Echoes in the Walls

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Still I sit at the center of the hall facing where I’d go if I moved. Time has become irrelevant in my world. Whether it’s been a few minutes or a hundred years isn’t discernible. There isn’t a day or night to tell. There isn’t anything. Nothing changes in this place.

The region I’m in is filled with empty pods. No sight of dead clones anywhere. Indents riddle the wall opposite the pods more frequently, visible from one another. Yet, no door. No exit. No escape. No anything. Never anything.

I’ve decided to sit and wait. My attempts to kill myself are fruitless. My attempts to starve fruitless.

Finding and end to this hallway. Fruitless.

Finding a living clone. Fruitless.

Deviation is nonexistent.

I’ve been consumed by madness many times over just to regain….

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Shadows Answer Stalled

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Confusion. Solitude.
Maddening, The Hall further taunts the lost soul.

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For years I’ve walked this narrow hall alone.
Haven’t seen a copy in ages.
Haven’t seen one alive. Ever.
Stranger that I miss them.
I’ve never stopped walking, though. And now there’s a steel rectangular indent on the wall. Seven by three vertical feet. No handle. Thus I beg the question, can doors exist in this place?
It might have been months or weeks, but I haven’t moved from before this indent. It means something.
It has something.
The wall goes on from where I came and it goes on to where I’m headed. But I’ve never seen an indent. I’ve never seen anything on the wall but the wall.
And copies stacked against it.
Nothing ever happens with the indent no matter how long I…

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The Calm Before The Fall

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Don’t know how long it’s been. Feels like months. Perhaps years.

I’ve… not starved. What does it mean? Am I even alive?

At the beginning the pain of starvation felt as though it would never end. Lost consciousness many times but always woke up. And then all sensation receded allowing me to enjoy the prison.

This ever stretching electric funhouse, is it hell? Was I a monster in my previous life? Was there a previous life? This might be the universe. A wall of concrete on one end and a wall of copies of me on the other.

They’ve never talked. The only ones out of their tanks are dead. The hall never ends. Either wall never ends.

And I can’t die. For weeks I attempted to cause trauma to my head. The blunt force of the concrete wall was excruciating at first, but that too faded until no sensation remained.

Now I just walk. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I walk. A Straight line down the hall of infinity. I step around the bodies of the dead copies.

I’m the only copy alive as far as I know.


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When A Bleak God Calls

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Even the fire is metallic in this unstimulating hell. Cooked rotten meat licked and scorched by the sunrise flame.

The air tastes of burnt plastic and copper from the wires I crossed to start the fire. I’ve been too lost to admire the lovely structure inspired by scientific miracle and horrid nightmares.

I’ve begun to question the purpose of the wall. It stands tall harassing me up into forever. It must be god. The wall is god and I am no more than its subject. Absurd, but it’s the best guess I have for where I am. Either I’m at the end or at the beginning of the world.

The meat still tastes rotten. I’d nearly forgotten when I got lost staring at the wall, but there’s the thought again and with it came the taste. It doesn’t go away. And If I was okay with dying today, which I wish was the case, I’d go away. But I’m scared and fascinated. It’s not fair that I can’t help but procrastinate on my death just to see what fate awaits.

Two days or three weeks have gone by and this road is bleak and I don’t checkout of the ride.

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The Darkest of Them All

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A straight stride has proven fruitless and aimless as time makes no difference. Walking for an infinity no longer than a week, starvation begins to sink in. Madness has long since stricken, although the stride has not been affected.

Broken dissolved vocal cords rasp with every breath. Destroyed by the screams held for days with hopes that someone would hear my pleas for mercy, with no avail. A torn bloodied forehead shows white bone bits cracked by my skulls repeated impact against concrete. Fingernails broken off by all the attempts to hatch another.

Debating whether to lay for rest and die as a means of escape from this merciless prison I see a shadow ahead. A dark figure piled into the corner where the wall and…

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Mirror on the Wall

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Loud machinery wakes me up. Can’t see a thing. There isn’t enough room to spread my arms too far out. There’s almost nowhere to move my feet. Panic immediately consumes me. I frantically attack the inside of the container.

The walls.

Floor.

“AHH!” Slips from my lungs, bursting through my vocal cords and out my mouth. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!”

Images of coffins and the movie Buried raced through my mind. Poor Ryan Reynolds was fucked straight through that film!

Nothing budges or moves. This box is static.

A deep breath calms me enough to organize all relevant thoughts. Understanding my environment becomes priority number one.

I’m cushioned in by walls to my back and sides. A surface frictionless smooth before me. Increased resolution reveals glass.

The padding inside is whiter as I see more. A grey featureless wall twenty feet away appears. It stretches the entire view on the other side of the glass.

Out of sight shines an electric blue light. It’s barely there. The wall is just bright enough to…

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