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The Platform II
Part 1: The Floors of Hell

Part 1: The Floors of Hell

“Ma’am?”

“Excuse me, ma’am?” 

“Huh?” Jess responds, brushing her long brown hair out of her ocean blue eyes. 

“Why are you signing up for this program?” the lady across from her asks. She regards Jess with slight exhaustion, clearly it's not her first interview today.

“I need money to pay for my daughter’s medical bills, she was injured in a car crash” Jess explains.

“I see, how much exactly would you need?” the interviewer questions.

“About ten thousand, that would be enough to cover the costs.”

“Alright, and what is your favourite food?” the interviewer asks as she scribbles on a pad of paper.

“My favourite food?” Jess asks, a little confused “I would have to say a nice roasted ham, why?”

“Your meal of choice will be available during the duration of your stay” the interviewer explains, clicking her pen rhythmically. “Based on your request of ten thousand dollars, your stay will be four months long. To cover extraneous costs, we will credit you twenty thousand. You will be driven to the facility at 3pm this weekend, on Saturday.”

“Okay” Jess responds, “what exactly will I be doing at this facility?”

“It’s an experimental prison, you will be one of the inmates along with various other people. Oh, you also get to bring one personal item of your choice, what would that be?” 

“Uh… I would like to bring a framed photo of my daughter, to remind me of why I’m doing this” Jess says, chuckling slightly.

“Alright, I have your name and information. A driver will come by your house to take you to the facility, we will prepare you for entrance once you arrive” the interviewer explains, clicking her pen and standing up from the table. Jess stands up as well, extending her hand to shake the interviewer’s. She regards it for a moment before extending hers.

“Thank you” Jess says, with a look of relief. “This will help my family greatly.”

“Sure” the interviewer says coldly, before turning around and walking out the blue exit doors. Jess watches for a moment before leaving as well. She smiles slightly on her way out, thankful for the opportunity.

*

Hours before her set time to arrive, Jess stands at the door with her sister and her wheelchair-ridden daughter. Her sister stands behind the wheelchair, while Jess is putting her shoes on. She looks up at her daughter and smiles. “Auntie will take care of you, okay baby?” she says, finishes putting her shoe on and gives her daughter a kiss on the forehead. “Won’t you, sis?”

“Of course Jess, we are gonna have a great four months together, aren’t we?” she says, looking down to Jess’s daughter with a smile. 

“Yeah” she responds, looking a bit distraught. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, baby. Mommy will be back before you know it” Jess says, leaning down and pinching her cheek.

“Okay, mommy” her daughter responds, giggling a bit. 

“Jess, wait” her sister says, with a tone of concern.

“Sharia, please” Jess says bluntly, cutting her off “I know what I’m doing, I would do anything for her.”

“You don’t even know anything about this,” Sharia argues.

“I know enough. No cost is too much” Jess says, shutting down any further argument.

“I hope you’re right,” Sharia says, giving a look of distrust. A horn honks twice from outside. Jess peaks out the window by the door and sees a white van has pulled up outside.

“I have to go, I love you both,” Jess says, blowing a kiss.

“Bye! We love you too” Sharia says, waving at Jess as she walks out the door. Her daughter waves as well, but does not speak. Jess closes the door behind her and walks down the steps towards the van on her driveway. A man stands in front of the van and approaches Jess.

“Jessica Sanchez?” the tall brown haired man asks. He gets within a few steps of Jess, but does not proceed further, seeing a look of slight distrust across her face.

“Jess will do just fine,” she responds. “Who are you?”

“I will be driving you to your appointment, are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling politely. 

“Yes, but what’s with the van?” Jess asks, with a visible look of discomfort.

“The location of the facility must remain unknown, so we have to escort you in a windowless van. Worry not, the back is comfortable. Complimentary snacks, drinks, and satellite television!” He smiles at Jess, and opens the sliding door to reveal a couple leather seats along with a fridge and a surprisingly large television on the wall. Jess seems reluctant for a moment, but walks over anyways. The driver puts out his hand offering to help her up, but she ignores it and climbs in. She sits on one of the seats and looks back at the driver who is standing in front of the door. “The ride will take about 45 minutes, so sit back and relax! If you need anything, just holler.” Jess raises her eyebrows and nods her head slightly, turning away. The driver slides the door shut and climbs into the front seat a few seconds later. He starts the van and pulls out of the driveway, into the street. Jess rummages through the various bags of chips and snacks in a box beside the seat, looking for anything worthwhile. Eventually, she stops and turns on the T.V. to a random sitcom. She sits for a while, before opening her purse and removing the framed picture of her daughter. Her daughter sits in front of a smeared blue background, wearing her school uniform. A smile is plastered across her face. 

