11:54 PM

The remnant of a booming rumble echoed through her skull. The sharp piercings of shattered glass poked her gentle skin. Droplets of crimson blood fell and splattered onto the cold, unwelcoming tiles. A strange fluid seeped from a strange platform and filled the nearby area. In the center of the platform was a young girl. She bore chocolate-painted hair and her eyes glimmered with both red and blue. Her left eye held a dark, ruby tint while her right was sky blue. She was wrapped in a white blanket, which had now been stained hideous crimson. The girl had no name — at least that she could recall — and she was asleep, lying on the frigid platform surrounded by that unknown liquid.

It was the alarm that woke her. Like unceasing trumpets, the horns blared as red lights came and went, draping the room in blood and then stopping, only to continue once more. She felt deaf for a moment while her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings; yet, as the girl thought she realized that she could not remember any others. Was this home? She pondered the question for only a second before jolting to the next. Where am I? Who am I? She panicked. Why can’t I remember? She had memories, but they were whispers of a past shrouded in fog. Her breaths quickened as she examined the environment. The walls were built of a shiny stone and the rain that poured from outside — which she had just now noticed — cast shadows onto it. Countertops were attached to the walls; they harbored very little other than scattered documents, files, and a single computer. The screen was black and only flashed the words SECURITY BREACH in large red letters. Above and below the countertops were cabinets. They looked old and their wood was dark and crooked. A single window sat in the room. It was odd, but she couldn’t quite place why. The strangest — and scariest — thing, however, was that the room had no exit. It was a stone tomb that encased her.

The alarm didn’t stop. Now that her ears had adjusted to the alarm’s volume, she thought she could hear sounds outside the room. Screams. They were faint, barely noticeable unless you sought them — but they were there. Where am I? The question surfaced again. At first, she wondered if she was kidnapped and placed in some underground bunker for some vile man to have his way with her; yet, the relentless rain contradicted her theory. Her head twisted towards the window. It beckoned her. She stumbled over to the window — her legs felt like wobbling towers. She peered out.

She was high up — three or four stories above the ground. A parking lot was below her brimming with cars, though she didn’t recognize any. Even if she had, it would have been difficult. The night was young, but the moon was in a waning crescent. The streetlights appeared to be dysfunctional and there were no roads. Trees enveloped the area outside of the parking lot. The building she was in was grey and made of a concrete-like substance. It nearly looked like a prison. For now, though, she sighed a breath of relief that she wasn’t trapped in a cabin deep in the woods.

Her eyes spotted a speaker in the corner of the room. The emergency alarm boomed from the speaker, its sound waves bouncing back and forth and back and forth in both the room and in her ears. The alarm irritated her. She hopped onto one of the counters, avoiding touching any of the electronics, and gripped the box-like device. Wires connected it to the wall. In a decisive motion, the girl tore the speaker from its corner and tossed it onto the floor. The alarm stopped — at least from within the room. She still heard echoes of it from outside, but it wasn’t nearly as loud as it had been. The muffled sirens, however, confirmed an important aspect of her prison — there had to be an escape.

Her first thought led her to the computer. The flashing text stared into her soul. She grabbed the mouse and clicked on the screen. In a flash, the text disappeared and was replaced by a prompt. INSERT ACCESS KEY was written in bold, red letters. She sighed with displeasure and began ruffling through the folders and files littered on the countertop. They all had the similar labels attached to them: “CH-0152” or “CH-0091”. The numbers varied from one to one hundred fifty-eight, but they all shared the same prefix — “CH”. She opened one of the files — this one labeled “CH-0158”. Inside the dusty folder were unintelligible strings of large words she couldn’t understand. This folder only had two papers, unlike the others which had papers spewing from them, which was the reason she was drawn to it. She noted that the words, although unknown to her, were scientific. The first paper she looked at appeared to be an experiment sheet. The second was more of a preliminary update on what she assumed to have been the experiment’s results. Neither paper contained any information that would gift her a password. She tossed the folder onto the ground, which soaked into the liquid layered above the ground. The papers curled in retaliation to whatever fluid spread across the floor.

The girl quickly noticed two things as she watched the folder. She was intrigued by the strange watery substance that appeared throughout the room. It was almost green — like how lime-infused water looked. It didn’t feel acidic, at least from what she could tell. As far as she knew, it could have just been dyed water. The second thing she realized was that she was bleeding — her blood dripped down from her arms and into the liquid, altering its hue. She hadn’t felt the pain until then. Her single garment grew thicker every second as it absorbed more blood. She bit her lip to help pause the increasing amounts of pain wriggling throughout her body. She needed to stop the bleeding.

