You wake as the wood-paneled shutters open above you, a little steam rising along with them; looking around, you find yourself laid out flat on a firm and comfortable cot. You feel weak as a newborn but in other respects fine, and otherwise there is very little in your head but the words you think.
A screen lowers from above you on a clockwork arm of gently clicking gears, the arm connected to the ceiling from a track that allows it to move about the white walled room. For a moment you can see your face reflected in the screen's dark surface: stern jaw, slight stubble, angular nose, sloped forehead, snow-white hair and piercing blue eyes. Despite how you may feel, you look like a highly intelligent, sophisticated gentleman, no older perhaps than middle to late twenties.
The screen turns on with a slight click and then a steady hum, and a face exactly like your own appears on it. This man however appears more worn and haggard, and there is a distasteful fear somewhere deep in his eyes. He greets you with a nod, “Good morning Clone 2654, I am Clone 132. There has been a s-s-s,” he stutters on the word and you can't help but feel the corners of your lips pull back a little in disgust, “slight problem with the mas-s-s-ster copy. Namely, he has been infected with Dread. Full contamination procedures are in effect, this must not s-s-s-spread.”
“In the meantime, we are in the process of finding a s-s-s-suitable replacement by process of elimination; in other words, you will be eliminated if you s-s-s-suffer any genetic abnormalities. I am obviously not s-s-s-suitable, but I have been chosen to moderate the elimination process after the mas-s-s-ster copy could not continue. He is now in deep freeze, and the winner of this little game will acquire full memory and personhood rights. Please exit this room and join the others, and … good luck.” The screen shuts off again and slips back up toward the ceiling. And wouldn't you know, you feel strong enough now to stand!