InsaneJournal

Everything was, as far as he could tell for now, ready.  Archer had spent the last several hours arranging his makeshift laboratory within his apartment, and it had come across rather nicely.  The living room took the brunt of the lab, bordered on all walls with cheap tables that held shiny, expensive equipment.  There were two microscopes set up, a number of cardboard boxes containing clean beakers and flasks tucked beneath the tables, and a few metal tubs that were sealed up tightly.  On the far end of the room was a mini-fridge labeled "Not for Human Food Storage" on a piece of masking tape in black marker, which held god-knows-what.  Well, Archer knew, but he was much more tight-lipped than God.

Checking the large clock over the mini-fridge, Archer adjusted the lapel of his white laboratory coat and looked down at the three trays he had set out.  Three test subjects was a dismal number, and though it made his spirits sink, he reminded himself that he hadn't contacted everybody in Bellum Letale.  There would still be future subjects should he need them.  For the time being, he had to ensure that his three subjects remained as such instead of flaking out like that silly girl in #1007.

He sat down on a stool just inside his front door, inspecting the labels on each of his trays.  Each tray was labeled with a number to identify the subject.  #1202B would be 001, #906 would be 002, and #407 would be 003.  They had no way of identifying one another, and an unrelated person would not know which was which.  Each tray contained a sterile cotton swab and a sterile cap to slide it in, along with a vial of liquid for suspending the cells.  There were several other small vials in each as well, labeled with numbers and letters that only Archer would understand.

After fussing with his jacket yet again, Archer sat still and waited patiently for the first of his subjects to arrive.