For you, baby Jess thinks, holding the photo to her chest and looking upwards. She looks back down at the photo, before tucking it away and looking back at the cheesy sitcom playing on the screen. Jess breathes out heavily and settles in for the rest of the ride.

*

After a long forty-five minutes, the door to the van slides open. The driver stands in front of the open door, looking at Jess. “We have arrived, are you ready?”

“Ready as I'll ever be” Jess sighs, while climbing out of her seat. The driver stands aside as Jess steps out of the van, into a fairly full parking lot in front of a large grey building, reaching a few stories high. She looks around the area, seeing that the building is completely surrounded by high concrete walls, with trees peaking out beyond it. The driver gestures Jess to follow him towards the doors, and she begins walking with him. 

“Do you have your personal item with you?” the driver asks, while pulling open the facility door. Jess double checks the photo is in her purse and grunts affirmation. She steps through the facility doors into a waiting room with a bunch of chairs on the right, and a desk on the left with the word “Processing” on a sign above the desk. “Good luck” the driver says, letting go of the door and walking away. 

“Please take a seat, we will be right with you” the man at the desk says, without turning away from his computer screen. Jess gives a slight nod and sits in the far corner, away from the two other people waiting in the room. She regards the man sitting closest to the desk for a moment. His exposed arms are covered in various tattoos, lining the curves of his muscles. He sits and stares at the wall without blinking, his expression hidden in his large beard. Jess looks to the man's right to see a sword sheathed in a leather scabbard. She shifts uncomfortable and clutches her purse close to her body, while still staring at the man. The man suddenly blinks and shifts his gaze over to Jess, but she quickly looks away. The man stares at her for a few seconds before the receptionist calls out a name and he stands up, grabbing his sword. The receptionist speaks some words to the man indistinctly, before the man turns and walks through the blue set of doors beyond the desk.

Twenty minutes pass as Jess waits, the only other person waiting having already been called in. Finally the receptionist looks over and calls her over. She stands and walks towards the desk where the receptionist is sitting. “Hello Jess, please head through those doors to my left and walk all the way to the end of the hallway” he explains, looking blankly at her.

“Okay” Jess mumbles, walking off. She pushes through the blue doors into a long white hallway with another set of doors way at the end. A large man in a security uniform is waiting there. She walks all the way to the end and the man holds out his hand, gesturing to her to stop.

“Last chance to change your mind” he says in a gruff voice, looking past Jess.

“No, I am going to do this,” Jess says with determination.

“Alright, go through these doors, place all your belongings in one of the grey bins, strip down to your undergarments, and stand against the wall with the yellow line parallel to it” the main explains, holding open the door. Jess walks through into a room with a stack of grey bins on a metal table. She places her purse and phone into one of the bins, and shifts it to the left. She then removes her clothing and puts it into another bin with her shoes. Jess steps away and walks over to the left hand wall and stands behind the yellow line. A short middle-aged woman walks in from a door behind the metal table and steps towards Jess.

“Jessica Sanchez, please put on these clothes and walk through the door over there” she says, handing her a bag of bland grey clothes and gesturing to the door at the back of the room. Jess pulls on the clothing and walks towards the door, but stops just before opening it. 

“What about my personal item?” she asks, turning back to look at the short woman.

“You will get it within twenty-four hours once we have checked it for any recording devices” she explains to Jess, collecting her grey bins. Jess looks at her for a few seconds, before walking through the door into a cramped hallway. A glass window rests in the left side with a metal speaker in it. Another door lies a few feet in front of her, with a small window looking into a dormitory. 

“Proceed through the door after the beep, choose an empty bed and get in it, avoid interacting with any other inmates” a man explains through the intercom, “understood?”

“Yes” Jess says, gulping. A loud buzzer goes off and the door in front of her unlocks. She pushes through into a large room with a couple dozen white beds, with people dressed exactly like her on most of them. They look at her as she walks into the room, making her step back slightly. She walks over to the left hand corner where an empty bed sits well made. She sits down in it and looks directly across from herself to see the man from the waiting room sitting in the bed. He stares directly at her, unblinking. Jess shifts her gaze away, but he keeps staring without moving. The room is filled with various people of different ages and sizes, all sitting quietly in their beds. Jess notes that there appears to be no kids in the room, she feels almost relieved at the fact.

