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She woke up expecting the light scent of her lavender candles or her husband’s aftershave. Instead, she was assaulted by the musky smell of mold and mildew. She was still in bed, but not her bed. This bed wasn’t very comfortable; its mattress was tiny and rotted, and the frame was so rusted she was surprised it hadn’t collapsed under her weight.
Upon realizing she was not where she should be, she sprang out of bed in a panic, nearly cracking her head on a low ceiling. Once she got her bearings, she noticed how small the room was. Although it wasn’t an oddly small room, it was exactly the size she expected a prison cell to be. Too bad she wasn’t a prisoner and shouldn’t be anywhere near prison.
It was also dark as hell, as not a single spark of electricity ran through the rudimentary lights. She could tell it was midday, as wherever she was, the roof and walls were so decayed they were full of holes that let a little bit of light trickle in from outside. Now the only question was, where was here?
But truthfully, that was hardly the only question. How did she get here? Why was she here? Where was her family? Were all equally valid questions. It was clear she’d find no answer to them just standing around. Thankfully, the bars to her cell had rusted open long ago.
She stepped out into a grand hall of prison cells. It was certainly taller than any prison she’d seen in pictures or on TV. Alas, that also meant the holes letting in sunlight were far out of reach. Even if she could reach them, it’d be a long way down when she exited through.
Her first goal was to find someone or at least an indication of where she was. Her second goal was to avoid wherever that stench of mold was coming from. Her third was to figure out how she came to this place. Was she kidnapped? Was her family frantically looking for her? Had they ever realized she was gone? How long had she been gone?
She was at home before all this, right? Her memory was fuzzy, but she recalled her last time waking up to be much more pleasant. Her husband at her side, getting the kids ready for school, all that normal suburban stuff. Then she went about her day? What else did she do?
She pondered this for a moment as she wandered through the hall, looking for a staircase that wasn’t collapsed. There was that work trip, but had that started yet? Was that yesterday or whatever day she was spirited away, or was that still coming up? Great, now she couldn’t even get her past straight.
If only her husband or kids were here, they’d at least be company. Someone to comfort her, someone to share the pain with, someone to talk to. Alas, she had no one. But if they were here, her husband would…what would he do? What would the kids do? Would they be scared? Would they try to break the tension? What would they even say?
Her husband would say, “Honey, why don’t we…” No, he didn’t call her honey…or did he? What was his nickname for her? Did he have one? What was her nickname for him? On that note…what was his name?
She stopped dead in her tracks as she spotted that hole in her memory. And once she spotted one, the others became more apparent. What did his face look like? What were her kids’ names? How many kids did she have? Where did they live? What year was it? Who was she?
On a separate note, how long had she been walking? Only a few minutes, right? She was still a little groggy from waking up so suddenly. Then why couldn’t she see the cell she woke up in? Why did the hall seem off? It’s like whenever she turned around, something was different. Was all this even real? Was she even real?
She hoped it wasn’t because now she was panicking. Something was wrong. Why was it sunset all of a sudden? What’s that creaking sound? She looked around and saw nothing but an endless hall of rusted-out cells in every direction. Forwards, backwards, up, and even down. Wasn’t she standing on the bottom floor? What is that moving in the corner of her eye?
Rather than answer that last question, she began running. She needed to find something: a door, a stairwell, another room, anything. The world wasn’t closing in, but it was constricting around her. Nothing made sense. Her mind felt like Swiss cheese. Like parts of it had been removed. She hadn’t seen anything else yet, not even a skeleton. Would it be scarier if there were other people’s remains? Or is it scarier with there being none? Does that mean no one else had died here? Or is there something cleaning up? Is there someone following her? Why does the hall seem to stretch further and further?
Her legs were burning, and her mind was in a swirl. Nothing made sense, and nothing would anymore. Her pace slowed, but her heart beat faster. Something was there. Something must be chasing her. She dived into the first cell she could find and practically tripped over the bed. She hit her head on the wall and collapsed into the rotted mattress. Not the best place to hide, but she wasn’t getting another chance to pick. Her vision blurred as a shadow appeared at the door of the cell.
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When awakening in a strange and unfamiliar place, it is best to think back and retrace your steps to determine how you got to this place. But in this case...are there even steps to retrace?
Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.
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