(No offense is meant to WolfGirlLover's version, I just wanted to try a bit of a slower burn and pick out a few different details.)
Four walls.
Four stark, white walls greeted me as I opened my eyes, the criss-crossing lines of the padding coming into focus. This had been my reality for God only knows how long. There was no night here, no windows, just the harsh fluorescent glow that never ceased.
They were breaking us down in subtle ways. Oh, they never hurt us, not that I ever witnessed. Not a mark on us, huddled in the cotton scrubs they'd given us to wear. Still, when we were returned to our cells we were utterly alone in this... endless monotony. As near as I could tell this used to be a mental hospital before the invasion. I had no way of knowing for certain, I was knocked out when they brought me here. Regardless it was the perfect place to leave us alone with our thoughts. Nothing but four white, padded walls and the clinical, antiseptic smell of the room, the passage of time impossible to discern.
The deprivation brought some things into stark contrast. They fed us well, the scents and taste of the food a bright splash in our routine. Even so, what they chose to feed us didn't escape me. The meals were heavy in meat, juicy and savory, and unless I was mistaken increasingly rare. It was hard not to relish it, this sudden bit of sensation provided to me, the taste of the nigh-bloody cuts they were serving us. There were no forks, no knives, no utensils at all lest we try to hurt ourselves or fashion a weapon against the guards. When mealtime came, I was inevitably grasping at it with my bare fingers, tearing it apart with my teeth... like an animal.
The only other bit of stimulation we were allowed were the group sessions. It was hard to anticipate them, and at times I had wondered if they were started at random. The sharp, metallic click of my cell door caught me by surprise every time, and I never knew if it was for a meal, or for... this.
The door swung inward, a faint creak on its hinges. Looming in its frame was the wiry, muscular frame of one of the guards. I hadn't seen a man since my capture, even amongst the guards, and while I could grasp that was likely intentional I couldn't exactly fathom why. They weren't overly concerned with our privacy or dignity, so what was the point? What I did know was that the Lycothans running the facility had started to seem intensely alive to me, the sharp, musky tang of their scent instantly discernible over the antiseptic smell of my cell. At first glance they could almost be human, but I was beginning to be palpably aware of the differences. This one leered down at me, the sides of her head shaved while an unruly tangle of black hair tumbled down, framing the left side of her face. A streak of silver curled against her angular cheekbone, denoting her station. Gold-flecked brown eyes focused on my tensed form before she spoke.
"Human 992014, come with me," her husky voice echoed in the room with just a hint of a snarl.
There had been times when I wanted to resist, times when I thought I might have a chance at slipping past. Were these just fantasies? How far could I even make it, barely knowing the layout of the facility beyond the way to the room our sessions were held in? Did I just want to defy them any way I could? Still, a part of me desperately wanted to go to the group session, as these were the only human contact I was allowed. I sighed, rubbing a hand on my short-cropped red hair, lost in thought.
"Come on," the guard said with a frustrated growl, "we've been over this."
It was true. She was one of the more frequent guards assigned to take me to the sessions. I was beginning to wonder if she was showing me sympathy, but surely that couldn't be true...