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Between an Air Duct and a Metal Wall of Death
TW: a little bit of gore.
You open your eyes to a blinding fluorescent light, flickering gently. Your head feels ready to explode, your mouth is dry, and you ache all over. You close your eyes again and try to gather your thoughts.
Where are you?
Why do you feel like crap?
Then you suddenly realize you can't remember anything at all, even your name. You quickly sit up in a panic and immediately regret this, as it causes your head to pound terribly and your stomach to churn. You groan and put your head between your knees. When the wave of sickness passes, you lift your head to inspect the room. It is maybe five by seven feet and is composed of smooth, bare cement walls and floor, with one of the longer walls made of shiny metal instead. On the wall opposite is an air duct, covered with a flimsy metal grate. There doesn't seem to be a door. And you're not alone. Laying next to you is an unconscious black-haired girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, with high cheekbones and very light skin. She is dressed in a ugly gray jumpsuit, same as you, and seems to have a faint bruise on one cheek. You get up, braving another wave of sickness, and take a good long stare at her face: do you know her? You give her a good shake to try and wake her up, but nothing. You wonder if she's dead, but you check her breathing and pulse, and yes, she's alive.
With nothing better to do, you sit and stare at a wall while trying with no success to regain your memory. Suddenly you hear a loud scraping noise coming from the metal wall across from you. You leap to your feet and find yourself instinctively assuming a defensive position, with fists raised. Suddenly the wall begins moving toward you, at about the pace of an old snail. You cautiously touch the wall and then push on it, but it continues advancing.
What if it doesn't stop?
What if it eventually crushes you?
You look at the air duct. You and the girl could probably escape out of it. Probably should have tried that earlier. The headache must be clouding your thinking abilities or something.
You move over to it, and you can reach it on tiptoes. The metal grate is as flimsy as it looks, and it takes you about thirty seconds to remove. Should have put as much effort into securing the grate as was put into securing the rest of the room, you think to yourself. You grasp the edge of the air duct and haul yourself up with some difficulty, as you are still shaky and weak. The shaft seems to stretch for about five feet before it is interrupted by an impenetrable looking metal grate. The opening is only about a foot square, and you squirm into the air duct and worm your way down it, eventually reaching the second metal grate. It is as sturdy as it looks: an inch thick, with holes you can barely fit your finger into. There's no way of escaping out of it. You wriggle your way out and collapse to the floor, exhausted.
Sitting there and watching the wall crawl toward you, you feel panic beginning to overtake you again: if the wall doesn't stop moving, hiding in the air duct would be the only way to avoid being crushed to death. But given the size of the shaft, there's no way you will both fit. Meaning you will have to choose whether you or the girl will live. Either option is sickening. You want to live, but could you then live with yourself? What if the girl happens to be a relative or friend? Not that her being a stranger or not has any bearing on the morality of this whole situation. You want the girl to live, but the thought of slowly, slowly being crushed to death by the wall is terrifying. Your panic explodes at the thought of that gradually increasing pressure, first on your chest then probably your head, squeezing the breath out of you, cracking bones and squishing organs, until finally you die, screaming in pain.
You vomit, then start dry heaving. You try to calm down, to think this through, but your brain has rebelled and is now subjecting you to a full blown panic attack, and you start crying uncontrollably.
Why are you even here?
Who are you?
What is going on?
After about five minutes, you finally manage to calm down. You wipe your tears and snot away, then take a few deep breaths.
Maybe you can stop the wall moving? You try pushing the wall again, harder this time. You resist it with all of your shaky strength, and to your horror, it increases its speed to that of a spry worm. You quickly stop that endeavor.
Could the metal grate you removed from the air duct be of any use? No, it's even flimsier than you are.
Maybe wildly screaming yourself hoarse for five minutes on the off chance anyone is listening? No, another failure.
By this time, the wall has advanced about a foot. You need to make your decision before it gets too close, otherwise neither you or the girl will fit in the air duct.
If you decide to save the girl, go to part I.
If you decide to save yourself, go to part II.
Part I
You sit there for what seems like an eternity, mulling over your choice. Finally, when the wall is maybe three feet away, you decide: the girl will be the one in the air duct. The thought of her being crushed to pulp overpowers the thought of the same happening to you. Everybody dies eventually, and giving up your life to save a child doesn't sound like a half bad way to go.
