Security

Marcus woke up with a pounding headache, not entirely sure where he was. As he opened his eyes, all he could see was blinding white. White walls, white ceilings, white lights, white everything. It took him a moment to adjust, and as he did he started to see the silhouettes of people, all dressed in white clothing. Everything was so... sterile. Was he in a hospital? And if so, why?

Someone saw him sitting up, and a murmur shot through the people around him as they scurried away from his bed, eyeing him cautiously over their shoulders, as if he were some kind of dangerous outcast. He had no idea who any of the people even were, much less why they seemed to be afraid of him. They all seemed to be big and burly men, too, with tattoos poking out from under their purely white sleeves. If anyone should have been afraid of anyone, it was him of them. He had no idea where he was or why he was surrounded by these kinds of people, but it was quickly making him uncomfortable.

He tried to get up and ask someone where he was or what was happening, but his ankle was latched to the bed and he was unable to move. Even if he could, as he tried to move, the people closest to him took a step back, the fear now apparent in their eyes. Why were they so afraid of him? What had he done? What could he have done?

It wasn't long before another man came, dressed in white as all the others, though he had a much more professional look about him, what with his clipboard and glasses. He eyed Marcus studiously, who was sitting on his bed and looking back at the man, unsure of what to say.

"You seem confused, Marcus," the man finally said, not looking up from his clipboard. "Do you not recall last night? I know that we knocked you up with quite the dose, but I didn't think it would give you that much of a hangover."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're in prison, Marcus. The highest level security prison on the planet. It took us a while to get you in here. But the world can only stand so much of the origami killer."