> July 29, 2024 - Mumbai, India

He was just about to start an online chess game when it happened. A strange link popped up on his screen, something that should've been impossible with all his ad blockers and protections in place.

He tried to close it, moving his mouse to the upper right corner, but there was no 'X' button.

‘Weird.’

He squinted at the link's name: The Tower.

‘A scam? A virus? A hot lady 5 km away?’ he chuckled as he thought about it.

He right-clicked it to check the specific link address, but it showed the same: The Tower.

“What are you playing at…” he whispered.

After a while, curiosity got the better of him. He had VPNs and layers of security; nothing should get through… right?

His finger hovered over the mouse. Against his better judgment, he clicked.

The screen went black. His heart skipped a beat, and he nearly yanked the power cord out of the wall. Then, just as suddenly, the screen flickered back to life, displaying two options:

image [https://i.imgur.com/80EbZI4.png]

‘What the...?’

His curiosity flared again, stronger this time. This was like nothing he'd ever encountered. He stared at the screen, weighing his options. What harm could it do to take a look? He clicked "View Random Climber." The screen went black again for a moment, then an image appeared.

A white room. Sterile, featureless, except for a single person in the middle.

His eyes widened. What was this? Some kind of live feed? He leaned closer to the screen, his breath shallow.

The person in the white room moved, confirming that this wasn't a still image. The figure paced back and forth. It seemed to be shouting or… screaming? Something about it did not feel right. Was this acting or…

He felt a chill run down his spine.

The figure in the room sat down, crossing their legs and closing their eyes, appearing to meditate. He watched, fascinated and disturbed. He glanced at the screen again, hoping for more options or information, but there was nothing. Just the view of the white room and the person inside.

Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. The figure eventually stood up and started to explore the walls, pressing and tapping as if searching for a way out.

It was clear: he was trapped inside. But then the question was: was this feed live? Was someone really trapped somewhere like this…?

A sudden thought struck him—what if this was some kind of interactive experience? Maybe he could do something. His eyes darted around the screen, searching for clues. There were no instructions, no hints. Just the eerie silence of the room and the solitary figure.

He hesitated for a moment, then clicked around the edges of the screen, trying to find any hidden buttons or options. He tried scrolling with his mouse for a zoom. Nothing. Frustrated, he leaned back, rubbing his temples. This was getting weirder by the second.

Then, without warning, the figure in the room stopped in front of a wall. It was eerie. He was even a bit afraid but… his eyes never left the screen. He did not blink but… nothing happened.

The man just stayed there as the minutes passed.

He shook his head, wondering if he should just turn this off and forget about it altogether. Maybe he should call the police… no, he was too lazy and too much of an introvert for that.

He glanced at the screen one more time and decided to close it. But again he remembered there was no button to close it. He pressed ‘Alt+F4’ but nothing happened. He then tried with ‘Ctrl+Alt+Del’ but the same.

‘Should I just turn it off?’

His finger inched closer to the ‘Shut Down’ button, but then he retracted it. There was nothing to do today anyway. He might as well see where this went.

He got up, grabbed some snacks, and brought them back to watch the screen. But it was the same.

He finished eating and then noticed the figure was now kneeling on the floor in front of the wall. He frowned and leaned closer.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

‘Did I miss something?’

He was about to turn his head away but then noticed a slight stain on the wall. Was that… blood?

He gulped and his heart started beating faster.

‘Should I do something? Should I call the police? But how will I explain this?’

He looked to the side, bit his lip, and left.

He went out to catch some air but left the PC on. He started scrolling on his phone, searching for anything about The Tower online, but found nothing.

He decided to try a different approach:

[White room people trapped]

He frowned as he saw some references to something related to white torture. While several links were interesting and probably related to what he was seeing, he wanted something different. He changed the search topic:

[White torture live feed]

He scrolled down and saw some rather disturbing links but still not it. He thought for a bit and wrote:

[Link The Tower White torture]

And then the same… no. There was something else.

His eyes remained fixed to the screen of his phone. He gulped when he saw it again. There it was, in the corner of his search engine page: The Tower. The same link.

He stared at it again but decided not to press it. He thought for a bit and went back to his room. He stared at the screen, and it was still showing the same situation: the man laying on the floor.

He gazed at his phone again, and against his better judgment, pressed the link again.

Suddenly, the phone’s screen went black, and after a while, it showed the same prompt:

image [https://i.imgur.com/80EbZI4.png]

He gulped as his hands slightly trembled. But still, his thumb motioned slowly and pressed the right option this time. The screen changed.

image [https://i.imgur.com/4wBmCPb.png]

He decided, just for the sake of it, to write his own name. If there was something he prided himself on in this messy and low life of his, it was that he at least shouldered his problems by himself. If some shit happened, well, it was on him.

After steeling himself, he pressed enter.

image [https://i.imgur.com/eZkY4Fm.png]

A deep sigh of relief escaped him. He kept looking at the screen, thoughts racing through his mind.

Unable to contain himself, he started typing again. He tried plain, popular names without surnames, but it showed no results. After a while, he was about to just turn his phone off and see if he could get out of it, but then decided, for no reason at all, to put in the name of the only friend he knew the full name of.

He pressed enter.

The screen turned black.

A white room.

image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]

After his tears dried up, Alonso looked ahead.

He had survived then. He survived now. Might as well continue whatever the fuck this was.

He looked at his wrists and fists. His body felt in very good condition.

He had no idea if what he had passed through was an induced dream, an illusion, or something else, but whatever it was, it had affected his body in some way.

He looked at the wall ahead and, in a blink, sprinted right at it.

He was fast. Very fast. As he reached it, he managed to stop just in time. He looked up at the ceiling. Considering his own height and the difference, he reckoned it should be a bit over 3 meters. He crouched and then jumped straight up, stretching his hand. He easily managed to touch it with his palm wide open.

While not a superhuman feat, he knew he could not do that before, not even before the accident. He was not that tall either, falling just a bit under 6 feet.

He clenched his fist. He could feel he was in better physical condition than he ever was before.

Not that it made him happy.

His face turned serious as he walked to the barrel with water and fruits. The fruits were more varied than on the previous floor. They had bananas, apples, mangoes, oranges, and some fruits he knew about but had forgotten the names of.

He ate them all.

He went to the barrel with water and started drinking. He suddenly remembered he had brought a barrel up. What had happened to that? Did it fade along with the knife?

In any case, he kept on drinking water.

It was at a good temperature and relieved him well. He then looked at the stairs ahead and was prepared to bring the barrel up with him again, just in case, but then he felt weird. His body felt weird. No… it was his stomach.

He went to relieve himself in a corner, but it was worse than ever before. And the smell was horrendous. It was pitch black too.

“What the…”

He then noticed some black substance was oozing from his skin, like sweat but darker and much more smelly.

It was disgusting.

He shook his head and undressed near the barrel, using the water to clean himself. With nothing else to use to scrub, he used his own hands.

In moments like this, he missed the commodities of modern world bathrooms with their fancy smells and products.

After he finished, he noticed there was no more substance coming out. He also felt more relieved, better.

It was weird. Like all of this.

He went back and picked up the barrel.

He continued to climb.