The White Room

Chapter 11

It's been a couple of hours. I refuse to go to sleep, knowing that it will bring another simulation.

I pace back and forth trying to not cry from desperation or from the thoughts the white room is trying to push into my brain.

But soon I feel my mind slipping into sleep. When I wake up, I seem to be in a building of some sort, a hospital of some kind.

I know what this simulation will show me, It will show somebody dying, probably someone I love, according to the brief description Axel told me.

So, I go downstairs, willing to face whatever is down there. What the simulation will want me to do is ask what is happening, so I expect that an ambulance will approach whoever they would want me to see, whoever I expected to see.

Sure enough, people rush past me with a body on a stretcher. Instead of looking, I look away.

"Who are you? Are you family?" One of the nurses asks.

I want to answer, to find out who is in the bed but I simply lie

"No, I was just leaving."

I shoulder past her and try to walk out the door.

But it's locked. No matter how many doors I try to open they're all locked.

I'm trapped.

But, I won't succumb to the simulation.

There has to be some way to get out of them.

"Can I help you?" The nurse asks.

"Yes, I believe so, Can you open this door for me?"

"Are you unwell?"

"Yes, I have to get home and rest."

"Are you unwell?" She asks again.

Alright, this is creepy. The scientists must know what I'm trying to do.

"Open the door."

"Are you unwell?" She walks towards me placing a cold hand on my arm.

"No, I just need you to open the door"

She grabs me firmly and guides me up the stairs. I try to shrug her free, but her grip is tight as metal.

I have to fight to remember that this is a simulation and not real.

I need to be calm, for Axel's sake.

"Show me the way," I say, and the nurse lets me go.

I walk up the stairs outside the door.
Opening the door I brace myself for whatever is coming.

Then I rushed to the side of the bed.

The gravelly voice moans in his sleep.

It's my father.

But, I don't have to remind myself that this is a simulation.

Because he's already dead.

"His heart rate is dropping,"

Why show me this?

If it has no effect?

"What happened to him?" I ask.

"He was looking for someone, his daughter,"

"How did that make him die?" I ask.

"You see, someone stabbed him in the heart,"
"WHO?" I hate how slow this simulation is going.

"His own daughter."

The simulation swirls and I'm standing in a dark room. In front of me is my father sitting in a chair, bound.

Behind me is Mr. Pierce.

"Shoot him,"

Now I understand. I fear myself, so this simulation builds on that.

But, despite it being a simulation, it's very very real.

"He's a traitor, a murderer."

I cry, not wanting to grab the gun on the table.

"Do it," My father pleads. He wants me to be safe. He'd rather be killed than me.

"I don't know how to fire it," I lie, aware that while they might not be able to see or hear who I'm talking to, they probably monitor what the situation is.

"What are you talking about." Mr. Pierce looks at me. Oh, that's right. The people are actually people that know who I am—an agent.

"Shoot. Now. Or else I will shoot you."

I pick up the gun, fumbling with it.

I pretend I don't have the strength to pull back, to show the scientists.

Mr. Pierce holds the gun to my head.

A shot rings through the air. Not his but mine.

Then I woke up in the white room.

I pant.

They're all monsters.

They'll stop at nothing.

The man appears.

"Are you ready to tell us yet?" He asks.

I stare at him.

"What's your name, so I don't have to just call you the evil tyrant who ruined my life." I simply say.

"You can call me Mr. Vellin. You didn't answer my question."

"Maybe that's because I have nothing to hide," I say.

"How do you know how to fire a gun?" He asks.

"My boyfriend taught me," I say, well aware that he'll know that I'm lying.

"We'll see about that," He says and leaves. Or he disappears. What do you call it?

I'm left alone in the white room.

Fear ebbs in my mind, and I sit. 

Word Count: 788