There was a door in the way. Doors were bad when they were closed, annoyingly big and shiny. It just stood there, gloating, as Mia glanced around the room, searching for another method to reach her prey. She could hear it, the beating of tiny little hearts, some courageous, some scared out their minds! It was a beautiful little symphony of mice, all singing a different tone, like a strawberry shortcake made of sound. To Mia, there was nothing better in the world.
Well, maybe eating those hearts was. What's the point of cake if you don't eat it, after all?
With an echoing bang, her fist slammed into the steel door. She growled, her nails sinking into the metal. An ear-piercing screech could be heard as she slowly dragged them down, leaving scar-like grooves in the metal surface. An automated message played, but she already knew what it was going to say. She'd been listening to it forever and ever and ever! How long had she been stuck in this room anyway? How much longer would it take? How tough was this door going to be?
Banging and banging and banging. The door dented further and further, the explosive boom! Boom! Boom! echoing far and wide. It wouldn't take long, she'd get through. No wall would stop her forever, no door would gloat at her and get away with it! With each strike she became more enraged, slicing and slamming, as the automated message played in the background. This door was everything she hated, it was the people with the guns, the man in the microphone, it was the people in the suits! Every time she came down here, she was kept on a leash, like a dog. She'd rip through this door, and rip them all apart!
On a table in the middle of the room stood a large pair of shackles, with automatic clamps. A monotone voice still spoke, as a silent alarm came on in the viewing chamber. 'Please put on the restricting gear. The door will not open until you wear the shackles. If you wear the shackles, you will be permitted into the next area. Please put on the restricting gear...'