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Lockdown

by Mr.RMA

Mr.RMA Whilst I struggle continuing with all my delayed works, here's a little something from my Fiction Writing class. I'm not letting any plot details out this time, you'll just have to read the story yourself to figure out what it's about~
First day in this building, and it’s definitely gonna take some getting used to. A lot of people keep walking by, looking completely lost, confused; I’m not sure why. Didn’t they know why they were coming through here? It couldn’t be that puzzling…but then again, in retrospect, I’m not quite sure why I’m here either. For a while I thought I knew, but…now it’s a blank. I’m probably just tired, that’s it, had a rough night, didn’t sleep well, I’ll wake myself up eventually. For now I just have to get to my assigned room: 98E. I at least remembered that much…strangely vividly for that matter…more so than anything else. Hell, I couldn’t even fully envision getting out of bed this morning, but 98E just stuck out like a big neon sign.

The hall I’m walking through is brightly lit, that sort of off-white beige color lining the walls and ceiling, with a darker, scarlet tile floor underneath it all, with thousands of those small little squares all clustered up beside each other, similar in every way. Everything is so well kept here. Not even the slightest speck of dust seems to float in the air as I keep moving down the dozens of doors lining both sides of the hallway, all looking exactly alike aside from the numbers printed on them in gold lettering. I pass by one door in particular, this one slightly different from the others, as it has a large window beside it. The rectangular tables with computers on them clue me in that this must be the main office of sorts. This isn’t my business so I keep moving, but I manage to hear the muffled conversation going on between two individuals on the other side, a pale, balding man in a black suit and a young redheaded woman with a white dress. “This is the 200th time…how many more failures can we take?” I hear the bald guy say, but I’m out of range before I can catch what the girl has to say back. Must’ve been quite the problem they were having if they had screwed up 199 times before. Hopefully I won’t have that kind of trouble with my work, whatever it is.

I finally reach 98E, my room, at the edge of the hallway, right next to the stairs. I must say I’m sorta curious as to where those stairs lead. After all, it doesn’t appear like there’s much of any light down there. It’s probably just a power saving precaution; they probably aren’t using those rooms for the moment. It’s none of my concern anyways; I have to get to work. I open up the door, and it appears I have the place all to myself, which is fine by me; I get more stuff done when I’m not distracted. The room is completely lined with large white tiles on the floor and ceiling, with a small desk and a connecting chair right in the middle with a large pile of documents smack-dab in the center of it, along with a couple pens nestled right beside the mountain of papers.

I obviously have my work cut out for me, so I waste no time in taking my seat and grabbing a pen, reading through the first page before me, just as a voice comes out of the intercom right above my door, saying, “commence.” I proceed to do so, but I notice something a bit strange from the get-go…there doesn’t appear to be a place for me to put my name. It’s probably just so they don’t incorporate any bias when they’re evaluating the work later, so, I don’t think too much of it. Most of what I’ve got here seems to be a bunch of basic math problems, no more difficult than something out of a middle-school textbook, combined with a few brain teasers and a history question or two. It all feels like a mixed up version of the SAT…Is that what I’m doing here? Taking a test? Well, maybe, I couldn’t even recall the reason myself, so, that wasn’t exactly out of left field. After a few minutes, I’m done with the first page, so I flip to the second, and I’m faced with the exact same questions as the first page. This must be a misprint, so I flip forward some more, only to find the same material staring at me for each and every proceeding page. Okay, this has to be a mistake on the part of whoever printed this thing out, so, I get up and start making my way out the door to see if I can get some help here…and that’s when I feel a strange shock run through me… I really feel against stepping outside all of a sudden… as if something in my gut is telling me I’ll really regret doing it. I’m really inclined to listen to my conscience here and just fill out each page and let whoever’s in charge figure it all out later, but… then I notice something outside…

It was only there or a brief second, but, I had seen something zip right past my doorway, heading over in the direction of the stairway. My curiosity now overpowers that gut –feeling of mine, and I step back out in the hall to see just had been in such a hurry. Whoever it was, they aren’t there anymore, and I hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing from the lower floor. My mind feels like it’s going completely blank as I decide to go down the stairs myself. The moral sense that was trying to keep me in my room feels like it’s been disconnected, as if I had just unplugged something from my head…and it feels like I had just unplugged something pretty damn important. Every step further down makes me feel dizzier and dizzier; I begin to hear a light buzzing sound in my cranium, my vision starts to blur as I’m at the final three steps, and the dizziness is so extreme as I finally make it to the lower floor that I’m half-expecting I’m gonna pass out…but then I hear the shots ring out, loud, crashing, echoing discharges. They were gunshots, no question about it, and they quickly snap me out of my daze. Whoever I saw earlier must be trying to break in…and someone must have been unfortunate enough to catch them in the act…and here I am, just another potential victim.

I feel a chill run up my spine, adrenaline starts pumping into my system. I turn to start up the stairs again, but I suddenly hear more steps…another intruder? Oh god, I’m surrounded…I quickly dash into the first door I can find, hoping the other infiltrator didn’t spot me. I lock the door behind me, only to realize just now that this door has a glass panel on it, allowing anyone outside to see right through…I need to hide somewhere. I quickly notice this room is nothing like my own: rows and rows of monitors line the grey walls, all of them showing images of rooms far more like my own, with the people I had seen earlier that day looking around confused, apparently having also heard a remnant of those shots from where they were. I hear the voice from before suddenly come through the intercom in this room: “Everyone please carry on, there is no need to panic,” the voice says as I notice another door within the room, this one without any transparencies. I waste no time in hiding inside what ends up being a tight squeeze. This door has no lock...but why am I worrying anyways? There was no need to panic, the loudspeaker had said so, and obviously, they wouldn’t have gone to such trouble to tell us this if it weren’t true, right? That knock at the door? That jiggling of the handle? No need to panic. That loud, shattering sound of glass? No need to panic. The sound of footsteps growing ever louder near the broom closet I’m in? No need to panic…Why would they lie? The door opens…I want to close my eyes but I just have to know who this is, and I can’t believe what I’m seeing because of it…It’s the balding man from earlier. He stares at me with a sort of annoyance, as if I’d disappointed him just now. I can’t say anything; I’m not sure whether I should be frightened or relieved.

“We took care of the interruption, sir, you can return to your room now,” he says to me, and it’s only now that I realize, not only the gun in his coat pocket, but the familiarity of his voice. He’s the intercom speaker…he must be in charge of this building…but why did he just shoot someone? What are they after? I need to know...none of this makes sense. Why am I here? Why are any of us here? Why didn’t we know? I don’t want to go back, I want answers! I open my mouth to speak…but then I feel a sharp sting in my stomach…A large needle is poking out; he’s injecting me with something. I raise my arms to push him away, but they go limp, I can’t move them, I can’t move my body at all, I can’t even keep myself standing…I slump to the ground…everything goes black.



First day in this building, and it’s definitely gonna take some getting used to. A lot of people keep walking by, looking completely lost, confused; I’m not sure why…
Tags:
  1. Prof. Tree
    Prof. Tree
    Too much reading. I am Pre-K level.
    Sep 24, 2014
  2. Shiny Pyxis
    Shiny Pyxis
    I need plot details or I'll die Arma D:< (nice job as always though eeee I NEED TO KNOW MORE SOB)
    Sep 23, 2014