Johan woke up.

For the second time.

An involuntary gasp came into his mouth as his eyes slammed open and he breathed out deeply. A lingering taste on his throat and mouth nearly caused him to vomit but swallowing down his own saliva and forcing another breath into his stomach stopped the sensation.

This time he was able to see his immediate surroundings. His eyes completely uncovered. There was no message from any system which he assumed was some type of controlling authority. Even a boss or manager who called themselves a System Controller as a job title.

He wasn’t wearing a blindfold nor did he take it off. All he knew that that he was awake again and this time he wasn’t willing to be blind with some freak talking to him and telling him to be quiet.

The chances were that he’d been forcefully recruited for a private game scenario by someone rich, bored or crazy and his entire reaction was being recorded. The fact that the Director of Human Resources Assistant, Andy Darr, had ambushed him and was so forceful was another piece of evidence. The man had been desperate for him to agree without giving up details.

Johan had been on enough corporate training days that he’d eventually covered a decent number of topics. The fact that his work was highly valuable to the company meant that he’d been able to have more personal lessons than the average employee which included corporate kidnapping.

Step one in a hostage situation. Take stock of your surroundings.

An office, he was stuck on the floor of a private office judging from the walls, floor and ceiling. A single door was closed and a large window had blinds pulled down, not a corner office but still likely belonging to a middle-manager.

Sitting up he touched his shoulder. The injury was gone, so either he hadn’t been dreaming the first time the crazy personal assistant had decided to force him to read out a card and been healed when he woke up or this was a nightmare hidden within several deeper layers.

No. His eye. Something had happened to his eye. His hand moved to his left socket faster than he could imagine before he felt the softness of the bulge indicating to him that it was in his socket. Squeezing it tight and blinking several times before testing his vision with his other eye let him know that he was physically fine.

Likely he used pepper spray or a chemical to cause temporarily blindness. All the talk from that freak about replacing my eyeball didn’t make sense. Can’t trust a crazy person anyway.

Clearly pain wasn’t going to wake him up. Johan still gripped the flesh hard between several fingers and squeezed to the point where it was mildly painful but with little result. The same as his eyeball, any injuries he had suffered were gone or had never been inflicted in the first place.

Still, better to make sure than fall into another trap. Either that or he was suffering a complete psychotic breakdown and he was hallucinating this. All the horror films that he had watched had covered quite a few decent varieties after all and it usually stemmed from a single person going insane or trust into an insane situation.

Calm it. In an emergency listen first and then act. Stop thinking for a second and act. Get hold of yourself Johan. Listen!

He pushed his hearing hard and slowed his own breathing, even holding his breath for a few seconds to see if he could make out any sounds. Nothing. No sounds of movement, no crazy voices from either a personal assistant or a voice of an insane person.

Better. Wait.

Not even the chatter of a busy work office with colleagues rushing to their tasks or having a chat in the hallway. The only sound he heard was a buzzing sound above his heard as he raised it to see a flickering strip light. The walls were standard magnolia, with two pieces of furniture in the room with him. A desk and chair which he ignored for the time being.

Unusual that it hadn’t already been dealt with, in his old office and places of work, Johan usually found that when he reported repairs they were dealt with swiftly. Yeah, this situation wasn’t right. At least there wasn’t a voice or people in masks telling him he had joined a game or scenario to make money. Oh wait, that was from a film wasn’t it.

A horror film. Where the people in masks had been infected by a madness virus. And then the twist was….no.

I’m losing myself. Focus. Calm your imagination.

Johan grabbed hold of his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Trying to keep distracting himself from screaming aloud after the mysterious voice he lightly called out. His overactive imagination was going to make him actually go into meltdown if he wasn’t careful.

He opened his eyes and shifted his legs beneath him, crouched low enough to avoid being a target but fully prepared to move if necessary. He doubted that anyone was hiding behind the desk but he’d rather be sure. Or they could be behind the door to the office.

‘Hello? My name is Johan. Thank you for...letting me go free. Is there anyone else there?’ called out Johan.

