A woman, tear stained and frantic, ran to the front doors of Lab 5. The building was desolate and dark, completely cut off from civilization. The woman had heard rumors of the lab accepted young, parentless infants. She knew that her newborn daughter wasn't technically parentless, but she couldn't bear to have it anymore. She could never give it a good life, and every time she looked at it, she remembered how it was conceived.

She had tried to get rid of it herself, but they poor baby was the one who won that battle. She couldn't bring herself to kill a child. Especially since she knew it was her own child. The best she could do for it was take it somewhere safe and warm, but never an orphanage or anyone else.

Somehow the tiny, cherubic face of the child had made it impossible to wish harm on the small girl. Looking at her face…looking at the resemblance that she had to the father…made it impossible for her to keep the baby.

Was this really a lab? It looked like an old, run down shack in the middle of Seattle, harshly beaten by time. What types of…anything…could they do there? The woman looked down to her cell phone again. This was definitely the address, and now that she looked closer, she could see some expensive elements to the building.

The lab did not look inviting, but it was her only option. She had to get rid of the baby, fast. The doctors would take care of the child's health and education, as well as raise her up to be a beautiful young woman. Maybe she could even come see the child some day.

It would pain her to see his face in the girl's but, after all, it was her daughter. She would simply have to endure. The sun beat down on the bustling street of Seattle, but the woman could hear any of the noise. She could only hear the soft, delicate breathing of her newborn child. She felt a sharp pain in her side as she thought of leaving it behind at the lab.

It was impossible for her to keep it though. She would always hate it. She would always loathe the child only because of her appearance. Her eyes looked just like his, wide and inviting. Her face was shaped like his, long and beautiful. The girl would grow up to look just like her father. She would be beautiful, inviting, friendly, and overall deceiving. Somehow, the woman already hated her.

She scurried up to the front door of the lab, her bundle of cloth and child sprawled across her arms. The woman took a deep breath and stared at the large, brown door. It looked extremely expensive, but extremely cold. The thought of living there gave her a chill. But her daughter would be happy. She just knew that she would.

The woman knocked a few times, gently at first, but she finally gained confidence. She squinted in the sunlight, and rapped on the door louder than before. There was shuffling from inside the small, worn building, and finally the door opened by a couple inch margin.

"Hello?" said a large voice from behind the door.

The woman couldn't see much inside the door, but she felt a cool breeze rush out of the lab. It was air conditioned, and it was well air conditioned. The fresh, crispness of the air felt wonderful on her skin, and even the child squealed in delight. The building seemed to be glowing white from inside, as if everything were clean, spotless, and bland. It was completely contradictory to its outward appearance.

"Yes, hello," said the woman, subconsciously changing her voice to sound more formal. "I…I was here to…I'm here about my child," she stuttered. The door slammed shut and the woman lowered her head in despair. How was she going to rid herself of the girl now?

A few clink noises resounded from the door, and a man in a white top and long black slacks opened the door. He smiled radiantly and ushered the woman in. She thanked him heartily, and stood at the entryway, relishing in the cool air a few moments longer. He chuckled quietly and inspected her thoroughly.

"I'm Roger Smith, by the way," he said, shaking her hand.

She had messy, dirt blonde hair, and the eyes of a terrified young woman. He had no clue what she'd been through, but he knew it had been bad. What he was most interested in though, was the infant in her arms, completely untouched. It was a perfect candidate for the human advancement tests he needed to complete.

The woman looked at him in curiosity, her tattered face frantic. Obviously the woman needed someone to take the child, and she was desperate. The man did his best to conceal his disgust at her facade. She was poor, and there was no way of mistaking it. She had most likely gone out and gotten pregnant with some random man, and now had to cover up the crime.

Not that it mattered. The child didn't have to have an eccentric background, and he almost preferred it didn't. A background meant that it had roots, and he didn't want a person with roots, he wanted a blank slate. A completely clean test subject.

"Are you able to take my baby?" she asked quietly.

She felt terribly out of place in the flawlessly clean room of the lab. Only a few scattered- white- sofas littered the bright room. The towering man before her seemed oblivious to her. His eyes were set on her child. His clothes were spotless; his face was spotless.

"Yes, of course. What gender is it?" he asked.

"She's a girl." The man nodded. "What exactly are you going to do to her?" the woman asked. Roger stared at the small girl in interest. What was he going to do to her. There were a number of experiments he needed to perform, and he had no idea which he would apply to her.

"Well, the only thing I can tell you for sure is that her eyes will be our prime interest," he explained slowly, trying not to use too complex words. She might not understand him if he was too thorough.

"I only have one more request, Mr. Smith," she said. Roger nodded, itching to get his hands on the girl. She would be a wonderful addition to his growing collection of infants, all with a set purpose.

"She already has a name, and I want her to keep it." Roger looked up at the woman's eyes finally, and saw the new determination. She was serious about the name. He didn't really mind. It was a hassle to name them all, anyway.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Her name is Sarah, and that's how I want it to stay. Please don't ever call her by anything else," the woman said- no- pleaded. He smiled, stretching his hands out for the girl. The woman recoiled from his excited figure, holding the infant, Sarah, fast to her chest.

"There's no paperwork I have to fill out, or legal stuff?" she asked.

"I would much rather there was no proof that this girl- Sarah- ever existed, ma'am," he reassured her.

The woman had a core feeling that something was wrong with the exchange. It all seemed to…simple. Where was the sign off? Or the legal papers? She had expected at least a background check.

Finally, she handed little Sarah to Roger hesitantly. It felt like a ton had been lifted from her shoulder, but a brand new weight had been added to her chest. She had no clue as to what tests would be performed on her daughter, and she had no idea whether or not she would even keep her name.

