"Good evening," the gray figure whispers to me, and I realize it is night, the dark sky covered with a gray shroud of clouds. I also realize neither my two "handlers" nor the creature crouching above me are surprised or shocked to see me awake. They know I’m not dead, and the implications break over me like a wave. If they knew I was alive the whole time, then I haven’t been taken for disposal like some kind of rubbish off the streets but for some other purpose. The ghoul’s comment about "fresh meat" comes to mind and I shudder again and try to move. My limbs jerk spasmodically this time, causing the creature to stop smiling and back away a bit, even as he waves the two handlers in closer.