Jess continues to sit, losing herself to thought occasionally until a speaker in the corner of the room lets out a shrill and a voice follows right after. “Please lie down in your beds” a monotone voice says. The lights in the room dim and everyone settles into their beds. The old woman to Jess’ right whimpers slightly, shifting around in her bed.

“Hey” Jess whispers towards the woman. She stops shifting and turns towards Jess, though she can’t see her face. “You’re gonna be okay, don’t worry” Jess says, soothingly. The speaker shrills again immediately after.

“Do not speak to your fellow inmates,” the voice says sternly. The old woman turns away from Jess, but does not make another sound. Jess shifts to lie face up in her bed and pulls the covers up to her chest. She lets out a sigh and closes her eyes. She hears a slight hissing sound for a few seconds and falls asleep moments after.

*

“Guh!” Jess exclaims, sitting up suddenly. She looks around quickly at the room, seeing she is now in a medium sized square concrete room. She stands up from the sleeping block, knocking her photo onto the ground. She spins around around multiple times, completely dazed and confused. “What is going on?” she yells, walking around sporadically.

“Watch yourself, darlin’,” a voice says from the other side of the room. Jess turns around and looks at a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache, sitting on a bed block on the other side of the room. 

“What?” she asks, still visibly confused. He gestures with his eyes to the middle of the room, below her feet. Jess looks down and gasps while stumbling back. She looks back at the man and then steps forward and peers down into an unending abyss. Unending rows of rooms exactly like the one she stands in continue downwards into the darkness, each one with a rectangular hole directly in the center. She looks to see the same thing, though fewer in number. A couple people in the rows up are peering down at her. “What is this? Where am I?” Jess asks with urgency.

“First time, huh?” the older man says, “settle in, Darlin’. You got lucky this time around.”

“What do you mean?” Jess questions. The man gestures to the left hand wall. Jess looks over to see a large number written on the wall. 

“Twelve?” Jess asks, “what does that mean?”

“That’s the floor we’re on and it ain’t too shabby. We get close to first pickin’.”

“What do you mean?” Jess asks, giving the man a look of pure confusion.

“Once per day, a platform will descend from above with food. It stops at each floor for some time ‘fore continuing downwards,” the man explains, “the lower it goes, the less food there is. Lucky for us, we’re close to the top.”

“So the people way down there won’t get to eat?” Jess asked, appalled. 

“Maybe, maybe not” the man shrugs, “depends how things workout.”

“We should ration the food, so everyone can eat!” Jess pleads. The man chuckles and shakes his head.

“Many before you have tried the exact same thing, Darlin’. It never lasts.” Jess looks at him as if she is about to speak, but turns away without uttering a word. “Settle in and get comfortable, it's gonna be a long, long stay” the man says. Jess walks over to her bed block, accidentally kicking her photo she knocked over. She gasps and bends down to pick it up. She hesitates, before turning the photo over. 

Sighing in relief, Jess mutters “Thank jesus, the glass didn’t break.” She sits down onto her bed block, setting the photo down beside her pillow. 

“Who’s the photo of?” the man asks, pointing his shaky hand.

“It’s my daughter” Jess responds, looking at the photo with adoration.

“She’s a cute one, how old is she?”

“She turns six in a couple months” Jess responds, looking over to the man. He gives her a polite smile.

“I hope you’ll be out in time for that,” he says kindly. Jess smiles at the man and turns away, knowing she wouldn’t. She adjusts to lie down in her bed and looks up at the plain grey ceiling, falling deeply into her thoughts. She turns over to look over at the man again and notices she has not seen a personal item around him. 

“Hey” Jess calls out to the man.

“Howdy” the man responds.

“What did you bring with you?” she asks. The man gestures to below his bed block, to a long object with a large end.

“My guitar” he says, reaching down and pulling out a beautifully crafted acoustic guitar. He begins plucking at the cords with his shaky hands.

“A guitar? Why?” Jess questions, raising her eyebrow.

“I thought it would be easier to make friends this way,” the man begins explaining, “and if that didn’t work out, I could give them a beatin’ with it.” The man chuckles and shakes his head, “Haven’t had to do the second one yet.”

“You any good?” Jess asks. The man sets the guitar back under his bed block and puts his hands on his knees.

“Some might say so. Maybe I’ll play some after we feast.” The man stands from his bed and slightly limps over to the rusty sink. He takes a look at himself in the filthy mirror and drinks some water from the tap, before limping back and sitting down. Jess watches him, and considers asking him about his leg, but decides to avoid it for now. She worries what might set people off, given what the man said about “giving a beating.” Adjusting back to facing the ceiling, Jess falls deeply into her thoughts.

