“Please, sit.” – said John calmly. The situation was tense for only one of them as John had no idea that Urien was holding on to the key to the same gun locker which was in the room with them.
“All I need to do is distract him for a moment.” – Urien thought to himself, and without wasting further precious seconds, asked John about a poster on the wall which he had noticed. The poster looked like an ad for a soda campaign, and to be fair, it was out of place in a seemingly stripped-down and monotone building like this. All that could be made of the name on the poster ad were the letters “S” and “p”.
“I’ll sit John, but what’s up with that random ad on the wall? Seems kind of out of place, doesn’t it?”
John turned around, looked at the odd poster and started talking. “This place we are in, which I am about to explain to you right now, used to be a facility of some sorts. Some relics of the past remain, like that poster. If you ask me, it’s got a certain character to it…”
John kept on talking about the poster all distracted while Urien kept his distance, slowly getting closer and closer to the glass cabinet containing the shotgun. In a lightning-fast movement of both of his arms, he took out the key, opened the cabinet / gun locker with it and slid the shotgun straight into his hands. John turned around upon hearing the cabinet door unlock and what he saw amazed and shook him.
“Okay, Urien, calm down. We didn’t come to this room for that.” – John uttered in a shaky and scared voice.
“I’m already sick of this place, John. And I won’t stop holding this shotgun aimed straight at your face until you tell me what the hell is going on here, do you understand? – said Urien, knowing he had all the power in the world in his hands currently. John worryingly replied: “I promise you that that shotgun you’re holding onto is no good, Urien. Give it back to me.” At this moment, John started approaching Urien slowly with an extended hand. “Just… Give it to me, okay? You can also slide it down to me across the floor as well, I promise you Urien, I’ll forget any of this happened. Calm down.” – are the words which came from John’s mouth and were also the same words that confirmed to Urien that he was the one in control of the situation here. He was the one with the shotgun in his hands, after all.
“Step one more step forward, and I WILL shoot you John, I’m serious. Start giving me the answers right now. Do you hear me under that gas mask, John? Or do you not!?” – Urien exclaimed loudly, putting emphasis on the fact that he really was ready to shoot John if he didn’t get what he was asking for.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
John, trying to be as calm as possible, told him: “You won’t shoot me, Urien, you won’t. So, let’s lay off on the death threats, how does that sound to you?”
Thus commended a fatal mistake by John. He took a step forward towards Urien, which he warned him not to do anymore. He really wasn’t just “playing around” and acting tough in front of the mysterious gasmask wearing John. He stood back a second, and without a second thought, pulled the trigger on John, aiming straight for his face (or, if you would rather, his gasmask).
The gun malfunctioned. Urien was so sure it had ammunition inside of it, he even checked multiple times while keeping his distance from John.
John started laughing, almost uncontrollably. Through the laughter, he managed to utter just one sentence, while Urien stood back, scared for his life because his plan hadn’t worked out. “Ahahahaha… This is the twelfth time you’ve tried the same thing! Ahahahaha!”
Urien was confused while his heart was pounding and pumping as fast as it could. Was he about to be punished? What did the words John just said to him even mean?
“Welcome to the next LOOP, Urien.” These were the words that John told Urien in the cafeteria the moment they met all those minutes ago, which at this point, felt like hours to him. Was he reliving the same thing repeatedly, in a “loop”? These thoughts made Urien uneasy. So uneasy in fact that he dropped the shotgun to the floor and followed that with intense staring at his own hands. He was probably counting his fingers to see if this was a dream or something of sorts. Who could know what was going through his mind at this moment? Only himself. After only being awake for a moment, Urien felt the biggest defeat of his life.
“What … is happening to me?” – Urien uttered in a defeated voice. It could be heard that he was on the verge of bursting into a river of tears. John, at this point, was still laughing. Suddenly he stopped laughing and told the depressed Urien, in an almost robotic tone: “Entry TEST, TEST #001, failed. Failed attempts: twelve across twelve LOOPs (so far).”
Urien said nothing. He stayed radio silent for the next ten minutes, crumbled up on the floor. In those ten minutes, he heard John writing something, probably with a pen. John also turned on some classical music, which Urien assumed was probably via the vinyl player he saw when he first entered the room.
“Have you had your moment long enough, man? Seems to me like you have. It HAS been like ten minutes, you know? I guess you aren’t tracking time, considering the utter disappointment you just lived through. Do you want me to explain what just happened or have you remembered?” – said John.
Urien stood up and took a seat in the very chair John told him to take a seat in 15 minutes ago. The atmosphere was almost positive, weirdly enough; ignoring the fact that a murder attempt took place in that same room moments ago.