"How may I help you, dear?"
Bryan looked flabbergasted as his mind tried to pull him away from the unfamiliar scene. "M-mom! You can hear me, and, in fact, you can see me!"
Lily raised an eyebrow as her forehead crinkled with surprise. She eyed the boy before her as a faint smile crept upon her delicate face. "Of course I have superb eyesight, so I can see you." How did you enter my house?"
Before he could muster up a reply, the scene before him started to swirl while an imaginary force pulled him away. N-no I need to stay! Mom!
He awoke with a start, his chest heaving as oxygen flooded his lungs, which craved more. Before his senses could take in the unfamiliar surroundings, red lights blared within the enclosed space, joined in sync by an alert message that echoed throughout the room.
Alert! Oxygen reserves are now at eighty five percent. You have consumed fifteen percent of the remaining supply. Your breath will dwindle with each passing second. Prepare yourself for the unknown. We wish you a safe journey to purgatory.
Fear crippled him as his nerves tried to control his lungs, which were now hungrily taking up the air surrounding him. "This is not real! Where's Ethan?"
His eyes scanned the confined room in search of another living soul as his breath faltered in dismay. The room was made of composite alloy, while the walls were a blend of transparent polycarbonates. An array of sensors adorned the walls, connected to a screen displaying the words: Eighty-five percent to purgatory.
"I'm in this mess alone, aren't I?"
Bryan moved towards the walls as a faint mural caught his attention. His fingers traced out the faint, delicate recesses within the wall as his eyes widened with recognition. "A boy! The skeleton!"
His eyes darted towards a rustic cupboard nearby, which was neatly stacked with papers that seemed to be way too ancient. He pulled a piece of paper from the stack, but before he could make out the writing, the paper crumbled to dust.
Shit! Gotta be extra gentle with these.
He pulled another one, this time gently, as if he were trying to hold up a sleeping child. "Hola! Hoy descubri algo genial, pero p-por alguna razón, mis padres no lo aprueban."
Before he could place the paper back, the sweat on his fingers melted the paper to nothing but thin air. "What the hell does that mean? Hola means hi obviously; genial is what? Genie, genitals?"
He pulled at his hair with frustration as his mind tried to decode the other words. "Whoever this boy was, he definitely was writing a diary."
His eyes sacked throughout the entire room, trying to find a door, as his lungs felt constricted with each passing second. Red lights blared throughout the room in unison as he blocked his ears to cancel out the deafening alarm.
Alert! Oxygen reserves are critically low. Sixty-five percent remaining. You have consumed thirty five percent of the available supply. Each breath brings you closer to the edge. Prepare yourself for the unknown. We wish you a safe journey to purgatory.
Bryan clutched his chest as he tried to squint his eyes, which were now losing focus. He tried to stand up, defying his legs, which prompted him to give up. Before he could continue his search, a voice filled the room, and his heart clamored rapidly in response.
"Bryan, do you recognize this room? No? How disappointing! This game, long forgotten, is called Hopebound. The rules are simple: place your trust in your comrades to set you free. But here's the twist, kiddo. We all crave a bit of drama, don't we?"
Bryan spat on the ground, fury lacing his veins. "You are sick! If you are so proud of yourself, why don't you show yourself, you rotten clown?"
The voice echoed deeply, which sounded like a dramatic sigh. "I was going to go easy on you, but let's see. Why don't we lower the oxygen to a perilous forty five percent? Oh, and as an addition, for every five percent reduction, a slow, creeping tide of saline water will begin to fill the room. Can you hear it? The drip, drip, drip of despair?"
The voice cut off with maniacal laughter as the dripping sound of water filled the room. Bryan felt his feet soaked as water rose to his ankles. Fear gripped him as his body collapsed into the shallow pool. His lungs clamored for more oxygen, and his eyes drifted off to sleep.
Ethan, you would save me, wouldn't you?
YOU ARE READING
Dungeon
Mystery / Thriller{Featured ×4} In the heart-pounding world of 2082, where laws bend and twist like shadows in the night, seventeen-year-old Bryan Adams is thrust into a whirlwind of mystery and danger. Tormented by relentless nightmares of his father's tragic demise...
