"Blake." He backs away from the door a little, but leaves the fingertips of one hand touching the surface. "What happens if you don't let me out, do I stay here and rot. Or maybe you press a button and the room fills with gas and then you call someone to remove my body?" His voice is casual and chatty. "That seems a bit harsh given how welcoming the pamphlets are. Probably it's just sleeping gas, and then I wake up in a smaller room, tied to a chair. What's your name?"