Since apparently the last one was a thing, I'll post a prologue to another story I have written?

The screen flickered and turned on. The camera lit up and a face, bruised and scarred, appeared on the parallel screen. His eyes shifted about uneasily as he scanned the room, making sure that it was empty, and that the door was shut. His stare then returned to the camera. He adjusted it and began to speak in a low voice.
"Okay, they'll almost definitely exterminate me if this is found...” His eyes were a strange color, almost violet. They were bloodshot and tired, but also full of panic. “But it’s not like I have much left to lose." There was a slight trail of dried blood running from the corner of his mouth, and his lip was busted. “My name is Leon Cargly. Or, I guess, I’d probably be easier to find if you looked up the number 865-200-126 on the main Vesalius computer.” He again surveyed the room, brushing his matted black hair from his eyes. “I don’t have much time; the guard will be through here soon. Please. Send someone to help us. Send people to Vesalius Science Laboratories.” His voice was hoarse and weak. He coughed a low shallow cough. “We’re all going to be killed if something isn’t done.” He paused, again looking about. “They’ve got medicines and needles and they aren’t at all afraid to use them. Two from my group are dead already… I-”
There was a slight noise through the door behind him. He jolted and quickly typed 9-1-1 into the receiver box and gave one last pleading look into the camera before hitting “send.”

An email entitled ‘EMERGENCY’ with a video attached arrived in the police inbox at 2:00 A.M. that Thursday morning. The woman running the desk quickly flicked it open and pressed play. She was disturbed greatly by the video. “Mr. Evans, sir? You really should come and look at this.” The balding police chief hurried to her side and she relayed the video to him. The deputy walked up with him and viewed over from their shoulders. When it was over, the woman looked up at Evans. He hardly looked concerned. “What do I do, sir?”
“We can send some men down there, but this seems like a prank to me,” he said, swatting the air in front of him nonchalantly. “Vesalius is a highly respected laboratory. I seriously doubt anything like this could be more than a sick joke, don’t you agree, Vern?”
The Deputy nodded in a bored fashion, brushing crumbs from his moustache. “I’ll lead a squad down there now, sir.”
The woman called to dispatch immediately a search on the Vesalius Science building. Police, Vern in the reigns, were at the door within twenty minutes. The officers were less than enthusiastic to wake up at two in the morning to work a likely false alarm. However, upon arrival, no one would answer the door, which rose suspicion in the old Deputy. What reason did the respectable workers of Vesalius have to hide from the police? The door was bashed down, and into the dark halls the police tread, guns at the ready.
Immediately, they were met with the smells of antiseptic and something else, something wretched and nasty, something unidentifiable. Up and down corridors they walked, until they came upon a line of doors that were padlocked shut. They crushed the lock on one of the many doors and entered. It was a long, dark hallway. The first door they saw read TEST GROUP ONE. The wrenched the door open and the officers were almost sickened by what they saw. Men and women were in cages not unlike those at your common animal shelter. They all had collar-like devices around their necks, only slightly different than shock collars for dogs. They were all clad in tank-top shirts and long baggy black pants. Their shirts were all printed with a Vesalius logo and numbers in three digit sets. What was most disturbing amongst them, though, were their physical conditions. They all were pallid, dark-eyed, and thin beyond belief. Many of them were sickly, or injured with open bleeding wounds. Several were paralyzed, or were missing limbs, or were simply too weak to move. One area was a makeshift cage created from a dog kennel. Inside, it housed about twelve small children, all of which were highly undernourished and sick.
The captives’ eyes filled with hope as they saw the officers approaching. They knew they’d been saved. Almost instantly, all those that could talk were shouting, weeping, singing. Many of the officers fled the room and desperately called headquarters for backup. The deputy whipped out his radio. “Boss, we really need some help down here. It’s no joke. There’s really…” The deputy’s eyes grew wide. “Oh… My…” His terror only grew as he looked down the hallway. The room next to that one was TEST GROUP TWO. Next, TEST GROUP THREE. This hallway alone held around fifty doors.
As they searched on into the night, things that looked like huge mazes were discovered, and chambers that were in complete isolation. There was a room full of schizophrenics that sat trembling into corners, and a room full of people with eyes that couldn’t see. The strangest, maybe the most terrifying room that was found was full of people who were dead, except for one teenage boy who sat crying to himself underneath a blanket. The room itself smelled nauseatingly of chemicals. When the boy heard the police enter, he peered out, unashamed of the tears that dribbled off of his dirty cheeks. The moment he saw them, he broke down into heavier sobs, crying, “Thank you God… It worked…Thank you God…” This boy was immediately carried out, this boy numbered 865-200-126.
600 captives were found inside of the mammoth Vesalius building over the course of the next week.
80 of them were dead, or died soon after.
328 of them left with some sort of mental disorder.
553 of them were contaminated with diseases.
Nearly 460 scientists were tried and either arrested or sent to mental institutions.