Michael refuses to tell me who that girl is and so did the woman and Dr. Brown two minutes after I regained my balance. I can be quite stubborn when I want something.I bothered Michael and kept pressing until he snapped and told me that the girl was none of my business. There has to be a reason why a girl who looked my age is here. This might be the break in my streak of isolation I've been looking for.
I plan to break into the file room again to search up her profile but the next morning, I am taken to floor 5 to undergo the Deep again. I threw a fight just for the dramatics but I know I'll be fine. When I woke up, I knew I didn't have much time until they do whatever they're doing with the girl. They probably moved her to another floor by now.
I also noticed that I no longer have a headache after the procedure. My theory is that something in the Neuro Boost implants can cancel out whatever instrument they use for the Deep. My idea is that over time, the implants have become stronger and a part of my brain so now, the Deep completely has no power against my brain.
I wanted to leave and go back to my room but the nurses denied my request because it was too early. Only when I gave them waterworks and told them I was scared in a child-like, pathetic voice, did they reluctantly let me go back.
However, I had to head back with another fucking escort. While walking back, the man suggests I pick up my supplies package. I should've gotten them a few days ago but there was a problem and my package arrived late. Not that it's anything I urgently needed anyways.
So, we made a stop at Michael's office where he handed me the box (my packages always arrived to him. He's my mailbox). But my escort suggested that he holds it for me because I was still recovering which doesn't make any fucking sense because it's light as hell. But anyhow, he dropped me off at my bedroom and then left once he determined that I would be "fine".
I opened my supplies package. Books I requested, drawing supplies, paper for school, and then one last thing: a jacket.
I stared at it in confusion as I examined it. I never ordered a jacket. There's no need for one anyways. The temperature of the facility is always at the same degree. Never too hot, never too cold.
It's black with a hood and it's now that I realized I don't own any clothing that covers my head. Not that I would ever need to. I flipped the jacket around and realized it's actually a hoodie with a zipper. One thing I found odd is that there's no imprint. No, "Serpent Department" embossment. Just a plain black hoodie that breaks all the norms related to my clothing.
I search for the clothing label on the inside, the front is blank. I flip it over but the backside is blank too. And then I see something inside of the folded labels. I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut it. Inside, it reads in small print, "Download Tunnel Runners on your Smartwatch and type 'shww://glob.moheaepg.net' into the code redeeming button."
This is so exciting.
It turns out, Tunnel Runners is a game where you have a character and you have to move him/her out of the way of obstacles and try to survive for as long as possible. When the game finished downloading, I did as I was told and typed in the URL code and my Smartwatch froze. I tried to press out of the app but nothing was working. All of the sudden, my screen turned black with a scary machine-shutting-down noise. Now I'm worried if I had just downloaded a virus. But then, something slowly faded in on my screen. Written in a green color, it reads:
"Welcome to the Shadow Web, Adrian Bordeleau."
I stare at my own name in horror as the message continues to display. Just then, I heard a ding noise and I realized that a text surrounded by an outline box had popped up on the corner of the screen. It was a post created by an anonymous user.
YOU ARE READING
My Deceiving Eyes
ActionIn 2239, added as an ingredient for rat poison, a disease began to spread rapidly through the air. Decaying the bones it attaches to, inflicting paralysis and organ failure while its victims remain conscious enough to feel the pain that follow. Two...