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...
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"Arrrgh!" Atlas shouted as he pounded on the blue wall. They had been trapped in this room for two agonizing days. Hunger was making them restless. Thirst was making them irritable. They had managed to solve another puzzle, and it had granted them another protein bar and beverage as a reward. Even with the prize, they were no closer to the freedom or answers that they desired.
It hadn't been a complex puzzle, just a simple safe in the corner with no apparent combination code or keyhole. The only feature on its surface was what appeared to be a card slot, the smallest rectangular hole in the middle. The room had seemed a bit off upon entering.
As they stepped in, they could see the back of a dark brown cloth couch. In front of the sofa sat a small wooden coffee table, a transparent panel in the middle of its surface. On either side of the couch sat two medium-sized nightstands, each adorned with a bit of decor. The living space was tied together with a large, soft, ornate rug.
Atlas had immediately pointed out the symmetry imbalance in the flower vases that sat on top of the nightstands. The vessel to the left contained small round pebbles and eight fake flowers. The vessel on the right held the same stones, but with 12 flowers. Atlas set towards the vases and arranged them so that there were ten on each side. This action caused a chain reaction and prompted the safe in the corner of the room to slam open wide and provide their meal, which they had split on their first day in the new area.
They had no more food or water until they left this room.
Presently, however, the room appeared very different from when they first found it. Hope and Atlas had both torn the place apart in search of the new puzzle to grant them escape. The rug was turned up and halfway across the room. The coffee table was upside down. The safe had was inspected five times over, and the beautiful nightstands had been overturned, spilling the contents of the vases across the floor. Hope had begun to work on destroying the fabric of the couch. She primed her scissors and ripped out a large portion of it's back.
Finding nothing inside the couch, she cut the fabric into a template and created a sort of sling or messenger bag. With her new bag tied securely around her slim body, she rolled her eyes at Atlas' fury. Hope had long expended her anger and set to work on productive tasks.
"Relax. We will get out of here. We just need to look harder," Hope said, with a note of optimism in her voice.
She placed her scissors and her fingernail clippers into the new bag, "Would you like me to make you a bag?" she offered.
Atlas sighed, shaking his head. It was rather foolish of him to get angry at this. No amount of anger would help him escape. He walked around the walls for the nth time that day. Two days was a long time to be contained, and Atlas was growing disconcerted.
That guy from earlier must have stayed there at least a week. Alone.
His thoughts had seemed to wander more often the past day. He looked over to Hope, who had taken off her shoes to walk along the hardwood flooring. He knew she was searching for the puzzle by using her feet and sense of touch.
