"Aini, who's that?"

"Some girl - real name's Virginia Hilton according to the records. We've got her up in 26."

I furrowed my brow. It was unusual to get new intake this time of year. Most of the collectors were on break and the researchers would be in the midst of the long-term projects.

"Mind if I take a look at her?"

"Sure thing, nobody else has put in a claim yet."

"Thanks."

I stepped away from the clerk, nodding my head in gratitude. My leather shoes made a respectful pattering noise on the white tile floor as I walked down the main hall.

"Room 26, huh..."

Truth was, I had my own projects I needed to attend to — Some kids we'd gotten from Thailand and an old heroin junkie. They had each started promising — the kids especially gave some interesting initial results — but I felt the monotony setting in with those repeated procedures. I needed a diversion.

Being a Saturday the place was relatively empty. I heard a few patients in their rooms, and I passed Dr. Heim on the way to my destination. We gave each other a wave of acknowledgement, but exchanged no words. He was a busy man, Dr. Heim, and the bags under his eyes gave visual testament to that fact. His research was top-notch though, and he had a long and well-renowned career. Most of his colleages, myself included, treated him with a reverent wariness. You definitely did not want to get on his bad side. After all, they never did find Dr. Fischer.

My thoughts were interrupted as I came to the end of the hallway. Room 26 sat to my left, behind a standard patient door with a light wood finish. A clipboard with several papers had been affixed to the front — presumably the patient's information. I grabbed it and pushed the door open.

"Hello, Ms. Hilton?"

A young woman lay in the medical bed before me. The drugs must have already worn off, as she was in restraints. Her blonde hair was disheveled and tears stained her light brown eyes. For a moment I worried that another doctor had gotten to her before me, but on closer inspection her body appeared untouched. With proximity I also noticed that the roots of her hair were brown. She lay there, staring up at me like a rabbit staring at the fox about to eat it.

"My name is Dr. Stanley, I'll be your primary physician for your stay here, alright?"

No response. I glanced down at the clipboard of notes and continued.

"It says here you worked at Google as a 'Digital Content Specialist'?"

Still no response.

"I see you also have a lot of artistic interests. Fashion, drawing, writing... that's an impressive array of skills."

I looked up from the notes to gauge her reaction. Still nothing though — she must've been in some sort of shock.

"Let's see, you're from Germany, living in LA... age unknown. Do you mind telling me?"

Apparently she did. I just wrote "Late 20's/Early 30's" in the box.

"Well, Ms. Hilton. I suppose if you don't have any questions for me we can just get started. What was that?"

The girl had started making noises in response to my last statement. Her voice was weak and raspy, but eventually she managed some words out:

"W-where... am I?"

"Ah, well," I smiled ruefully, "I'm afraid I can't give you a specific location for security reasons — you know how it is. Suffice it to say you're in safe hands here."

I stepped over to the desk of supplies and put on a pair of latex gloves.

"Now, there's a procedure I've been meaning to get some practice in, and I was hoping you'd be willing to help me. Where I'm from it goes by the name of Female Circumcision — have you heard of it?"

Her eyes opened even wider than before as I approached with a scalpel. Now the screams came — shrill, high-pitched, beautifully terrified. I lifted up the skirt of her hospital gown and began making the first incision.