Subdue-X

Entropy Abroad

I tore the mask off, gasping as the thick chemical scent still clung to my throat. My fingers were numb, trembling as I pulled the IV lines from my skin. The sting barely registered through the haze of grogginess. I forced myself to stand, though my legs felt like jelly, and the world around me wavered in and out of focus.

The blue lights flickered, casting distorted shadows on the glass walls. This place—this cold hell of reflective surfaces and endless corridors—I knew it too well. Everything looked the same, every turn leading to another identical hallway. The air was sharp, sterile, and unnervingly quiet.

I stumbled to the elevator, each step a battle against the tug of sleepiness that tried to drag me back down. The elevator button blinked red, over and over again, mocking me. I leaned against the icy metal, my breath fogging the polished surface. The silence was oppressive, suffocating, like the walls were pressing in.

A soft sigh made me jump. Pin appeared behind me, his hand firm under my armpit as he helped me stand. His face was as blank as ever, but his touch, though professional, carried a hint of reluctance, like he was guiding a fragile object back to its proper place. He led me toward the bed, but I resisted, shaking my head.

“No, no, no…” The words came out slurred, my tongue heavy in my dry mouth. “I don’t… want to be alone.”

Pin glanced around, his expression betraying nothing. Still, I sensed a moment of conflict, as if he was weighing some invisible scale. “Alright,” he finally said, lifting my arm over his shoulder. His movements were careful, deliberate, but there was no comfort in them. He wasn’t doing this for me.

He settled me back onto the bed, adjusting the angle so I was sitting up. The chair beside the bed creaked as he sank into it. His hand dipped into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and he squirmed in the seat like he didn’t want to be here. I could see the tension in his shoulders as he avoided looking at me.

I rested my head back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pulling me down again. Then his phone buzzed, and he glanced at it, his eyebrows lifting.

“Emergency,” he muttered, standing stiffly.

“What—” I tried to sit up, but my body didn’t cooperate. I should’ve felt something—alarm, concern—but everything just slipped away before I could grasp it.

Pin ran a hand down his mouth, a rare gesture of unease, before he turned and left the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and the quiet returned, thick and suffocating. I forced myself up again, my movements sluggish but determined. Tiptoeing to the door, I peeked out, catching a glimpse of Pin as he disappeared into the elevator.

For a moment, I just stood there, listening to the dead silence of the hallways. No alarms, no footsteps. Just the endless hum of machinery.

I glanced down at myself—blue scrubs, white socks. No shoes. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but I couldn’t stay here. I needed to move. I bolted back to the elevator, pounding the button with my palm. It dinged blue, and the doors slid open with a soft whoosh. My heart raced, adrenaline fighting the grogginess still clouding my mind.

I slipped inside, hitting the button to close the doors as fast as I could. The elevator began its ascent, and my stomach fluttered with nerves. I wasn’t sure where I was going, or what I’d do when I got there, but staying here felt like a slow death.

The floor numbers climbed, and I fought to stay conscious, gripping the railing as I waited for the next move in this twisted game.

Don't look down, it's a merry-go-round. The thought spun in my head, a frantic mantra as I stumbled through the parking lot. I couldn’t focus. My vision swirled like a whirlpool, dragging me down with every step. I needed a car—any car. The thought of driving felt absurd when I could barely stay upright, but I had to try. Walking wasn’t an option either, not like this.