‘I repeat. My name is Johan Wolff. I work for the Mediqo medical supplies company and...if anyone is hiding in this room do me a favour and get out here already. Or I’m going to find you and beat the crap out of you.’ said Johan. He tried to inject a little firmness in his voice.

To be scared was to be a victim and he would fake the fact that he wasn’t scared and prepared until he found himself in a little better control of his own situation. Losing himself and screaming his throat raw had its own time and place. Besides, if he was in an empty space with nobody around a little breakage of office furniture wouldn’t hurt anyone.

I’m losing it. Two chance encounters and I’m finally losing it.

The flickering light above his head on the ceiling of the office created several shadows in the room which fuelled his imagination but it held steady. With no response he sat onto his legs and crossed them, taking his time to run through a quick yoga routine and roll his shoulders a little.

He patted his stomach, there was a decent amount of muscle there but he had always been a bad fighter. He lacked the instinct to finish and all the violence and red mist before his eyes wasn’t a match for someone who had trained professionally in martial arts. At least that was what his coach had told him before he had been politely asked to leave the premises.

Thankfully, this time he was alone. He reached an arm behind his back and leaned into another stretch as he slowly got a better grip on his emotions. Alone. He was alone inside this office. No noises outside aside from the buzzing strip light above unless he happened to be inside a soundproof environment.

As far as he knew anyway. His hands were free, his legs unbound but he had been placed in the same lying down position as before until he had moved himself into this sitting position.

The voice hadn’t lied about freeing him from his bonds, but the last word that it had muttered before it welcomed shook him. He was an unwilling participant in a game filled with seemingly crazy people. Possibly extremely rich bored crazy people but all the same he’d need to get past his own hesitation and find an exit as soon as possible.

His eyes ran down to his bare chest which had been covered in a rough material, nothing modern, more like a rough hewn sack for carrying potatoes. His body was still cold, not as bad as before but there was a chill in him. The same for his hair, he rubbed it but it was shorter. Not fully cut entirely short in a buzz cut but shorter, it’d been trimmed down.

Move Johan. You need to move.

He didn’t like to admit to himself but he was shaken up. No shirt last time and then someone had cut off part of his hair. Even though he’d watched a fair few horror films in his spare time, they’d always scared him a little. Partially the fact that he took them too seriously but also the thought that one day he’d be involved in one.

Get. Up.

Uncrossing his legs Johan reached out a hand behind him to push himself onto his feet as his fingers touched cold metal. He pulled his hand straight back and shoved himself into a standing position using his legs.

Standing up he did one last stretch with his hands raised above his head before he took stock of the entire room. The first place Johan checked was where his hand had touched a cold piece of metal. He saw a glint of red under the flickering light and reached down to find the same Kris knife which had been embedded in his shoulder and then left on the floor in his previous conscious state with the voice of the unknown crazy person.

‘We meet again Mr Kris. Or would you prefer me to be informal and call you Miss Knife. Why, we barely even know each other yet and I’m already talking to you like a person who’s gone completely insane and enjoys talking to a piece of metal which has been inside my flesh. We know each other so well already.’ Johan talked utter nonsense to himself, both of the benefit of anyone observing him and to let off a little steam.

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At this point it was either this or scream, and just in case there happened to be another mysterious voice ready to drug him back in unconsciousness Johan would rather avoid it.

He held the Kris knife in one hand examining the blade as he compared it to the one in his memory of the man back in the office car park. The memory was too fresh and Johan needed to keep his mind off his present situation. He needed an excuse to focus on a particular pattern.

His name came back to him. Andy. Andy Darr to be exact, the personal secretary for the Human Resources manager before he’d lost his mind and came out with an elaborate plan on how he’d framed Johan with a crime of some type. Corporate fraud on a massive scale it seemed which would have destroyed both his working reputation and ended up with legal charges.

Of course, with enough money lawyers could be hired but although Johan had been paid a decent salary he wasn’t one of the richest ones around. Buying his own apartment and paying off the high mortgage was a worse idea than he had thought.

