fucking time to correct people's grammer?" He looked at the doctor. "I'm doing pretty terribly right now. I think everybody here is. Can we just cut to the chase already?"
"Well," Picani checked his sheet "Virgil, if that's how you feel I'm happy to speed things along! I just wanted to see if we could all get to know each other!". Janus was shocked the doctor didn't turn to stone on the spot with the look the emo was giving him.
Janus sighed and stood up. "I agree with Virgil. This is a waste of time. If really necessary, here you go: my name is Janus Eden. I work at a... Veterinary clinic, you could say. Is that all that is required for now?"
Picani somehow remained unfazed through all of this. "If that's all you want to share, it's perfectly fine! Anyone else?" He glanced around expectantly, pen poised above paper.
"Patton Hare. I'm a counselor at a few of my local schools. I just love helping kids!" Nobody pointed out that Patton's expression turned even more forced, or that he seemed on the verge of tears with those words. Nobody had the heart to.
"Logan Eastgate. I-" The man's breath hitched, and his fists clenched. "I am recently unemployed." He opened his mouth as if to continue, but seemed to change his mind.
There was a mutter from the corner. "My name is Virgil. I'm majoring in Statistics." That would explain his fashion- Virgil was considerably younger than the rest there. The only one who hadn't spoken yet was the twin in red, but his brother seemed happy to share for them both.
"I'm Remus Sanders, and this is my brother, Roman! Technically he's a writer and I'm a painter, but I think everybody knows where we REALLY get our money from!" In fact, nobody there especially wanted to think about what either of them did, or what the excessively suggestive wink Remus gave meant. Roman gave a half-hearted glare, rolling his eyes.
Picani had been jotting down notes on his clipboard. "Thanks, you all!" He chirped, clicking his pen shut. "Now, if you could just follow me, we'll start with the preliminary procedures".
Janus didn't trust anything about this.
Then again, he didn't really have a choice.
The group stood up slowly, and assembled into a messy sort of line trailing after the doctor. Janus ended up next to Remus, who took a break from sneering at the abstract art on the cracked walls of the hallway to glance at Janus.
"So, you're a vet, huh? Worked with any... Exotic animals?"
The burned man ran his eyes over Remus. He didn't seem too drunk, but his eyes were bloodshot and he kept squinting though the dim light. Hungover, then. Was it really worth it to tell him the truth?
Janus almost scoffed at himself. Years of lying, and he wanted to open up to the first alcoholic buffoon that winked at him? Fat chance.
"I have worked with some rarer species, but my specialty is snakes. Corn, hognose, ball pythons, the like." Anacondas, others that could terrify an adult in a second and kill them faster. Maybe Remus would enjoy that information? To be honest, he probably would, but that seemed like it had more to do with his general nature than any specific interest in snakes.
"Cool! I'm a drug dealer!" Janus almost choked- on laughter or a sob, he didn't know. Did Remus actually just say that? Was he still drunk? No, the twin was walking in a perfectly straight line. Perhaps he was just overly trusting, or being an idiot came naturally to him even without intoxication.
"You're rather... Open about it, then. Is that the reason for your colorful adornments?" Janus nodded towards the still-visible bruises on Remus's torso. It really was impressive, the colors they managed to reach.
Remus glanced down in surprise, then looked up again with a too-wide grin. The sides of his cheeks looked painfully stretched, but the man's eyes still sparkled. "No, me and the other sperm-half got into a fight! He didn't want me to keep doing something, but it was just so easy. I mean, the dude-
"Alright, idiot, that's enough. How much have you said already, half-wit?" Roman finally caught up to them, getting out of a conversation with Patton. "Were you really going to tell him about that?" The twin in red looked at Janus. "Sorry about him. He has less of a filter than Anne Boleyn being cheated on sometimes." Remus wrinkled his nose at that, but didn't respond or refute it.
"It's quite all right, Roman. I do enjoy some conversation, to distract from our rather unfortunate circumstances. You may want to remind him to be less open about your profession in the future."
Roman showed the first signs of a smile, or really anything besides a grimace, since arriving. "I've tried, believe me. I'm just glad I got here soon enough." 'Here' was quickly turning out to be an extremely underwhelming room, with six hospital beds and shots. They were all color coded.
"It was nice talking to you. I hope we can speak again, if these experiments don't put us both six feet under."
Roman gave him a long, searching, look.
"Yeah, that sounds fine." With that, they were all whisked off to a bed of their own. Janus had hardly any time to process the bright yellow sheets and matress, as well as the cursive letter D stitched onto it, before he felt a prick in his neck and everything went dark.