You lift the girl up by the armpits and discover this is going to be a bit difficult. The girl weighs around 70 pounds and wouldn't be hard for you to lift ordinarily, but in your still weakened state it's a different matter. Add to that the fact that she is unconscious, and therefore is basically dead weight with limbs flopping everywhere. After much maneuvering and grunting, you manage to shove her into the air duct. You peer into the air duct to see how much room is left, and yes, no way in heck you're fitting in there too. Consigned to your fate, you stare at the wall slowly, inevitably scraping onwards.
You wonder what kind of life you led. What kind of person you were.
What did you do? Did you fall in love, change the world, whittle away your life in frivolity?
You wonder what will happen to the girl. What kind of person she will become.
Will she grow up? Will she fall in love, change the world, whittle away her life in frivolity?
The wall grinds onwards. Closer. As inevitable as old age, only a bit faster. Closer. You cry a little, scream some more, first out of fear, then eventually in pain. Closer.
Your last spoken words are, "It hurts, it hurts!!"
Your last thought is why. Why any of this.
Part II
You sit there for what seems like an eternity, mulling over your choice. Finally, when the wall is maybe three feet away, you decide: you will be the one in the air duct. You feel sorry for the girl, but this is outweighed by your survival instinct. You don't want to die. Not like that, with no knowledge of who you really are, squashed to death. Ignoring the prickles of guilt, you haul yourself into the air duct again and squeeze in.
Then you wait. Sometimes you doubt your decision and think about switching places with the girl, but always you decide against it. Mostly, you worry about what might happen next. What if the wall doesn't move back and you're trapped in here?
The wall is very close now. You're not sure exactly, but certainly less than a foot. You hear a loud crunch. You feel sick and cover your ears, though you can still hear some of it. You get the dry heaves twice. Finally, the noises are over. The wall is now touching the lip of the air duct and has stopped moving. For ten minutes, the wall stays like that, the only sound your gasping breath and beating heart. Then all of a sudden the metal wall starts moving back, at such a speed that when you come out of the air duct after a minute or two, it is already three feet from the wall. On the floor and walls is a mostly red smear that you do your best not to look at. Suddenly, a robotic female voice booms out from the locale of the ceiling, causing you to jump.
"Congratulations," It says in its emotionless voice. "You have successfully completed the moral dilemma level of testing." Then three beeps sound out, and then, "Restore memory."
Your memory comes crashing back. You realize where you are, what you've done, and who the girl was.
You realize you've made the worst decision of your life.
I'm planning on submitting this to a writing contest, so if you have criticisms, please voice them.
© All Rights Reserved
You open your eyes to a blinding fluorescent light, flickering gently. Your head feels ready to explode, your mouth is dry, and you ache all over. You close your eyes again and try to gather your thoughts.
Where are you?
Why do you feel like crap?
Then you suddenly realize you can't remember anything at all, even your name. You quickly sit up in a panic and immediately regret this, as it causes your head to pound terribly and your stomach to churn. You groan and put your head between your knees. When the wave of sickness passes, you lift your head to inspect the room. It is maybe five by seven feet and is composed of smooth, bare cement walls and floor, with one of the longer walls made of shiny metal instead. On the wall opposite is an air duct, covered with a flimsy metal grate. There doesn't seem to be a door. And you're not alone. Laying next to you is an unconscious black-haired girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, with high cheekbones and very light skin. She is dressed in a ugly gray jumpsuit, same as you, and seems to have a faint bruise on one cheek. You get up, braving another wave of sickness, and take a good long stare at her face: do you know her? You give her a good shake to try and wake her up, but nothing. You wonder if she's dead, but you check her breathing and pulse, and yes, she's alive.
With nothing better to do, you sit and stare at a wall while trying with no success to regain your memory. Suddenly you hear a loud scraping noise coming from the metal wall across from you. You leap to your feet and find yourself instinctively assuming a defensive position, with fists raised. Suddenly the wall begins moving toward you, at about the pace of an old snail. You cautiously touch the wall and then push on it, but it continues advancing.
What if it doesn't stop?
What if it eventually crushes you?
You look at the air duct. You and the girl could probably escape out of it. Probably should have tried that earlier. The headache must be clouding your thinking abilities or something.
You move over to it, and you can reach it on tiptoes. The metal grate is as flimsy as it looks, and it takes you about thirty seconds to remove. Should have put as much effort into securing the grate as was put into securing the rest of the room, you think to yourself. You grasp the edge of the air duct and haul yourself up with some difficulty, as you are still shaky and weak. The shaft seems to stretch for about five feet before it is interrupted by an impenetrable looking metal grate. The opening is only about a foot square, and you squirm into the air duct and worm your way down it, eventually reaching the second metal grate. It is as sturdy as it looks: an inch thick, with holes you can barely fit your finger into. There's no way of escaping out of it. You wriggle your way out and collapse to the floor, exhausted.
