Move, Ogre!

Far from the streets of the city, there was a low rumble ringing through a vast, open building. Concrete columns held the next floor aloft. And despite the half-built ceiling overhead, a few workers were already prepping and stretching electrical wires for immediate installation. 

The other five dozen men in the vicinity were busy carting rebar, pouring concrete, or building the framework for the missing section of the final floor.

That low rumbling came from the large cement mixers. Wheels creaked from the carts of rebar, and the rebar clanged with each bump or movement.

And monitoring each group of workers, there was a goon in black. Those ten goons nearby were armed with a knife and a pistol. But what they kept in hand was a small remote, which was occasionally pointed at one of the collar-wearing workers. 

"Uhnn!" "Hmm…" "Gaah."

Every time a collar heated up, the wearer groaned or gasped in pain.