Join Sara in her search.

You nod, reluctantly, and follow Sara, with an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You pass long rows of blue tanks, and you **** yourself not to stare at the women. Some of them, you notice, are moving slightly. Others seem completely immobile. Your steps sound way too loud, your even hear your own breathing.

There's a dread inside you, building up, telling you that you this was a very, very bad idea.

Sara turns a corner and walks straight to a door. You follow. A corridor leads to an office room, and Sara immediatly starts rummaging through a shelf of folders and files. You stare at the black computer screens, and can't really decide to move. "Run! Run!", screams a voice inside you.

"Look!", Sara shouts suddenly. "Look, look, here! It's all here! These are... receipts of sorts. Invoices. From... from men... ordering these... they call them 'dolls'. And here, there's a form where somebody..." She stops and frowns.

"Oh my god", she says.

"What?"

"Come here, read this."

You take two steps into Sara's direction, as the door opens. Both of you let out surprised shrieks. The men in the doorway don't seem surprised at all, though. They are clad in black uniforms and move like soldiers.

"Just as I thought", says one of them, and orders: "Take them!" You stare at the men, you want to scream or start arguing or to explain yourself, but you know that it's hopeless. You know that you don't belong here, and that these men know that very well.

Firm hands grab you, bend your arms backwards and immobilize them. Someone puts a bag over your head. You hear Sara's muffled shriek.

"Put them in the tanks", you hear a voice.

That's when you start to scream and sturggle. But it's already too late.