NCT : The Dream Lab

XXIV : The 7th Sense

Seoul, South Korea. 2016.

-Sir, sir, are you ok ?

Mark was slowly emerging from his slumber. He was rather disorientated and his sight was very blurry. He could only distinguish the outline of a feminine figure over him, and a cold hand tapping his cheeks.

He grumbled something inaudible, brows knitted in discomfort.

When his sight cleared a bit, he noticed dry grass on his side. It created an uncomfortable sensation on his skin, sticking to his sweat grossly. There were chicken wings spilled out of the bucked he dropped when he fell down and the first disturbing thought that crossed his dazed mind was that he probably looked similar to it. Pathetic, out of place and unappealing.

He sat up abruptly, realizing that it was getting late and that he was quite far from the lab. Taeyong must have been worried sick. Unfortunately, the sudden movement only caused him to almost faint again.

-Sir, if you are able to walk with my support, I will take you to my office so we can lie you down more comfortably and call your relatives, is it okay for you ?

Mark nodded weakly. Even if she had the intention to murder him, he wouldn't be able to resist anyway.

As he stood up with shaky legs, she laced an arm around his waist and put her other arm around his shoulders. Despite her small frame, her grip was firm and her step very assertive. She almost did all the efforts to drag him to her office. She turned the ventilator on, which instantly helped Mark gain back a bit of lucidity. There were beautiful plants scattered on the desk, near the window and on the shelves with a lot of different varieties of orchids. It reminded the Canadian student of his bachelor years when he dissected hundreds of those flowers in the context of a group work. Apart from this impressive plant collection, the office was filled with piles of files and binders organized alphabetically. Everything looked clean, tidy and welcoming but dread was still constricting Mark's chest. Something about the whole building was unsettling. And the memories of his vision were so vivid.

-What is this place ? he croaked.

-This is a retirement home I manage. We have a nice garden for our residents, we can visit later when you'll have gained back strength, she replied while handing him a box of sugar cubes.

Mark was very well aware that his episode wasn't due to low sugar or a drop in blood pressure but still accepted her kindness. After sliding a tool under his feet, she sat down on the other side of the desk and intertwined her fingers which made her look a bit inquisitive.

The silence was awkward, enough for the young man to clear his throat and start a conversation.

-May I ask you something strange ?

The woman nodded with an understanding smile. If this was really a retirement home, she must have been used to handle confused people like him. People who can't recall where or who they are.

-Do the showers have pink tiles here ?

Just the mention of it was enough to make her smile fade. At first, Mark thought that it was because she was taken aback by his meaningless babbling but a little voice inside his head said otherwise.

It said the tiles were indeed pink.

-I don't know what brought you here, young man. Maybe fate. You are not the first one coming to this place thanks to some sort of instinct, an unexplainable gut feeling that never fails to guide you in here. You can't imagine how I hate to tell this story over and over again.