With a watch on his wrist, no memory of his past, and a puzzle-filled room, Atlas tries desperately to escape the elevators.
Upon waking to darkness, Atlas stumbles into the white room. His desire for answers driving his feet to move. In the firs...
- Hello! All feedback is welcome and appreciated, but please do not comment telling me to add more dialogue in the first two chapters. It was designed this way on purpose and I have no intention of adding more. Thank you! -^^-
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Atlas," He managed to rasp the single word. That was his name. It felt foreign to him. It must be his name; a name that someone else had given him, but who? The blurred memory of a woman passed like a shadow behind his eyes.
Darkness consumed his vision. Shifting onto his elbows, he moved his hand in front of his face but saw only black. Thoughts began to run through his head at lightning speed.
Where am I?
Why is it so dark?
Atlas―Who am I?
A searing white light exploded from a source to his right. The pain shot through his eyes and temples, and he squeezed them shut as quickly as he could. A violent natural response sent him falling back into a fetal position. The piercing hot pain behind his eyes left a high-pitched ringing in his ears.
After what felt like hours, the ringing subsided to a dull thrum. With some reluctance, Atlas slowly moved his hands from his temples. The pain behind his eyes was still there but he managed to open them, letting in a little light at a time. It was blinding. His eyes felt heavy and crusted as if they hadn't been opened in years. After a period of adjustment, the man deduced that the light hadn't been super bright, but the sudden appearance had certainly scarred his pupils. He blinked away the agony and took in his surroundings.
Atlas could just make out the outline of walls in the dim-lit space. As his eyes adjusted, he could see all-white elevator walls with a single button labeled '1'. The elevator door appeared to be stuck halfway open, the crack pouring out the light. He stood up, fighting nausea and the urge to sit back down. Atlas stumbled over to the button on his right. He guided his finger to the '1' and pressed it weakly. As prompted, the door opened the rest of the way.
The doors burst open, clearing a path for more light to tumble in. Atlas threw his arm up to shield his still sensitive eyes. On his raised arm, he noticed a silver watch. The cool metal provoked him to give it attention; the shiny material calling his eyes. The heavy piece of jewelry was set into the curve of his wrist, ticking away the time.
A thought struck Atlas. He rummaged through the pockets of his jeans, finding nothing. A feeling of urgency washed over him.
Why is my only possession a watch? What was it ticking to? Is it simply telling the time, or is it a warning?