He should have taken the job offer working at Imperial Coffee instead. He’d heard good things about the CEO of the company and how he genuinely cared for high talent employees.

The blade. Focus on the blade.

Drawing his attention back to his present situation, Johan rotated the blade around, careful to keep his fingers and palm away from the edges. It was either the same knife or an exact copy. Ornate styled with a patterned flame style hilt and letters in a language that he didn’t recognise.

The best he could approximate now that he had a little time to study it without fear of being stabbed by a crazy co-worker. The words were wrong, not that he knew that they said but they gave him a sensation of being constructed in a disorderly manner. The edges of the blade appeared blunt enough but Johan decided to test them on the edge of his shoe to test the sharpness.

Nothing. Barely enough to even cut through the black leather of his office shoes. If this knife had been used previously by the mysterious voice to cut his bonds then it either had a trick to it or another tool had been used. He could use it to threaten people as a last resort but other than that it came across as a worthless item to keep a hold of.

My shoulder. This thing cut straight through my shirt and into the flesh of my shoulder.

Johan recalled that Mr Darr or Andy as he had been referred to by his boss has threatened him with the knife and driven it directly into human flesh. No mark had been left behind, not even a bruise. Regardless, it didn’t matter in this situation.

He’d been threatened, kidnapped and then drugged unconscious to find himself inside a closed and partially dark private office. In this situation any weapon would do, but a sheath would make it even better.

Time to examine his surroundings and get a better understanding of the situation. If he was meant to be a ‘player’ according to the mysterious voice than he’d been following rules. And then he needed equipment to prepare for situations. In a way it reminded him of the corporate escape room experiences he’d been on during his initial training in Mediqo.

Human Resources under the severe direction of Miss Martinez had book not a room but an entire warehouse scenario where dozens of people where then locked inside and had to search for various, tools equipment and even bottles of water and snack bars within a given time limit before they were released.

This was similar to that, except the crazy people. And the fact that he was standing inside an office with no shirt on thinking deeply to himself while holding an ancient style knife. The thought came to him that the type of knife that remained in his hand wasn’t usually used for combat, it had a spiritual value as well. A religious symbolism which he racked his memory for but came up mostly blank.

‘I’m still standing here. What do you think Mr Kris? Shall I explore my surroundings or keep distracting myself and talking to myself like an insane person does? I think the first step would be to get out of this room. Yes it would.’ said Johan.

Taking a few steps and turning around a few times, the size of the room was average at best. The ceiling strip light continued to flicker with the buzzing noise becoming intermittent before finally silencing. Johan would have considered it as a type of audio torture if it had carried on. Or he’d just find a way to break the light or pop out the light fixture.

What surprised Johan was the near complete lack of furniture inside the office. There was a single desk next to the wall behind him along with a chair, the carpet was old and dark grey, verging on being worn out. Then a single large window with the blinds pulled down from the inside. There was no way that he was going to pull the cord and life them up abruptly. Just in case a bloodied face was waiting on the other side to give him a jump scare.

The colours of the blinds matched the carpet, dark grey and worn. Stepping over to the desk Johan ran a finger across it with his free hand as the other carefully clutched onto the Kris knife. Lifting his finger closer to his eyes to get a better look he noticed there was a thick layer of dust.

Old. Bending down Johan examined the desk in more detail. Under the dust was the same colour as the carpet and the blinds. The same for the fabric covered office chair. Dust on top with a dark grey underneath.

‘I don’t know who designed the colours of this office but it’s basic enough to be bad. Grey blinds, grey carpet and matching colours for the furniture. I think Mr Kris that we can leave this place.’ said Johan.

When he’d watched horror films, it always was the ones who acted a little crazy or different to be the ones to survive. Being crazy meant being unpredictable. Or at least, he’d fake it unless he had a better idea. Besides, the taste inside his throat hadn’t left yet. He needed a good drink of water or another beverage to clean out his mouth and rehydrate himself.

His stomach wasn’t hungry yet but this was only a matter of time. Unless he’d been trapped inside a place where the ex-employees were meant to hunt each other down for food in a nightmare cannibal Human Resources directed scenario. He wouldn’t put it past Miss Martinez to arrange that with her apparent love of horror films.

