Another shrug and another gulp, this time for the memory of it as he replied quietly, "I got lucky. Really lucky. Someone took the time to blow the lab to hell."
Doug looked at her, grinning because the other option was to start crying and he didn't want to do that. Not over what the flatliners had done and not in front of a girl so obviously strong, "It wasn't seven floors underground. I'm not sure how deep it went, but I'm pretty sure most of it was above ground, posing as some valid research facility or something. I was on the first floor because I wasn't considered a threat."
The last was said bitterly. It'd taken regular, everyday turn-key locks to keep him contained. Low threat was an understatement he'd make them bleed for.
"But someone came through a couple months back and set off a bunch of bombs, freeing pretty much everyone in there. I have no idea who, I never saw them. Most of the others were rounded back up, I think. I know a lot were being re-captured within hours. I saw a couple be taken by force while I was running. They put up a really good fight that bought me enough time to hide. My mutation is pretty low key so I've managed to keep off the radar really easily and convincing a bunch of older couples to help a kid out is so much easier when you can speak their mother tongues and convince them you're from an immigrant family."
He kept walking, waiting for the 'did they experiment on you' question. It was bound to come up, right? He just didn't know how much of that he wanted to give away. He could show WARLoCK but he didn't have to explain what it did - besides the occasional feedback headache and increased rate of food consumption.
Eating. Need to eat. Not food consumption. Eating.