Novels2Search
The Chosen Dead
The Corridor of Compliance

The Corridor of Compliance

Ahead of them stood an industrial unit, its gates shut tight, save for a faint glow emanating from the top floor. The parking lot was empty. Without a sound, the heavy metal gate slid open as their car approached, welcoming them into its hollow silence.

“This way,” the man in the passenger seat ordered as he stepped out and pulled open the door.

One by one, they climbed out of the car. The air was stale, tinged with metal and dust. The entrance was a long, featureless corridor bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. As they formed a silent line, the driver exited the car and took his place among them.

The first officer led the way to the entrance.The door opened automatically.

A man, dressed identically to the supervisor, Ivan, and the two escorts, stood waiting.

“Good day. I need to perform a search on all of you.”

Without protest, the officers in their group began stripping down. First, their shirts. Then their trousers. Each movement looks mechanical . Beneath their uniforms, they all wore the same plain undergarments. Then, one by one, they peeled off their socks.

Barefoot, clad only in undershirts and pants, they stood in silence. The supervisor’s were red and white checkered, standing out amongst the dull shades of black, white, and grey. Ivan’s were frayed at the edges, worn thin from time.

K hesitated. “And what about me? Am I supposed to do the same?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The man gave no reply.

K let out a strained laugh. “I don’t like this. It makes me look… ridiculous. I always wear pajamas to bed. Some people sleep like this, sure, but this is absurd.”

Still, silence.

“You have to do what we did,” their escort finally said. “We can’t proceed otherwise.”

“This is ridiculous,” K snapped. “I’ve gone along with your rules, I’ve been patient. I should be at work right now, not—”

“My duty,” the man doing the search interrupted, “is to ensure you strip down and proceed inside. You must not carry anything… dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” K scoffed. “You’re making your own colleagues do the same! What could possibly—”

“Weapons are dangerous. Books are dangerous. Thoughts are dangerous. I have to check everything.”

The supervisor sighed. “It won’t end well for you if you resist. Just do the same.”

Thoughts are dangerous.

The words settled uncomfortably in K’s mind. Wasn’t this just an interview? Weren’t they simply gathering statements? He was supposed to clear his name and leave. That’s what this was, wasn’t it?

His mind drifted—back to his apartment, a simple cold cereal bowl with a cup of tea, the email he still needed to send, the manager who would not accept an unannounced absence. Perhaps, if he explained, if he came up with an excuse—

His hands moved on their own. Shirt off. Trousers off. Shoes and socks discarded.

He stepped in line with the others, and together, they moved forward. The corridor tightened around them, growing narrower with each turn. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly. Concrete walls stretched endlessly ahead, each intersection indistinguishable from the last.

There was nowhere to turn back.

They simply followed their escort, deeper into the unknown.