It was as if she was walking into a dark room, blindfolded, and her arms were tied behind her back. She had no way to feel out what was going on, and no way of seeing what was coming soon.

Roger took the little girl into his arms delicately. She had big, brown eyes, they were very beautiful. She would a pretty girl, and he supposed that she would like to know who all was watching her. It would be important for her to be able to see anyone who watched her.

That would be the test he would perform on her. It would help her, and it would help him, and it would help all humans to be born.

"Sarah, right?" he whispered, both to the woman in the room, and to the baby. She nodded, and little Sarah smiled and giggled. He felt a rush of adoration at the noise. How wonderful children are, he thought. So innocent and clean. So perfect, ready to mold.

"You'll make sure she keeps that name, right?" asked the woman.

"Yes, yes, of course," he murmured, transfixed by the infant. The woman smiled sadly, planting a final kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"I guess I'll be off then," she said. Roger said nothing in return, having already forgotten about her. She nodded to herself, and walked to the door. Before Roger had even realized she had spoken, the woman had disappeared into the heart of Seattle without a trace.

He cradled the girl delicately and walked her quietly into the back room of Lab 5. She was the last child needed to start running the experiments. His lab, the eye lab, had five different advancements to be tested, but only four children. Now, though, Sarah was given to Lab 5, and she was the fifth and final child he needed.

The long, bleach white hallway lead to a small, pale yellow nursery, decorated by five small cribs, four of which were already filled. The fifth one belonged to little Sarah. He set her in the empty crib softly. She giggled in delight, looking excitedly around her new room.

Roger smiled at the girl. Her brown eyes were truly enchanting, and he couldn't help but feel happy just by looking at her. He wondered why the mother had insisted that her name remained Sarah, but he wouldn't ask. He was grateful to her, no matter what her requests were.

In the crib next to Sarah's laid a small baby boy, who silently stared at the resident of his room. His clear blue eyes were prominent, even as an infant. He had small tufts of crimson colored hair already growing all over his tiny head. After inspecting baby Sarah for a while, he smiled at her pleasantly, and then closed his eyes contently and fell back asleep. The doctors had named him Isaac, and he seemed to like the name.

They had found Isaac in one of the dirty alleyways of Seattle, without a trace of his parents. Roger still wondered what kind of a person could leave a child to die. It made him sick to his stomach. The boy sure liked to sleep a lot. Roger didn't mind, though; the more the boy slept, the less he had to do.

He glanced over to the next crib, watching in wonder at the little infant girl in it. She already had a thin head of curly brown hair. She was struggling to roll over. She had been trying for weeks to turn onto her stomach, but hadn't yet. She was slightly behind the rest of the children. She whined and continued to try.

Her background truly made Roger sad. She had been born, then handed off to a relative, who said that they didn't want her, so she was handed off to a third relative, who handed her off to a fourth. She was given away eight times before someone finally just gave her to the lab. They had named her Karin, but she already had a bit of a reputation; she was titled 'unlovable'.

Honestly, Roger could see how she would get the title. Something about her was definitely unappealing. She was hard to love for him, and he didn't like the child. She had an aggravated expression on her face, as she continued to try and roll.

Next to Karin was little baby Bree, who never cried or giggled, or laughed, or whined, or tried to do anything. She sat utterly still and unfazed, looking at the ceiling intently. She had small, brown eyes that always seemed much too old for a baby. He had snatched the girl up from the foster home she had almost been sent to. Technically, he was her father now, but that was only technically. Her parents had been killed in a house fire, so she truly was a blank slate.

The last child was a little infant boy. He had a tiny prickles of dirty blonde hair and an infectious smile. His emerald green eyes were humorous, and his toothless smile was warm. This child, Jacob, was definitely one that Roger could get attached to. His mother, a single woman with a low income job, couldn't afford to keep the boy, so she gave him to Lab 5, pleading that they take care of him. Roger had happily agreed, and took the boy gratefully.

He switched off the lights to the nursery and closed the door softly, seeking out his boss. Reina Longman, the primary doctor at Lab 5, was a kind-hearted woman, who was a genius in the field of eye surgery. She had just recently celebrated her thirty sixth birthday, and hadn't even taken the day off to have a party. She was overly-dedicated to perfecting her experiments and projects to realize what was going on in the real world.

Roger reached her office and quietly opened the door.

"Doctor Smith, what is it?" she mumbled, her eye to a telescope. Roger closed the door lightly behind him.

"Another child was brought to us, Doctor Longman," he said. Reina stood up from her desk and turned to Roger with a smile.

"And what is its name? Or do we have to name it ourselves again?" she asked.

"Her name is Sarah. I think she's a good candidate or the 'eyes on me' project," said Roger.

"Really? Do you mind if I take a peek at her? Or is she sleeping?" asked Reina.

"No, that's fine. The only one sleeping is Isaac." Reina nodded with a warm smile. Her chestnut hair was swept up in a hairnet, and she had bulging goggles on. She removed the goggles and signaled for Roger to lead her to the nursery to look at the new addition to the lab.

"Oh! She's absolutely perfect!" cried Reina with delight as she held Sarah in her arms. Sarah stretched her arms toward Reina's face and flailed uncontrollably. The sight made Roger smile happily. "Oh, there's no way we could've found a better child! These children, all of them; simply fantastic!"

"I'm glad you like them," said Roger.

"This is such an inspiration to get back to work! I have to finish my experiments as soon as possible, so that we can get started!" squealed Reina cheerfully.

Isaac's eyes fluttered open, and he stared at Reina expectantly. She reached down and picked him up with her spare arm, balancing both him and Sarah like a true mother. Then, with a kiss on both of their cheeks, she set them down in their cribs carefully and exited the room. Roger looked at each of the children affectionately, then turned down the lights again and left the room in silence.