Why of all the dark rooms in existence am I in this one, why couldn’t it be your typical dark room with a sliver of light peaking out from beneath a door. For all I know this room doesn’t even have a door. Craziness of course, it must have a door, right? How else would I have gotten in here. Must find the door.

There’s that elevator sound again. This time joined by what sounds like faint muffled voices. Distant voices.

I decide to work my way left away from the drawers, feeling slowly along the base of the wall desperately hoping to stub my fingers on a door frame. There is nothing immediately next to the drawers, I must have moved three or four metres along the wall by now – I wonder how big this room is, hard to tell in the dark.

  1. VI
  2. Reaching the corner Miles, the self designated leader, went first. What he found was a whole lot of nothing, he motioned for the rest to follow him. They had no other choice, the elevator had closed and there were no controls to call it back again. Rounding the corner they were greeted by more corridor, […]

  3. XVIII
  4. “The green cylinder. On the other side of the room.” There was significant static on the intercom, however, the instruction was crystal clear. “Break it open.” That didn’t seem like the most brilliant idea, especially given the past events at this particular facility. However, this was no mere suggestion, it was a demand.

  5. IV
  6. Their nightly routine was always the same. “Sam, it’s time to go to sleep, lights out…”, “But Mum,” he protested, “I don’t like the darkness, I’m afraid of the monster in the closet”, It was always the same reason, like a recording being played back repetitively for comedic effect. The response of Sam’s mother too […]

  7. XXXI
  8. I’m back to the table that I had awoken on an hour ago, it’s right next to the immovable filing cabinet. My eyes seem to be slowly coming to grips with the light levels, I can’t make out any defined shapes, just patches of dark and patches of not-quite-as-dark. Using the table to pull myself […]

  9. XII
  10. Charles, only five-nine, but built like a tree and dressed head-to-toe in black tactical gear. Handguns holstered on each leg, a small knife strapped to one ankle, and two of the biggest machetes I’d ever seen – one hanging over each shoulder. Honestly, given the stories I’d heard, I was expecting more guns, but I […]