He’d only met her in person briefly but when she’d talked about her favourite scenes and characters in films for twenty minutes before he’d finally build up the courage to ask her why he had been called into her office he knew that she was odd. Her personal secretary was even worse.

Johan turned his attention towards the desk and the drawers, or rather the complete lack of them. There wasn’t even a space to store any personal items. It was as though the desk had been half-finished and then dumped into an office.

He had a ritual knife, a bare upper body and a completely empty private office space which held nothing but dust, bad design and signs of total wear and tear.

The next step would be going outside. Testing the tip of the Kris knife on the tip of his finger he found that it didn’t resist flesh in the same way that it did with the tip of his office shoe and it slid under his skin drawing out a thin line of blood.

‘Yeah. You cut me. You went ahead and did it Mr Kris, you actually cut me. I’m going to need to vent in a little bit, and if the rest of this place is abandoned as here is I’m going on a little office rampage. No, you’re not allowed to join, you’re a knife.’ said Johan as he sucked his finger until the slow drip of blood had completely stopped.

The taste of his own blood wasn’t her preferred drink of choice but this was better for appearances.

‘Yum. Yum. All for me and none for you Mr Kris.’ said Johan as he mock shook his head.

He’d keep up his crazy act as long as he got answers. Or not. For all he knew there were hidden cameras inside this office space capturing his every movement with a whole bunch of rich assholes drinking fruit juice and eating gold leaf chocolate while they placed bets on him.

Office horror. He was inside an office horror scenario. Oddly, Johan didn’t recall it being a big part of the overall horror film market. He’d need to do a quick search first and then he’d be out into the unknown.

The door. Try the handle and keep hold of yourself Johan.

After a quick and brief search of the rest of the room, both physically and visually Johan had discovered two more items which he’d completely ignored when he’d first woken up.

Mostly because both of them had blended with the dark grey, worn out carpet but also because he’d been so busy trying to keep his mind occupied and not the fact that he was slowly growing hungrier and thirstier or scared out of his mind.

The first item was a cloth, or at least he assumed it was a piece of cloth. Likely, it had been what the mysterious voice had draped over his body to keep him warm. Holding it with both hands he opened it and stuck a hand inside to find it was a sack, rough but not scratchy.

As a test for the Kris knife he dropped it inside and found that it didn’t cut through the bag or even leave a single scratch. The blade worked on human flesh but failed to cut through inanimate objects.

Part of a mystery which he didn’t care to solve for now but at least he had a workable weapon. As for using it effectively, he’d just have to practice a downward stabbing motion when he had a little more spare time.

The second item was even odder to Johan’s eyes. It was thin rope but also not rope which had clearly been sliced into two pieces. The material was odd in his view, smooth but definitely organic. The dark colour looked familiar but he couldn’t place it.

Looping it through his belt Johan managed to attach the sack after tying it off with a rough knot. Enough so the Kris knife could sit safely inside. The fact that the Kris knife failed to cut through the bad wasn’t of much concern to Johan as he attributed it to the strength of the material that the bag was made of.

I’m becoming a proper murder hobo. Wait, was that how they described it those films with fantasy elements?

One of his ex-girlfriends had been heavily into that scene to the point that he’d met her for dates and she was fully kitted out as an adventurer with props, makeup and costume. Part of the reason that they’d broke up had been his lack of interest in the strange and fantastical.

Johan appreciated good fiction. He’d read more than a few books in different genres when attending corporate conferences or waiting at airports but to dress up as the characters with green skin and fake tusk-like teeth was a little excessive in his eyes.

Christine. You would be proud of me. Maybe when I escape this place we can date again.

Fully prepared with his hobo sack and his Kris knife Johan advanced towards his next challenge, the office door. Turning back, he grabbed the chair in the room and dragged it closer. If necessary he could use it to block a crazy person. Just in case.

He reached for the handle.

Don’t let there be someone in a mask and a knife on the other side. Give me a break.