BIOMETRIC REPORT - 25##-08-04-09-05-25-1057

[BIOMETRIC REPORT - 25##-08-04-09-05-25-1057] [Project: "A day in the life"] ---------------------------------------------- So. This is my "journal" now. Which is apparently a written work describing one's life and experiences. I am not entirely sure why the coats have me doing this, but the same can be said about most things they make us do. Still, I got lucky today. It can get way worse than a writing exercise. I find this device quite fascinating, and it is a shame that I will part with it in just a few hours. But I have been given a task, and I shall complete it. We usually are woken up either by eachother, or by the first food buzzer ringing. Rarely do we wake up to testing immediately. I'm not sure what "hour" this happens at... Hell, I barely understand the concept. Though, I hear the coats talking about it all the time... Anyway, we wake up and soon it's time for our very first meal of the day. What they feed us is slightly varied, which wasn't the case just a few years ago. Still mostly just nutrient bars, though. They're really bland, but I can't complain... -------------------------------------------------- It's some hours later now. This is the time when the coats hunt. They call you out by the number, and you have to come to them. Or they come for you. You do not want that. Sometimes, they call out multiple numbers... It's usually a good sign, though. What they'll do to you is up to chance, really. The tests can be harmless, they can be terrible, or they can be beneficial. It's worth noting that the coats merely TRY to do things, and while sometimes they try to help, those attempts are usually far less successful than the ones where they try to mess you up. Two numbers are called, and two others stand up, their faces worried. One of them is healthy. Far more likely to get hurt. The other has four arms. One on the left, and three on the right. Well, if you could call the weird growths arms. They look kinda close? They were originally born with two. The coats decided that to be too much one day, and removed one. The next day, they came back with ELEVEN arms. The humans removed ten of those, only to grace them with seven new ones. The next day it was five. Today it's four. They are getting close now. The poor fellow is called Arms. And I swear, this was their name BEFORE this whole ordeal, and it's widely believed that humans picked them because of that. Perhaps it's their idea of a joke? [PAGE 1 OF 2]