Subdue-X

Stasis

The lights lining both sides of the concrete walls were a cold, dim white-blue, casting long, ghostly shadows as the SUV descended deeper into the underground complex. The entrance we came through sealed behind us with a heavy, echoing clunk, and I barely caught a glimpse of the sunrise and trees as they vanished from sight. My only way out—gone, just like that.

I didn’t realize it at first, but my fingers had clenched into the shoulders of the driver’s seat, knuckles white as I frantically scanned my surroundings. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the air was thick with a damp chill that made it hard to breathe.

The driver caught my eye in the rearview mirror, a fleeting look of pity crossing his face. He knew there was nowhere to go, and so did I. The realization settled in my chest like a stone. Chris, we never really had the chance to say goodbye. Would I see him down there? Probably not. Why do I feel like I’m the last thing on his mind?

We continued down the empty, desolate road, and I spotted that elevator door at the end—the place I was never allowed to go. My body screamed at me to run, to bolt the moment we stopped, but my rational mind knew better. There was no escape, no button or lever that would magically free me from this nightmare. Christian was right, this was the last place I’d ever want to be.

The SUV came to a halt, and the driver crawled out of his seat to open my door. The passenger didn’t move, and a wild, irrational impulse took over. I threw myself across the back seat away from the driver and stumbled out onto the shadowed road. The cold cement was rough under my bare feet, but I barely felt it as I ran, my heart pounding in my ears.

It was dark, almost cold enough to see my breath, and the road ahead was steep, winding upward like some hidden highway to nowhere. I knew from training that looking over my shoulder would slow me down, but there was no need—no one was chasing me. No footsteps, no shouting. Just the eerie, suffocating silence of a trap that had already been sprung.

The garage door loomed ahead, massive and immovable. I slammed my fist into the solid metal, desperation clawing at my throat. I took out my phone, staring at the screen in disbelief before dropping it to the ground in utter defeat. My lungs burned, and I fought to slow my breathing, but I was quietly hysterical, panic tightening its grip around my chest.

The sound of leisurely boots approached from behind, each step a taunting reminder of my hopelessness. I kicked my phone towards him—a useless, discouraged surrender. The driver bent down, picking it up, his expression unreadable as he studied the screen, noting that my efforts to reach out weren’t responded to.

“No answers,” he said with a slight raise of his eyebrows, almost scoffing. He tossed the phone back to me, and I reluctantly caught it, my hands trembling.

“Why would you do that?” I asked, my voice small and shaking as I tucked my palms under my armpits.

“I’m not worried about it,” he replied casually, his tone unnervingly calm. “I have no reason to be.”

He turned and began walking back towards the elevator. I glanced back at the sealed exit, feeling the weight of my exhaustion pulling me down. My legs were leaden, my mind drained, and my body knew this wasn’t the proper direction, yet I followed, as if on autopilot.

The driver kept glancing over his shoulder, making sure I was still behind him. It was an odd thing to do, as if he cared whether I followed him into the depths of this place. My feet refused to move any further, and I froze in place, my thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm.

The driver stopped and turned to face me, scratching his forehead in frustration. “Listen,” he muttered softly, his voice carrying a soothing Arabian accent, “there is nothing up there. Only a locked door.”