He like so many others, he discovered, were ambushed. Or so he assumed given they were all tied firmly down and each looked as disorientated and emotional as the other. He could hardly remember the ambush. He was already having a bad day-by general standards and definition-ready to sleep off the stress of school on his couch and as he dozed, random people had invaded his home, pushing pass his parents for him to be...special? Had he heard that right?
The doctor moved down the line imprinting the other young strangers with a ID number, causing each to scream in pain and Josh shook his head rapidly, already tensing and straining for what was about to happen to him. "No. No. Please. No." He was cut off from his hopeless pleas as the rod made contact with his skin, burning into his arm causing his own scream in pain to be released through his gritted teeth. His fingers curled and flexed and he stirred in his seat, longing to tend to the burn with a burst of cool water or at least the other hand.
As the burn and sting continued, his head eventually slumped against the chair staring at his number on the verge of crying. "Joshua Frankston, you are now #09783" For how long was he a number and prisoner? Based on her burning it into each one of them, he knew the answer inside. For a terribly long time. And this was only the beginning of a tragic story as the Doctor was ready to move on.