*

The glow of multiple monitors lights up the face of a dishevelled looking man. He shifts his gaze occasionally, looking at a different screen each time. The screens appear similar, each with nine videos of a grey room with a bed on either side and a sink on the far wall. The rooms appear to have varying numbers of people within them, while others have none at all. Some with only parts. He continues watching, unphased by the content of the videos, until a voice shakes him. 

“Hmm?” he mumbles, shifting his gaze from the screens to a man peeking into the dark room from the metal door behind him. 

“Daryl, They want a status report on the numbers,” the man explains. Daryl nods to him and looks over at a monitor with various numbers on a black background. 

“220 levels were filled with 439 people, thirty of which have killed themselves or been killed. It has only been a few hours so far, the food has yet to descend today,” Daryl explains to the man. 

“And the…” the man asks, getting cut off by Daryl.

“She’s on floor fifty four, without a cell mate, sir.”

“Thank you,” the man says, closing the door and walking off. Daryl turns back around to look at the monitors, seeing that little has changed in the past couple minutes. He checks his watch and then presses a button on his headset.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Sir, are the meals ready?” Daryl asks through the microphone at his chin. 

“Yes” a posh voice responds.

“Launch” Daryl says, disconnecting his connection to the other line. He gazes at the top right corner of the far right monitor and sees two men set their pillows on the ground beside the hole in their room. The platform slows to a stop in front of them and they begin tearing the food a part, spilling everywhere. One of them chugs an entire bottle of wine in seconds. Daryl scoffs and leans back in his seat, holding his gaze. He continues watching as the platform shifts from screen to screen, descending to each floor, with less food each time. Daryl writes 86 on a pad of paper beside him. Various other numbers are crossed off on the paper.

*

*Beeep*

Jess suddenly jumps out of her bed block slightly, as a loud buzzer goes off. She looks over to the pit to see a large block slowly descending through her room. Her roommate is kneeling before the pit, looking directly at her. “Time to eat” he says, unclasping his hands. Jess stands to her feet and watches the platform slow to a stop over top of the hole. She stares at all the food on top, some sloppily eaten and completely finished, while other things remain untouched. Her roommate whispers indistinctly, before diving into the food. He rips through various meats and drowns it down with half drunk wine. He pauses slightly and looks at Jess. “You gonna eat?” he says, with his mouth still full.

“I’m not feeling too hungry right now,” she says, looking a bit green. The man looks back down at his food.

“Suit yourself, darlin’. just know you can’t change your mind later” the man mumbles, still shovelling food into his mouth. Jess wanders over to the sink and drinks from the tap, trying her best to ignore the repulsive sounds emanating from the man. She stares at her blurry reflection in the poor quality mirror, seeing her face contort with the sounds of food getting chewed. She steps back and peers over at all the food, considering whether she should eat or not. A plate of pasta remains untouched in the corner with some fruits beside it. Jess wanders over and crouches down by the plate, regarding the white sauce drenched noodles. 

“Are there any forks or…” Jess begins to ask.

“No,” the man says, briefly looking up at Jess. She looks at the man, still feeling a bit queasy. I need to eat, she thinks, trying to get over her nausea. Her hand scoops up a large helping of noodles and slowly shovels it into her mouth. Jess’ eyes light up a bit, as the sauce coats her tongue. Her roommate chuckles slightly, seeing Jess’ mood change instantly. She finishes chewing and shoves another handful of pasta into her gullet, consuming with enthusiasm. Her face becomes caked with sauce, the more she eats.

A few minutes pass as the two engorge themselves with rich foods, until the buzzer goes off again and the platform starts descending. Jess, who happens to be leaning on the platform, wobbles as it shifts. She regains her balance and moves away, watching the platform descend to floor thirteen. She looks up to the man and says “that was the best pasta I’ve had in years!” The man chuckles, shaking his head slightly.

“Wait till you try the rest. One star seating always, five star meals sometimes” he says, smiling at Jess. He wanders over to the sink and starts drinking. Jess gets up moments later and sits on the edge of her bed block. 

“Oh” she exclaims, feeling her arm hairs stand up. “What’s going on?”

“You can’t keep food after the platform leaves” he says, gesturing to his left cheek. Jess touches her cheek and realizes a couple noodles are stuck in the sauce on her face. She sees her breath quicken as she scrapes the sauce and noodles off her face. The man points to the pit with urgency and she tosses the noodles down. They wait a moment, but the temperature keeps dropping. “Wash the sauce off your face!” the man yells, stepping away from the sink. Jess runs over and splashes water all over her face, scrubbing the sauce away. She looks in the mirror and sees nothing left on her cheeks.

