Fatal Order

Part 1 : Let Us Start The Frolic - 1

TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains elements of suicide, self harm, and abuse. If these are sensitive subjects for you, please proceed with caution or avoid this story if you feel it is necessary.

The room Alex was in was wholly silent.

Not a single noise could be heard beyond the shuffling of his cold body and the rattling of the cheap, uncomfortable bed he was laying on.

The frame wasn't sturdy, and the mattress felt closer to cardboard than it did to comfort.

As soon as Alex realised how uncomfortable this bed was, he came to the realisation that it wasn't even his own bed.

Once he had come to his senses, he opened his eyes wide and immediately sat up, rubbing both of them as if to confirm that he was actually awake.

"Where... am I?" he lightly whispered to himself while he slowly glanced around the barren room he had found himself in, as he realised this was a room he was not familiar with.

He didn't even know what his last memory was, everything in his brain was a blur, and it felt like he had awoken from a long slumber.

The walls looked dirty and grey, the floor appeared to be cobblestone, and a small, grimy toilet sat unwelcomingly in the corner of the room.

It was then that it immediately hit Alex: he was in a prison cell.

"Wha-? Why am I here? What the fuck?"

He quickly swiped the thin bed sheets aside and leaped off of the bed, then walked over to the door of the cell.

This was no ordinary door. It became immediately obvious just by one look.

It was the only "new" or "polished" looking thing in the entire room.

The room and its few contents were grey and dirty, but the door was pristine and crystal white while looking incredibly high-tech.

It was in extreme contrast to everything else in the cell, and it only left Alex scratching his scalp as more questions came to mind.

"What the hell is with this door?" he asked as he reached out his foot and lightly kicked it. "This is some crazy shit..."

He then turned and gazed around the cell one more time, as if he were hesitating his next move.

That was until, he stared at the door once more, and began heavily pounding on it, throwing all his shame out of the window, as he frantically screamed for help.

"HEY!"
"HELLO?"
"SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
"WHERE THE HELL AM I?"
"OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

After shouting for a while, Alex eventually accepted defeat, and fell against the door, panting and holding his head.

"What... the fuck... why- OW!"

In an attempt to remember how he had ended up in this situation, a sudden burst of pain hit him, right when he felt as if he was about to regain some sort of memory.

"Ah... ow- that was weird..."

Then, at that moment, Alex could've sworn he heard a voice. He didn't think he recognised it, but it sounded like it was coming from the wall to his right as if someone in a room next to him was trying to communicate.

"Did I hear someone...?" he whispered as he pulled himself up, and slowly walked to the wall as if hesitating to respond.

"Uh... hello?" Alex said as he held his ear against the cold, dry wall.