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(I’m putting in Jayce. His bio is on the docs, but here’s a link to his basic bio as well: https://www.notebook.ai/plan/characters/840875 )

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Warning: Strong violence and blood.

Voices… several of them… nearby. Jayce Ryker slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the bright lights that shown from various angles onto his prostrate form. He could just barely make out the white ceiling beyond the brilliant beams. he lay perfectly still as he tried to make sense of the jumbled information in his slowly clearing mind.

Where was he? What was going on? Where the heck were his clothes?? He suddenly became aware that he was in his boxers with no protection against the cold sterile atmosphere of the room.

Last he remembered, he had been… running… yes, running from… officers, who else. He had ducked into an alley and into the shadows. Someone had spoken his name and… that was the last thing he remembered.

And now he was, he turned his head just a little, in some sort of operating room. Low voices approached and the masked face loomed over him. Jayce’s blood ran cold as the very sharp point of a needle descended towards his bare chest.

In a flash, his hand shot up, grabbing the figure’s gloved hand. For a moment, it was as if time froze. With a muffled yell, pandemonium broke loose as masked figures dressed in long white lab coats rushed towards the small hospital bed.

Jayce yanked the one with the needle forward, lashing back with his elbow as it slammed into the man’s jaw. He attempted to swing his other hand and found it securely handcuffed to the handrail. Instead, he extended, the back of his fist sprawling the doctor onto the sleek white floor.

Blocking a second needle swing with his bare foot, he wrapped his legs around the figure’s outstretched arm, pulling him into a downward swipe of his heel. Jayce turned over just in time to launch himself into the air for a split second, a desperate needle swipe passing narrowly underneath him.

He fell back onto the firm bed, quickly sliding over the edge. He cringed as his bare feet hit the cold floor. A movement behind him, caused him to spin, kicking one of the operation lamps back into the oncoming figure. Before he could react, a foot lashed out, kicking the bed forward and causing Jayce to lose his balance.

He fell to his knees, a searing pain shooting through him as something hit him hard. Gasping for breath, he tried to rise but a fist slammed into his jaw and sent him staggering into the wall. The boy’s head was slammed into the wall again and again as the fists continued to beat him senseless. Blood streamed down his face as he managed to duck a poorly timed blow and grab a pair of surgical scissors from a nearby cart.  Spatters of blood and sweat clouded his vision as he lashed out at his attacker. Ripping fabric followed by a scream of pain attested to their accuracy as he plunged them deep into the man’s side.

Having a moment to spare, Jayce turned his attention to the handcuffs that bound him to the small cart they called a bed. He placed his foot against the plastic railing and, placing all of his weight onto the hard plastic, snapped the railing with a loud crack. More movement, Jayce dodged a kick and slammed the edge of his newly acquired weapon into the doctor’s stomach, followed by a swift downward blow to his head.

Jayce grit his teeth in pain as the razor-sharp blade of a scalpel grazed his arm. A quick jab to the forearm and the scalpel clattered to the floor as Jayce rammed the jagged corner of the piece of railing into the coated figure’s throat, using his free palm to hammer the railing deeper until he finally let go, allowing both the railing and the body to fall to the floor.

A growl came from his right just as something barreled him, hurdling him towards a large mirror that Jayce was positive was two way. At the last second, he launched himself into the air, planting his feet against the glass. With the nimbleness of a cat, Jayce ran up the glass, vaulting himself over his assailant and sent him crashing into the already damaged glass. With a sickening crack, the glass shattered, revealing a second smaller room that appeared to be some sort of observation area with chairs situated towards the mirror.

Without warning, the prostrate figure grabbed a handful of the broken glass, taking no notice as the shredded his hand and hurled them at Jayce. The shards nicked and sliced his unprotected body as tiny streams of blood ran down his chest and arms.

Jayce barely felt it as one more figure crashed into him, both of them hitting the floor, the masked doctor landing on top of him, his eyes glimmering with pure hatred as he inched the wicked point of a Liston knife closer and closer towards Jayce’s chest as the boy’s resistance began to falter. With a final thrust, Jayce writhed to the side as the knife scrapped the floor. His foot hooked his attacker’s as he twisted around, rolling the coated figure over so that Jayce was now on top. With a vicious strike, the man’s wrist snapped, releasing its hold on the weapon a cry of agony resounded from his throat but was quickly silenced by the Liston knife in his heart.

An arm closed around Jayce’s throat but, with a lunge, the boy’s hand closed around the cold metal handle of a Cephalotribe. Hissing in rage and desperation, Jayce turned, burying the forked instrument into the man’s neck. With a final jerk, his lifeless body fell backward to the floor.

Jayce Ryker slowly sank to his knees, his bloodied and bruised body shaking from the adrenaline and probably the beginning of a panic attack. His chest constricted as he heard voices approach. He tried to rise, but his head pounded him into submission as his vision clouded. The last thing he saw before he succumbed to the grip of unconsciousness was a tall young man in bright red armor…