Control Room - BTS [ON-HOLD] (Choose Your Own Adventure AU)

3: Questions

You ask Namjoon if you could escape with him.

"Can I come with you?" you asked quietly, your eyes slightly wide with excitement. How long have you been down in this hell? How long has it been since you've seen the outside? Obviously for awhile. You could never count off the days. There were too many to even do that. 

Namjoon didn't seem all that surprised with your question. He went back to staring at what little people lingered in the room. You weren't sure if they could hear the conversation. Hopefully not. You didn't want to get reported to the Camera Guards. "I don't know. I have to figure that out for myself. I need to scan the place. I need escape routes. Just give me a few days. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." You actually felt like that came out in relief and happiness. This was the most amount of hope you've had in years. You were going to get out of the Underground. You were going to see the light of day again. You can finally see something for once than those stupid cameras all day that gives you a headache. You were given hope. A hope of escaping. It was the best feeling in the world.

Namjoon sighed. You looked over at him. You could see something in his eyes. Sadness? Regret? Something was bothering him, and you didn't know what. Maybe it was best not to ask him. He had an eventful day, it looked like. You just had to leave him alone to do his own thing. That's what you had to do when you first came to the Underground.

"What year is it?" you asked, finally giving up the guts to ask. This was something that was never brought to the attention in the Underground. No dates, no time. Just day after day of routines that would never end, it seemed like.

"2343," Namjoon said, simple and plain. "Why?"

Your breath seemed to get caught in your throat. 2343? It's been four years since you've been in the Underground? You were surprised to find yourself still sane in a place like this after four years. It was only a matter of time until someone went crazy in a place like this. You were strong willed. You seemed like you wouldn't let anything get past you at this point.

"Oh," you small voice breathed out. You could feel your throat starting to close up. Four years since you last saw your family. Four years since you saw what daylight was like. You always imagined what it would feel like to feel the sun soaking into you again. It would probably feel amazing.

"You've been down here forever, have you?" Namjoon asked, his voice turning sympathetic. You looked over at him, and you could see the sadness coming across his face. He looked sorry for you. Somebody was actually sorry for your condition for once.

"Four years, I guess," you murmured out. You looked down at your plate of food. It was growing cold. You suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore. "I didn't know I had been here for that long. Maybe a year or so. Never that much."

"You have a strong will." 

He was right. You did. You had stayed alive this whole time. You hadn't dared to question anything. There was no beatings to leave you dead. There was no little voices in your head. You were just left there to fend for yourself. You were willing to live as long as you could. "I guess I do."

"I'm going to get you out of here," Namjoon said. His sadness was turned to determination. He looked like he was ready to go along and start his process of finding a way out. "I need you to cover for me when I need you to. It will only be for a short while. I'll find our way out. Trust me."

"Thank you," you whispered. How long has it been since you last had those words slip out of your mouth? "Thank you so much for giving me hope."

Namjoon smiled at you, clapping a hand on your shoulder. You watched him stand up. His dimples were showing, the cut on his cheek curving around one. His brown eyes smiled with his mouth. "You're going to be okay. I'm going to get us out of here."

You didn't say anything as Namjoon walked away, leaving you to your cold food. You watched him go, walking out of the dining hall. No one stared anymore. Some had left. You were guessing it was almost time to get to bed. That's where everyone usually went around this time.

Sighing, you started to eat the rest of your horrible food. You were going to get out of this place. You just knew it. Now it was only a matter of time until you could escape.

~~~~~

You were back in the white room. You could feel those invisible restraints against your wrists. They kept you in a close perimeter to your bed so you couldn't escape. Those restraints felt like they were cutting off your circulation. You could feel your wrists starting to hurt, your fingertips turning tingly. Why did they always keep you this tightly bound?

You always came back to this place. It was like a reoccurring memory. You were never able to piece together what any of this was, but it seemed relevant. It would tickle your mind. It was something that was never able to grasp. It was nothing. This was nothing to anything. You were just stuck in a white room every time you came here.

"Where's my family?" That was always the first question. Your mouth would say the same things over and over again every time you came back to the white room. You would always question whoever was there, hoping to get a correct response. They never gave a direct answer.

"Tell us how you are," a soothing woman's voice rang throughout the plain room. No one was there with you. Her voice just seemed to echo through your ears. It made shivers run down your spine. "Do you need the bonds to be loosened? Your vitals seem to be alright except for your heart beat. Are you having a panic attack?"

You scowled at the room, tugging at your wrists. It did nothing to help you. You knew it never would. "Go to hell. All of you."

"That's no way to talk," the woman's voice suddenly went stern, almost like a mother would scold you: soft yet firm. It was like this person knew how to treat you as a child. You were old enough to make your own decisions. They couldn't do shit. "Are you having a panic attack, Ms. L/N?"

Your last name. You hadn't heard that in forever. No one called you by your name in the Underground, nevermind your last name. This white room was the turn of events. It was always played over again, but it would surprise you every time with how they called you by your last name.

"No, I'm not," you muttered, looking down at your hands in your lap. "I'm fine."

"Do you need anything else before we start the testing, Ms. L/N?"

You ask . . .
A) About your family again.
B) What the test will be this time.
C) If you could have the restraints loosened.

Start: 19.02.2018
End: 26.02.2018

Choose wisely . . . ~