“Did it work?” Jess asks in a panic. The man breaths out and sees nothing.

“Yeah, we’re good.” He sighs in relief and limps over to his bed to sit down. Jess does the same. They look at each other for a moment, before they both start laughing. They keep laughing for a few seconds before tapering off and they look back at each other. The man smiles and says “Nothin’ like a bit of craziness to ease the nerves, am I right?” Jess chuckles a bit.

“I guess so” she says, smiling at the man. “Hey, you never told me your name.”

“John” he says, still smiling at Jess. “You never told me yours either.”

“Jess. it’s nice to meet you John” she responds.

“Likewise, Jess” John says, “you’re a hell of a lot nicer than most of the rodents I’ve met here.” Jess looks at him quizzically.

“How long have you been here?” she asks. He sits up from the wall he leans on.

“I think this is my fourth month now, it’s also the highest floor I’ve been on” he explains, running his left hand over his knee.

“What other floors have you been on?” Jess asks with a look of curiosity in her eyes. 

“Hmmm… my first month I was on floor 56, then I was on 30, and then 78” John explains, looking a bit tense. 

“Did you get any food down there?” Jess pries. 

“Sort of, most of it was partially eaten or completely gone” he says, “some days we would be eating some of the last pieces of food, a couple of days it was all gone before we got any.”

“Wow, no wonder you were eating so fiercely today” Jess exclaims, “what about your cellmate?”

“He made it to the end of the month just fine, don’t rightly know where he might be now” John responds. He reaches below his bed and pulls the guitar out. “Wanna hear me play?”

“Sure,” Jess responds, a bit taken aback by the sudden change in topic. She thinks about all the people below who won’t get to eat because of people higher up like her, but gets distracted. John begins strumming a rhythmic somber tune. Jess walks over to the pit and sits on the edge, watching John strum the guitar. His shaky hands seem so calm now, Jess notices. The people in the room above come and sit on the edge of their hole as well, listening to John play. He plays for a while, calming the nerves of the inmates that can hear him. Jess feels the tension in her stress-ridden body ease with the plucking of notes.

*

“Mommy?” 

“Yeah, baby?” Jess says, looking down to her daughter holding her hand. 

“Who is that?” her daughter asks, pointing to a man standing behind a camera.

“That’s the camera man, he’s going to take your picture, okay?” Jess explains in a kind voice. Her daughter nods her head in understanding, without speaking a word. They wait in the line for a few more minutes as other kids have their picture taken.

“Next!” the cameraman calls out. Jess places her daughter on the chair in front of the camera and presses out the wrinkles on her school uniform with her hands. “Name?” he asks.

“Alex Sanchez” Jess responds, stepping aside. 

“Okay, and what type of background do you want? We have blue sky, bookshelf, or red and grey” the cameraman explains. 

“Uhm, blue sky” Jess responds. The cameraman spins a knob to his right a couple times until the background behind Alex turns to blue with dull white smears all over it.

“Alright, Alex. Can I get a big smile out of you?” the cameraman asks, looking through the lens of his camera. Alex reciprocates, looking directly at the camera. The big lights by the camera flash and the cameraman says “Good work, Alex. All done!” Jess walks over and lifts Alex off the chair.

“Good work, baby!” she says, setting her daughter down. “How long will it take to get the photos?”

“About two weeks,” the cameraman answers, without looking at her. Jess nods and grabs her daughter's hand. She waves at the other parents and walks out of the room with her daughter.

“Ready to go home?” Jess asks Alex. She nods. They walk out the front doors of the school into the elegant summer afternoon, towards Jess’ car. Jess opens the back door of her SUV and puts Alex in her car seat, strapping her in carefully. She climbs into the front seat and pulls out of the parking spot into the street. They drive for a few minutes, before reaching the main road. “Hey, baby. I need to run to the bank, so we won’t be going home just yet, okay?”

“Okay” Alex responds, staring blankly out the window. Jess keeps driving up the main road until she pulls off onto a highway. She merges into traffic and follows the flow for a few minutes, listening to the radio music quietly. Jess notices Alex is being awfully quiet in the back, more than usual.

“You okay, babe?” Jess asks, peeking at Alex through the rearview mirror. 

“What’s wrong with that guy?” Alex asks, pointing beyond the window. Jess checks her right hand side mirror to see a man swerving around in the parallel lane, clearly intoxicated. 

