Chapter 1:

The White Room

The Room

Even with my eyes closed, the strong white light bothered me. I opened my eyes slowly. My face was on the floor in a puddle of drool, and my whole body felt strange. My head was hurting. I didn’t know if it was because of the light or because I had just woken up.

My vision was blurry. I saw a greenish stain in the middle of all that white, in the opposite corner from where I was.

I got up and sat on the floor, leaning my back against the wall while rubbing my eyes.

The details started taking shape.

The greenish stain turned into a marble sink supported by a column that went down to the floor. Its color was dark gray, mostly covered by a green kind of aging.

Attached to the wall above it, there was a rectangular mirror and a small wooden cabinet painted white on its right side.

To my right, there was a dark wooden door covered in chains and padlocks. Looking at it gave me chills, as if something bad was behind it.

The whole room was lit by a white light and covered with white tiles on the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. The black lines created a strange three-dimensionality that made me nauseous.

That was when I realized.

I’m in the room!

I stood up quickly and felt all my blood go down to the rest of my body. I felt dizzy and staggered a little.

Breathing heavily, hands shaking, I ran to the chained door, stumbling from the lack of strength and crashing against it, almost hurting myself on the iron of the chains.

Angry, I pulled the chains hard in a useless attempt to break them.

I turned the handle, and the door was locked.

I turned around, adrenaline flowing through my body, and saw another door with a wooden sign above it.

I ran to the other side, pulled and turned the handle several times, hoping that one of them would open the door.

But nothing.

I lifted my foot and kicked with the sole of my shoe as hard as I could, several times near the handle.

And nothing.

Then I tried using the force of my body. I took a running start and slammed against the door several times, but it didn’t even move.

My shoulders were aching.

I got on my knees in front of it, screamed, and hit the door with both hands as hard and as loud as I could.

Then I sat on the floor. My back turned to my failure. Tears rolled down my face.

“Why am I here?”

“Why is this happening to me?”

“Why me?”

Tears rolled for hours while I looked for shelter in my arms.

In the middle of the storm of thoughts, one began to stand out and take over all the others.

How did I get here?

I didn’t remember if I had gone home or if I had stopped somewhere. Judging by my clothes, I was wearing my old suit, but without the tie. My work “uniform.”

If I didn’t remember how I got here, how could I be so sure this was real? What if it was a dream?

The pain felt too real. I would have woken up from the impact.

Does that mean I was kidnapped?

I looked at my clothes.

Or did that thing from the office catch me?

A shiver ran up my spine.

No, I’m sure I escaped.

If someone took me from my home, then that means the kidnapper will show up soon to discuss terms. It’s the most logical thing I can think of right now.

Maybe I should wait.

***

Hours passed. Or at least it seemed like they did.

No clock, no sunlight. There was no way to tell.

I was starting to feel out of breath in that place, and hot.

How long would I last before I started to feel hungry? And what about thirst? You die faster without water than without food.

What if no one came?

What if I died here?

Who would take care of my cat?

What would happen to Laura? Would she keep waiting for me alone in front of the cinema?

I bet she wouldn’t even show up.

There’s no chance she likes me, right?

What was I thinking?

I laughed lightly.

I felt a pressure on my back.

Echoes of distant voices came into my head.

Do you think you don’t deserve to be happy?

Do you think you don’t deserve to live?

“Why am I thinking these things?” I laughed lightly again. “I don’t want to leave Laura waiting.”

I got up and looked around the room, swallowing dry.

“I’ve already escaped from here in my dream several times. So there has to be a way out,” I said, almost encouraging myself. “Even if I don’t remember.” I whispered softly.

The chained door on the other side looked darker than the rest of the white room. Something evil was behind it. I was sure.

From far away, I could see five padlocks. And if the other door was locked too, I would need one more.

My only chance was to try opening the door behind me. The wooden sign above it caught my attention.

Carved carelessly into the wood was the number four in Roman numerals.

I bet it’s a clue.

I went to the aged sink and slowly opened the white cabinet beside the mirror.

Inside, there was a small transparent acrylic medicine bottle with a white cap. What was inside didn’t look like medicine. It looked more like a bunch of seeds.

What kind of seeds are these?

I put it in my pocket.

No key.

I stood in front of the mirror and started analyzing my appearance.

Messy black hair that I needed to cut. Unshaven beard.

I should be more careful.

My eyes were dark and tired. My eyelids had dark circles.

Are my eyes black?

I pulled one of my eyelids from side to side, and the entire white part of my eye was black.

I couldn’t move my hand, and my body stopped responding.

Like black ink, it possessed my finger and started spreading over my hand.

My arm was already the color of oil.

The despair kept growing.

Move.

I tried with all my strength to get out of that. It was as if I was watching my body from far away.

My eyes started to tear up.

Move!

The ink kept spreading, and little by little I couldn’t see the rest of my body anymore.

Tears rolled down and opened paths through the “ink.”

With the force I was making, I threw myself away and fell on my butt on the floor.

I was out of breath. I looked at both my arms and my body, and I seemed normal.

I didn’t know if my eyes were dark, but I didn’t want to look in the mirror again to find out.

Startled, I looked at the wall and saw something I hadn’t seen before.

An opening big enough to put a hand through. Inside, there was a large chain hanging.

I got up and approached the opening.

My heart was beating fast. Was it because of what had just happened, or because of the chain?

It felt like it was calling me.

Before I realized it, I touched the scratched iron with my fingers. It was as cold as a corpse.

I held the chain and pulled it four times in a steady rhythm.

The first pull brought unbearable heat. The walls melted, my skin bubbled, and in the end, I was cooked alive.

The second, water came out from the gaps between the white tiles, filling the place faster and faster until I had to float to breathe. I fought as much as I could until I ended up at the bottom with pain in my lungs, slowly drowning.

The third, a gas came from somewhere I couldn’t see, covering the place where I was. At first, I thought it was harmless, until I started coughing and coughing, until it became hard to actually breathe and I fell to the floor, suffocating.

The fourth, nothing happened. I was surprised for half a second.

On impulse, I almost pulled the chain one more time.

A vision of the fifth time appeared. The ceiling started to come down slowly. I heard the grinding of gears. I felt the weight increasing, crushing my chest, my ribs, my head. Every bone giving in, slowly.

I let go of the chain, scared.

Loud sounds of gears moving from every direction scared me again.

I covered my ears to block out the sound.

As suddenly as it appeared, it disappeared.

The silence was back, and I was full of doubts.

But my mind only wanted the answer to one.

I went toward the door. Each step made my body go cold and tightened my stomach.

I placed my hand on the handle.

I stopped for a second.

Slowly, I turned it, until it reached the end.

Did it open?

I pushed forward and felt resistance. I was disappointed.