The technician led us through another doorway, down a steep flight of metal stairs. The echo of our footsteps bounced off the walls, each soft pat amplified in the tight, cold stairwell. My fingers brushed the night vision goggles on my head, ready to pull them down if the darkness closed in.
At the bottom, we found ourselves in a maze of storage rooms, the ceiling low and the air thick with an industrial scent. Crates and cabinets formed narrow pathways, casting long shadows in the dim emergency lighting.
"This way," the technician whispered, motioning to a corridor lined with thick, steel doors.
We moved quickly, our footsteps careful. Lyn kept glancing over his shoulder, a flicker of tension in his eyes. It was quiet-too quiet.
A shuffling sound broke the silence, echoing from somewhere nearby.
I froze, the others halting with me. "Did you hear that?" Sera whispered, her voice barely audible.
We all strained to listen. Faint, dragging footsteps grew louder, heading in our direction.
"Hide," Lyn mouthed, gesturing toward a stack of crates piled against the far wall. We crouched behind them, pressing ourselves into the shadows.
The footsteps approached, steady and relentless. I eased my goggles down, switching to night vision. Through the green glow, I saw the source of the sound-a figure in an orderly's uniform, scanning the area with slow, deliberate movements.
Lyn and I exchanged a glance. We waited, breaths held, as the figure paused mere feet away from our hiding spot.
Suddenly, a soft clatter came from another corner of the room. The figure turned toward the noise and stepped away, disappearing into the corridor. We seized the moment.
"Go!" the technician whispered urgently, and we slipped from behind the crates, moving deeper into the maze of storage rooms. My pulse hammered in my ears, but I kept my steps light, careful to avoid anything that might make a sound.
A door loomed ahead, marked with a faded "Exit" sign. Relief surged through me, but as we approached, another orderly stepped into the doorway, blocking our escape.
We ducked back, holding our breath, our backs pressed against the wall. "There's another way," the technician whispered, nodding toward a side hallway.
We followed them, skirting past crates and broken shelving until we reached an unmarked door. The technician pulled it open, and we hurried through, finding ourselves in another corridor-this one even darker, with only a single, dim light at the far end.
"Quickly," the technician urged, and we hurried forward, pulling our night vision goggles up to see through the shadows.
After what felt like an eternity, we reached the end of the corridor and slipped into a stairwell. For the first time, I let out a long, shaky breath.
"Keep going," Lyn said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "We're not out yet."
With a final glance back, we started up the stairs, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
YOU ARE READING
Trials of the Test Subjects
Terrorᵂᴴₑᴿₑ ₐᴿₑ ʸᴼᵤ, ᴸᵢᵀₜᴸₑ ₘᴵᶜᴱ? Trapped in an abandoned facility, a group of young individuals, including Ana (code-named Mitochondria) and Lyn, awakens without memories, forced into a chilling experiment. As they navigate dark corridors and face the te...