“Shit,” Jess whispers, “don’t worry about him, babe. He’ll go away.” Jess keeps checking the side mirror every few seconds to see what he is doing. His swerving keeps getting worse as time passes, losing more control. Finally, he swerves too hard, hitting the concrete barrier to his right. “Oh, shit!” Jess yells, as she sees the man bounce off the barrier and turn right towards her car. She tries to swerve to the left to avoid him, but it happens too fast. The man’s car comes barrelling towards her, hitting the back right of the car. Alex cries out on impact and they spin out, hitting another car in the left lane. Jess lets out a scream as they continue to spin into the concrete barrier on the left, blacking out on impact.

*

Jess’ tear stained face stares at the photo of her daughter, without blinking. Not one sound emanates from her, and yet, John can feel her emotions from across the room. The room feels thick with an atmosphere of sadness. “Jess” John calls out, trying to shake Jess from her stupor. She lies still, unaware of anything around her. John walks over to her and regards her for a second, seeing her stare blankly at the photograph of her daughter. Her head on her tear soaked pillow. He gives her a shake and she finally snaps out of it.

“What?” Jess says, looking up and wiping her eyes. John steps back from her.

“You’ve been staring at that photo for almost an hour, cryin’ the whole time” John says, with a look of concern on his face. Jess sits up and looks at John. 

“Sorry…” she says, “I just miss my daughter.” John regards her for a moment, as if he doesn’t quite believe her.

“Why did you come to this place, darlin’?” He crosses his arms.

“ Well,” Jess begins, “we were in a car accident a little while ago and my daughter got badly hurt. When I got the hospital bill, the insurance company was just short of fully covering it. I couldn’t afford to pay off the rest so I opted to do this for four months in exchange for twenty thousand dollars. It seemed like a fair offer.” John chuckles in disbelief, turning away from Jess.

“Twenty thousand dollars” he says under his breath, “you chose to come here, for twenty thousand dollars?” He turns back around to look at her, with an annoyed expression. Jess shifts uncomfortably. 

“Yeah, but I know what I’m getting into,” she says with pride. “I would do anything for my daughter.”

“Now listen here,” John says, raising his voice. “While I respect that, you’re a damned fool. Next month we could wake up on a sub one hundred floor and then what? That twenty thousand is worth shit all if you don’t make it, girl!” Jess stands up, getting a bit worked up.

“If I’m a fool, what the hell are you doing here?” she yells, aggressively. John pauses for a moment, his expression shifting instantly.

“Let’s not get into that,” he says, turning away.

“No, lets!” Jess yells, pointing at him. “If trying to fix my daughter’s life is so bad, tell me what reason you have for being here. It better be good if you’re standing here judging me!” John’s face sinks, as though grief has encapsulated his soul. 

“I did something very bad,” he mumbles. Jess recoils a bit, wondering if she pushed too far. 

“What kind of bad?” she asks, her body becoming defensive. John looks at her, tears welling up in his eyes. He walks over to his bed and sinks down into it. “John, what did you do?”

“My wife had just died, I was overwhelmed and shocked,” he begins, choking up. “I relapsed that night, started drinkin’ again.” Jess’ face shifts to disbelief. “I couldn’t take sitting ‘round so I went out for a drive, drunk outta my mind. Next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. A couple officers were there, explained to me what I’d done.” He sobs heavily before continuing. “I t-boned a family, killing e’ryone. The parents and their kids too.” Jess looks at him, too shocked to say anything. He keeps sobbing and looks at Jess. “I killed ‘em Jess, it was my fault.”

“Oh my god…” Jess mumbles quietly, filled with anger and sympathy.

“They said I could choose,” John explains, “life in prison or a year in this place.” 

“And you chose this place?” Jess asks, “you’re a coward. You know what you did, you deserved much worse than this place. You don’t deserve a chance at a free life.” Her words cut deep into John’s already hurting heart.

“Jess, I…” John begins.

“My daughter was hurt by a drunk driver like you” Jess yells, cutting him off. “You

have no idea the pain you have caused to people just like me.”

“I’m sorry” he says quietly.

“I hope you spend a lifetime learning what sorry means, if you even survive this place” she says bluntly, lying down and turning away from John. He cries quietly for a few minutes while Jess ignores him, trying to control her anger. Eventually he stands up and kneels at the pit. Jess rolls over as the buzzer goes off, seeing the platform descend to their level. Jess, freezes for a moment, appalled that John could even eat right now, but realizes she is starving. She stands up and kneels down in front of the platform and begins eating various meats and other foods, all the while glaring at John. His expression remains empty as he shovels food into his mouth.

