The Wind Corridor

I was standing in the middle of the open door, facing a long corridor that looked like an extension of the white room. It was full of dark brown wooden doors. Four on the right side and four on the left.

I leaned against the doorframe. My head was hurting.

Was it the visions or the loud sound of gears?

I massaged my temples, trying to ease the pain.

What were those visions? Would those things really happen to me if I made the wrong move? Or had they already happened before?

I was so confused. The headache seemed to be easing little by little.

I looked toward the end of the corridor, and a dark shadow startled me.

It contrasted with the whiteness of the place. It didn’t seem to be moving.

It’s a statue… I looked again. I think.

I didn’t take my eyes off it, and slowly went to the first door on my right. The same nervousness from before started to show itself. I was starting to sweat.

I turned the handle slowly and felt resistance when I pulled.

Damn… It’s locked!

I turned to the opposite side and tried the other door, keeping a safe distance from the figure at the end of the corridor.

That one was locked too.

In a hurry, I tried the door beside it, which was also locked.

I felt completely frustrated.

Door by door, I turned the handles, only to find the same resistance of a closed door.

And with each one, my anger grew more and more.

Little by little, I approached the end of the corridor.

Now I was sure it really was a statue.

It was carved in the shape of an angel with short wings close to its body. It seemed to be wearing a light cloth. It had an expression of sadness on its face, and its hands were turned upward.

It seemed to be made of dark gray porous stone and had green aging marks, like moss. Just like the sink in the room.

In its hands were an envelope and, on top of it, a key.

I hesitated before putting my hand on both. As if everything would truly begin as soon as I took them.

I put the key in my pocket and opened the envelope.

You are advancing better than last time.

I stared at the sentence for a few seconds and put the papers back in the statue’s hand.

A discomfort rose through my chest. I looked around, searching for some sign that I was being watched.

Is this some kind of sick game? Am I on a TV show?

“Hey! Let me out!” I shouted angrily.

My voice echoed through both rooms. No answer.

I took the key out of my pocket and tried using it on the doors, but none of them opened. I could swear they were laughing at me.

I looked again at the object in my hands.

White, as if it were made of the same material as the tiles around me. Its end was round, with the number one engraved in black.

That was when it came to me.

I looked at the chained door and knew exactly where I needed to go.

Checking the chains, I noticed that each padlock had a different design. The one with the number five was painted with black paint and, at the same time, worn down. The fourth one, which I didn’t want to touch, was wrapped in green moss. The third was very clean and polished, almost shining. The second was made of bronze, with strange markings around it.

And lastly, number one. That one had the same design as everything around me.

Before putting the key in it, I thought:

Is it right for me to participate in whatever this is?

With no option, I put the key in the lock, and it opened like magic. The chains fell to the floor.

A small happiness took over me. Until I remembered that there were still four padlocks left.

A strange wind kept blowing.

So cold.

I looked, confused, toward the corridor where the current of air was coming from.

The door closest to the angel, on the right, was open.

“Is someone there?” I asked instinctively.

I swallowed dry.

“Answer me! Stop messing with me!” I shouted angrily.

No answer.

Damn.

I got close to the statue, and there was a space behind it.

How was I so distracted? Someone could have been waiting to come out, open the door, and run away.

I looked inside the door, and the light only illuminated a small part of the path. The rest was completely dark.

Think positive, think positive… I repeated several times in my head, trying to cheer myself up in that situation.

“If there’s wind, then that means there’s some opening to the outside.”

It could also be a trap.

I looked around.

I don’t have another option, do I?

The cold air seemed to be affecting me. I could hear my heart beating and felt a tightness in my chest.

I walked firmly until I reached the part where the white light of the room no longer reached.

My pace slowed the darker it got.

Step by step. I felt as if I was doing the wrong thing.

“There’s no way I’m wrong. If there’s wind, then there’s an exit,” I repeated to myself several times, trying to convince myself that I was right.

I decided to guide myself using the wall beside me. I placed my hand on it and used it as a guide before taking each step.

Hands forward over the cold wall.

Slowly, I was making progress.

I looked back, and the door I came from had become a small white square that grew smaller with each step, until it disappeared completely.

That light represented everything I already knew. Comfort and safety, getting farther and farther behind me.

While I was going toward the dark and the unknown.

I wanted to go back.

But I needed to keep moving forward if I wanted to get out of there.

I continued for a while longer in the darkness, until my hand no longer found the wall in front of me.

Using the other wall as a guide, I realized that on that side too, there was no wall ahead. Which meant I was at a fork.

There was a strange smell in the air. It smelled like iron. Or better, rust, to be more exact.

I followed the right side, still leaning on the wall. The wind blew against my back.

I took two steps and got scared by what seemed to be stakes pressing against my body in several different places. Biceps, thigh, shin, shoulder, stomach.

I took a step back.

Carefully, I put my hand forward to check.

I got close to look, and they seemed to have some kind of liquid on them. It smelled like iron.

A thick oil. What could this be?

I thought it might be some kind of grease, but that smell was too familiar for my liking.

Since the path ahead was blocked, I decided to follow the other path.

The wind is coming from that direction. It makes more sense too.

Slowly, step by step, I walked through the corridor, going against the wind that blew softly. It seemed wide, but it seemed to be getting narrower.

I felt the opposite wall getting closer with each step, in the same proportion that the wind also seemed stronger.

It was hard to hear anything, and even so, I heard a voice.

“Gabriel…”

I froze.

That way of speaking. Low, tired… far too familiar.

“You took too long…”

I took a step back before realizing it.

“I waited for you…”

The wind blew harder against my face.

I almost lost my balance.

“…but you didn’t come.”

I shook my head in denial and started getting out of breath.

“Why didn’t you come?”

The smell of rust became heavier. I couldn’t breathe.

I let the wind push me backward.

“Didn’t you want to see me?”

I didn’t want to take another step forward.

If she was there… I couldn’t continue.

The wind pressed against me, crushing the air in my lungs.

What would happen if the wind threw me backward?

The thought came without warning.

My body froze for a second.

I already knew the answer. I didn’t need to look back.

I closed my eyes, even though I couldn’t see anything anymore.

I kept taking small steps forward.

The smell of rust came back.

I started hearing that voice, and quickly put my hands over my ears.

“SHUT UP!” I shouted desperately. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

My legs were shaking.

I needed to continue.

I leaned on the wall.

I stumbled.

I fell to my knees.

I opened my eyes in surprise.

There was no wall anymore.

It was a small space protected from the wind.

There was only one suspicious door.

I took a deep breath. Finally, I could breathe.

I looked at the wind corridor, which was blowing furiously.

I was exhausted. That had been completely draining. I was sweating a lot.

And the voice? What was that?

After resting, I got up and tried the door.

I pushed the door.

The air changed at the same time.

Dry.

Silent.

I took a step inside.

And stopped.

Shelves.

Endless rows.

Books.

Everywhere.