The girl hobbled down and began opening the lower array of cabinets hiding beneath the countertop. The cabinets held the illusion of having locks, yet they seemed so old that she thought the locks must have broken by now. She peered into the first. Dusty vials were lined up on trays. Inside the vials were colored fluids, ranging from a thick, dark bloody red to a more clear red similar in viscosity to the liquid that had poured onto the floor. Below that were round trays of dead insects whose bodies were decaying. They were mostly flies and beetles; they appeared as though they had been dead for months. She cringed at the sight of them and shut the door. The next cabinet held experimental supplies — beakers, microscopes, and other similar items. Dust viciously clung to each object. Below them, however, was a single bandage wrap. It had clearly been used before, but she didn’t care.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She wrapped both arms with the bandage; her arms squeezed from the tightness. Slowly, the musky brown became darker and redder. It will do for now. Next, she unraveled the white cloak around her and applied the bandage to her chest and abdomen. Glass shards had nestled into her skin, which she removed. After wrapping herself, she reapplied the blood-stained cloak, nearly turning it into a short dress. She breathed for a moment, closing her eyes. I’m okay now. But she wasn’t. She knew within the recesses of her mind that things couldn’t be okay. She awoke in a cold prison, stuck in the middle of the woods as screams of terror fought to reach her through the impenetrable stone walls.

By now the girl understood one fact that terrified her. I was about to be experimented on. She assumed it had been related to the lime, watery liquid she was soaked in. Whatever it was, it drained away her experiences, her friends, and her family. They weren’t completely eradicated, though, as tingling whispers of distant memories stretched outwards toward her. She retained many basic skills and intuitions, she noted. She knew what a computer was and how to use it, so clearly the intent of the experiment was not to remove a person’s every thought. It intrigued her for a moment. What were they going to do to me? No. Focus.

The girl wiggled in place, motivating herself to continue. I need to get into that computer. She approached the desk again, examining the computer to try and spot any labels that might aid her. A bundle of colored wires stretched from the back of the computer and ventured deep into a hole in the wall, spiraling away into nothingness. The monitor had no labels — the computer was boxy and combined the monitor and desktop into one large cube. It was dusty and tan, although it looked as though it had been white at some point. She turned back towards the stacks of papers littered on the countertop. As she examined the countless experiments, an idea crept into her mind. She tilted towards the computer. Access Key. The girl hunched down over the keyboard and typed “CH-0158”. The computer responded. “Access Granted to File: CH-0158. Welcome Dr. Young!” She clenched her fist in success.

As she predicted, she was not granted full access to the computer. In fact, the password acted more as a gateway to the different experiment logs rather than as an actual desktop. She could not see door controls or anything similar; however, a time was listed in the top right corner of the screen: 11:54 PM. No date was displayed, but she figured that having the actual time of day was a step forward in figuring out what was going on. Upon the screen were layers of information outlined in a detailed document not dissimilar from the papers she found lying on the table. She scanned through the information on the screen.

Patient Name: Autumn Finch

Trial Number: #CH-0158

Trial Summary: The modified Sunset Serum had few negative effects on the patient. After injection, the serum appeared to take five minutes to enter the bloodstream and reach the brain as the peak of the patient's brain activity occurred around that time. Reducing the acetylcholine levels in the serum looked to have been the main source of #CH-0157’s sudden outburst as #CH-0158 did not have the same reaction. Depending on the outcome of #CH-0158, managing those levels will become the next essential step in adjusting the serum.

The initial phase of the trial will end in two days, an update will be provided if the subject lives to that point.

There was nothing after that. No log. No text. Just a half-page of a vacant, white screen. She shuddered. The girl stood there for a while. Her mind raced with hundreds of thoughts. She was angry. She was sad. She was hopeless. She was vigorous. The girl didn’t understand why. This place is evil. This is wrong. She didn’t know Autumn Finch. She didn’t know her life; she didn’t even know what she looked like. She didn’t know her story. And now no one would. It was evil. Dr. Young. That was his name. Or her name. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. For a moment, she forgot about her situation. Her prison. Young would pay. Maybe they already did. She turned toward the door.

The alarms and screaming had slowed. Instead, it was replaced by the uncomfortable whispers of an air conditioner. At least I won’t suffocate. The liquid flowed past her legs. That’s odd. The girl was surprised that the fluid hadn’t settled by now. There weren’t drains or anything similar that would cause the liquid to keep moving. She paused and turned around, trying to follow its flow. The liquid traveled to the empty stone wall in front of her. It appeared to seep below the wall, under an invisible crack she couldn’t see. It was escaping.

The girl approached the blank, stone wall. To her right, the shadows of the persisting raindrops were painted into the room. The room was momentarily flooded in a blinding light. The storm’s getting worse. She placed her hand against the wall and knocked. The stone hurt her hand, but she felt the wall’s hollowness. It’s a door. The sound of thunder crashed into the room. The girl breathed deeply. She placed her hands against the wall and pushed. The wall was mostly unresponsive, though she noticed it had moved in a half–inch or so. She breathed again and leaned, putting her weight on the wall.

As the wall moved, it scratched the ground with a loud screech. The girl winced as the wall inched forward. It was attached to a mechanism of some sort as the wall began to slide right. The girl pivoted and shoved the wall to the right. Her arms ached, but after a minute, the wall had slid into a slot carved into the building. She had escaped the room. Her victory, however, was abruptly cut short.

Her sight was obscured. In front of her was a thick crimson gas that covered the entire room — or hallway. She wasn’t sure what it was. She stopped, squinting her eyes to try and discern anything through the gas. As she did, she stumbled forward. Her eyes drooped. I’m losing consciousness. She fell onto a wall — it was cold and smooth. Her arms slid down the wall as her eyes closed, the gas completely consuming her.