*

Daryl sits in front of the rows and rows of monitors, watching as the various people move around their rooms. He looks at the screen to his right with white text on a black background, nodding his head while reading the numbers. His attention shifts as the door knob behind him turns. 

“Good morning, Daryl,” the man says, peeking his head into the dark room.

“Mornin’ sir,” he responds.

“How are things looking? It’s the last day of the month” the man asks. Daryl turns to look at the black background monitor for a moment before turning back to face the man.

“Only 139 of the floors have people on them anymore, with 250 people remaining” he explains, gesturing to the monitor. “How many new inmates will we be getting this month?”

“Another 300 begin next month” he says, sighing. “The kitchen is gonna have their hands full. They work their asses off every day making that food.”

“Yeah…” Daryl says, turning back to look at the monitors. 

“What of the anomaly?” he asks, still staring at Daryl.

“She’s still alive, seems to be managing fine,” Daryl explains, without turning around. The man gives him a thumbs up even though he isn’t looking.

“Alright, Daryl. I’ll leave you to your work” the man says, as he shifts out from the door.

“Oh,” Daryl exclaims.

“What?” the man asks, peeking back in.

“We’re down to 249.”

*

Jess stands from her bed, shifting the photo slightly as she does. John watches as she goes over to the sink and rinses her face. “It’s the last day, Jess,” he says, clearing his throat. Jess turns off the sink and looks at him with an exasperated expression, then grunts in agreement. “No offense, but you might have gained a bit of weight from when you first arrived” John jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Jess sighs and rolls her eyes, “What do you want, John?” She walks back and sits on her bed. He sits up from the wall.

“We were getting along well and having an okay time before, I just want you to forgive me for what I did” John pleads.

“I’m not the one who needs to forgive you, John” Jess states, looking at John with a serious expression.

“I know, but for what it’s worth I am sorry and I’m sorry what I did is exactly what happened to your daughter.” Jess shakes her head and turns away slightly, thinking about what John did. “I will always regret what I did, it eats away at me ev’ry single day. I haven’t even had time to mourn my wife, for christ’s sake!” He shifts in his bed, choking up slightly. “I never got to have a funeral for her.” Jess stares at him, sympathy wells up inside her.

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“Hmm?” John mutters, through his sobs. 

“Okay, John. I understand. I can’t ever forgive you, but I understand” Jess says in a soft tone. She walks over and sits beside John, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t ever forgive myself either” John says, breaking down and crying into Jess’ shoulder. She feels her heart tear, seeing a fully grown man break down in front of her. Her eyes well up, as she rubs John’s back. 

They sit there for a while quietly, until John suddenly stops crying. “You know, maybe I am a coward” he says, sitting up and looking at Jess.

“What?” Jess asks, looking at John.

“A couple weeks ago, when I told you what I did, you called me a coward,” John explains, wiping his eyes, “I think you’re right, I was too scared to spend what’s left of my life rotting away in prison. I thought maybe I could live through this year and go back to the way things are. It seemed like the easy way out.”

“I get it, you were scared, you were grieving. You felt lost, you didn’t know what to do. It felt like they gave you an opportunity to keep living” Jess says, nodding. 

“I should have taken life in prison, it was the punishment I deserved. Hell, I deserve something worse than that. They should have stuffed me in the bottom floor of this damn place and let me rot.” John puts his face into his hands.

“John, you might not be able to fix the damage you’ve caused, but you can at least own up to it and try to help those that were affected. Once you’re out, you could try to get in contact with those affected and do what you can to help” Jess explains, trying to comfort John.

“I killed three kids, Jess. There is no fixing that. Besides, what about you? If the person who hurt your daughter tried to own up to it and fix it, would it really change anything?” John asks, looking up at Jess. She looks as if she’s about to be sick, realizing the true degree of horror John had caused.

“I don’t know if I could ever forgive him, besides, it’s not like that could happen anyways” she says, shaking her head. 

“What do you mean?” John asks.

“The man jumped out of his hospital window, killing himself. I never got the chance to look him in the eye and see if he regrets what he did” Jess says, sighing heavily, “I’m guessing he must have though. Probably why he killed himself.”

“Do you feel better knowing he is dead?” John questions, looking over at the pit.

“I don’t know…” Jess says, pondering her feelings. “Maybe? I never got the chance to talk to him, so I can’t say for sure.” John sits quietly, as if contemplating what Jess said. He stands up a few moments later and rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

Turning to look at Jess, he says “I can’t, Jess.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, staring up at him. 

