Trials of the Test Subjects

Chapter 11: Echoes of Defiance

We pressed on through the stark, silent corridor, each step amplifying the tension coiled within us. The intercom’s recent message lingered in my mind, its cold voice making my skin prickle. Whoever was monitoring us knew our every move. We couldn’t afford any mistakes.

Lyn led the way, his eyes sharp and focused, with Sera and me close behind. Our night vision goggles were back in standby mode, but every flicker of the lights reminded me they might be needed again at any second.

As we rounded a corner, Sera motioned for us to stop. Ahead, a massive, reinforced door loomed, adorned with warning signs and keypad locks. Her eyes darted over it, calculating. "This looks like a main passageway. If we can override it… we might gain access to higher levels.”

“Any chance it’s not heavily guarded?” I asked, scanning the area for security cameras. A small lens blinked in the corner above the door, its faint red glow a reminder of our monitored status.

The technician adjusted their toolkit, setting it on the ground beside the door. “I can try bypassing it, but it’s a high-level lock. We’ll need some time.”

“Do it,” Lyn urged, positioning himself to keep watch.

The technician’s fingers flew across the panel, each beep of the keypad sounding louder in the tense silence. I glanced around, every shadow in the corridor seeming to stretch and shift, as if aware of our escape attempt.

Minutes ticked by. Sera and I exchanged nervous glances while Lyn’s gaze stayed fixed on the hallway. Just when I thought the door might be impossible to crack, a faint click sounded.

“Got it!” the technician whispered triumphantly, pushing the door open. We slipped through into a smaller, dimly lit passageway that felt more neglected than the others. The scent of antiseptic lingered here too, but beneath it was something else—something stale and metallic that made my stomach twist.

As we moved deeper into the passageway, the sound of machinery filled the air. Metal clanged and hissed, like old ventilation systems churning to life.

“This place feels… off,” Sera whispered, clutching her arms as if to fend off a chill.

“It’s a service area,” the technician said, scanning the walls. “Used for maintenance and storage. Not many people come here.”

We moved carefully, aware that any misstep could trigger more alarms. Around us, rusted pipes lined the walls, leaking an occasional drip of murky water. The further we went, the darker it became, and Lyn signaled us to pull down our night vision goggles.

With the world now tinted in green, every shadow seemed more alive, every sound amplified. The hall opened up into a vast room, barely illuminated by a few flickering emergency lights. Large metal tables and empty gurneys were scattered around—signs of disuse and decay.

Then, a soft shuffling sound came from somewhere in the room, freezing us in our tracks.

Lyn held up his hand, motioning us to stay still. We waited, listening. The shuffling sound grew louder, punctuated by an eerie scratching, like metal scraping across metal.

“Someone… or something… is in here with us,” Sera murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Slowly, we edged forward, the faint glow of our goggles casting eerie shadows on the walls. A figure emerged in the corner of my vision, hunched over and moving in a jerky, unnatural way. My heart skipped as the figure turned, and I realized it wasn’t a person—it was a twisted, doll-like puppet, its oversized, childlike face cracked and faded with age.

The puppet’s painted eyes were hollow, its mouth frozen in a permanent grin that sent a chill through me. Stiffly, it shuffled closer, limbs creaking as strings pulled it forward from somewhere above, like an abandoned marionette with no puppeteer.

Lyn signaled us to retreat, but the puppet’s empty gaze locked onto us, and it jerked forward, movements twitching with disturbing precision. My heart raced as I realized there was no door or barrier between us and it.

“It’s coming,” I whispered, taking a step back.

Sera’s hand found mine, gripping tightly. “We need to go—now.”

The puppet lurched closer, its movements growing faster and more erratic. We turned and bolted back down the hallway, the sound of its mechanical clattering echoing behind us. Adrenaline surged as we dashed through the narrow corridor, desperately seeking an exit.

“Up ahead!” Lyn called, pointing to a staircase tucked into the far end of the hallway.

We dashed up the steps, the relentless clatter of the puppet growing louder behind us. My lungs burned, but I forced myself to keep moving, each step feeling like a lifeline as we ascended to the next level.

Reaching the top, Lyn threw open a door, and we stumbled into another dimly lit corridor, sealing the door behind us. The pounding sound stopped abruptly, but the silence only deepened the tension.

We exchanged a look, breathing heavily but relieved. For now, we were safe. But I knew that this was only a temporary reprieve. Whatever haunted these hallways wouldn’t give up so easily.

“Come on,” Lyn said, leading us forward. “We’re getting closer. We can’t stop now.”

And as we moved down the corridor, I felt a spark of determination ignite within me. We would face whatever lay ahead together. We would find a way out, no matter what lurked in the shadows.