God I hope there is cyanide in that syringe

You only have time for that one thought when the trigger is pulled and the syringe sinks into your shoulder like a sting from a two foot wasp. You fall onto the ground in pain and from the drugs flooding your bloodstream. It was not cyanide however, instead it is a drug that knocks you out and keeps you that way. The man quickly loads you into his van and he drives off, he sells you for six hundred bucks and he leaves counting his money. You are left in a underground lab where your pinial gland is surgically removed by skilled professionals, once done with that, they have Igor, the lab go-for drop your dying body into the dead pit with dozens and dozens of others, to be used as a germ lab later on.

The end