“I can’t face those people I hurt, Jess. I just can’t” he says, raising his voice slightly.

“If you ever want to be forgiven, you have to at least try” Jess explains, “otherwise it will eat away at you until the day you die.”

“Even if they did somehow forgive me, how the hell would I live with myself?” John asks, his eyes filled with fear and sorrow, “not only have I lost everything that ever mattered, I ended the lives of those people.” 

“I don’t know, John” Jess responds, shaking her head. 

“I’m sorry, Jess, but I just can't,” John says backing up. 

“John, what are you doing?” Jess yells, standing up.

“I’m sorry. Please take care of my guitar.”

“John!” Jess yells, reaching out for him. Her hand falls short, grasping at the air, as John silently plummets down the hole. Jess watches as his body tumbles down, hitting a floor fairly far down and leaving a mark. Her mouth wide open, as tears stream down her face. She looks up to see a couple people above staring down at her, not reacting to what they witnessed. Jess stumbles back and sits down on John’s bed, her face stricken with shock. Tears stain her face, as she quietly sits huddled up.

Hours pass as Jess sits unmoving. Finally, the platform comes down and stops at her level. She stares at it, without blinking, scanning it slightly. Her eyes stop and lock onto a particular dish, sitting untouched near the middle of the platform. A perfectly roasted glazed ham on a plate of garnish lays there for the first time since Jess arrived, taunting her. She just stares at it, unable to move at all. Eventually, the platform moves on, leaving Jess alone. Time passes unknowingly to Jess and the lights go out for night. She still sits in the exact same spot, waiting for something, but she doesn’t know what. A strange hissing noise emanates from the wall and Jess slowly falls asleep, unaware of her unconsciousness.

*

Standing from his desk, Daryl wipes his hands together and walks out of the surveillance room into the bland hallway. He passes by a few well dressed people, as he enters a room on the right side. The room has a large table with various people sitting around it, Daryl sits down next to his boss. Everyone shifts their gaze to the screen at the far end of the room. A man stands up and points to the screen, which has various numbers on it. “All right everyone, we’ve reached the end of the month. Remaining inmates will be shifted, and new inmates will be situated. How are things looking? Daryl?” the man points to him.

“We had about 190 casualties, majority suicides,” Daryl begins explaining as the entire table shifts to look at him, “farthest the food got to was floor 110, and that was mostly bones and crumbs. The… anomaly, managed fine by herself on floor 54, floors above and below did not interact with her.”

“Thank you very much, Daryl,” the well-dressed man says, knocking on the table. “Okay, next order of matter. Concerns regarding the anomaly have been brought to my attention, about how we should handle her moving forward. Some people want to shove her on a low floor and leave her to her fate, others think we should let the system sort her out like it does everyone. What do you think?” One guy on the right hand side of the table raises his hand. “Yes, Harold?” he says pointing to him. 

“Why don’t we just release her? She shouldn’t even be in there!” Harold says, raising his voice. The man by the screen puts his head into his hand and sighs.

“Do you realize what would happen if the news found out about this? Not only would the whole program be shut down, we would all suffer the consequences. This cannot get out, no matter what” he argues, looking at Harold angrily. Harold sits back in his seat, looking disgruntled. “Who thinks we should just let the system sort her out?” he asks the room. Everyone, except for Harold and Daryl put up their hands. The man by the screen looks to Daryl. “What do you think we should do?”

“I say we just get rid of her,” he says bluntly, “why make her continue suffering?” The man nods his head and scans the room.

“Anyone feel we should do that instead?” he asks. Everyone drops their hands, some shake their heads and scowl. “All right then, it’s settled. Tomorrow she will be randomly assigned a floor and be treated as a normal inmate.” He looks over to a couple people on the left side of the room. “Please begin random assignment and pair up any single inmates with a cellmate.” The two people nod and walk out of the room. “Everyone else, please head back to your work areas and prepare for the next month. Daryl, please maintain regular contact with the kitchen to insure they are well prepared for initial launch.” Daryl nods and walks off, returning to the surveillance room. 

Sitting back down in his chair, Daryl attentively watches the screens as the positioning teams remove people from their current placements and put them somewhere new. He pays close attention to floor 54 to see what they do, but no movement seems to be taking place as of yet. Daryl scribbles down a couple numbers, guessing where they might place her next. He calls up the kitchen briefly and discusses the food preparation with the head chef, finding out that everything is going quite smoothly. Just another month, Daryl thinks, ending the communication.

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