Sitting there and watching the wall crawl toward you, you feel panic beginning to overtake you again: if the wall doesn't stop moving, hiding in the air duct would be the only way to avoid being crushed to death. But given the size of the shaft, there's no way you will both fit. Meaning you will have to choose whether you or the girl will live. Either option is sickening. You want to live, but could you then live with yourself? What if the girl happens to be a relative or friend? Not that her being a stranger or not has any bearing on the morality of this whole situation. You want the girl to live, but the thought of slowly, slowly being crushed to death by the wall is terrifying. Your panic explodes at the thought of that gradually increasing pressure, first on your chest then probably your head, squeezing the breath out of you, cracking bones and squishing organs, until finally you die, screaming in pain.
You vomit, then start dry heaving. You try to calm down, to think this through, but your brain has rebelled and is now subjecting you to a full blown panic attack, and you start crying uncontrollably.
Why are you even here?
Who are you?
What is going on?
After about five minutes, you finally manage to calm down. You wipe your tears and snot away, then take a few deep breaths.
Maybe you can stop the wall moving? You try pushing the wall again, harder this time. You resist it with all of your shaky strength, and to your horror, it increases its speed to that of a spry worm. You quickly stop that endeavor.
Could the metal grate you removed from the air duct be of any use? No, it's even flimsier than you are.
Maybe wildly screaming yourself hoarse for five minutes on the off chance anyone is listening? No, another failure.
By this time, the wall has advanced about a foot. You need to make your decision before it gets too close, otherwise neither you or the girl will fit in the air duct.
If you decide to save the girl, go to part I.
If you decide to save yourself, go to part II.
Part I
You sit there for what seems like an eternity, mulling over your choice. Finally, when the wall is maybe three feet away, you decide: the girl will be the one in the air duct. The thought of her being crushed to pulp overpowers the thought of the same happening to you. Everybody dies eventually, and giving up your life to save a child doesn't sound like a half bad way to go.
You lift the girl up by the armpits and discover this is going to be a bit difficult. The girl weighs around 70 pounds and wouldn't be hard for you to lift ordinarily, but in your still weakened state it's a different matter. Add to that the fact that she is unconscious, and therefore is basically dead weight with limbs flopping everywhere. After much maneuvering and grunting, you manage to shove her into the air duct. You peer into the air duct to see how much room is left, and yes, no way in heck you're fitting in there too. Consigned to your fate, you stare at the wall slowly, inevitably scraping onwards.
You wonder what kind of life you led. What kind of person you were.
What did you do? Did you fall in love, change the world, whittle away your life in frivolity?
You wonder what will happen to the girl. What kind of person she will become.
Will she grow up? Will she fall in love, change the world, whittle away her life in frivolity?
The wall grinds onwards. Closer. As inevitable as old age, only a bit faster. Closer. You cry a little, scream some more, first out of fear, then eventually in pain. Closer.
Your last spoken words are, "It hurts, it hurts!!"
Your last thought is why. Why any of this.
Part II
You sit there for what seems like an eternity, mulling over your choice. Finally, when the wall is maybe three feet away, you decide: you will be the one in the air duct. You feel sorry for the girl, but this is outweighed by your survival instinct. You don't want to die. Not like that, with no knowledge of who you really are, squashed to death. Ignoring the prickles of guilt, you haul yourself into the air duct again and squeeze in.
Then you wait. Sometimes you doubt your decision and think about switching places with the girl, but always you decide against it. Mostly, you worry about what might happen next. What if the wall doesn't move back and you're trapped in here?
The wall is very close now. You're not sure exactly, but certainly less than a foot. You hear a loud crunch. You feel sick and cover your ears, though you can still hear some of it. You get the dry heaves twice. Finally, the noises are over. The wall is now touching the lip of the air duct and has stopped moving. For ten minutes, the wall stays like that, the only sound your gasping breath and beating heart. Then all of a sudden the metal wall starts moving back, at such a speed that when you come out of the air duct after a minute or two, it is already three feet from the wall. On the floor and walls is a mostly red smear that you do your best not to look at. Suddenly, a robotic female voice booms out from the locale of the ceiling, causing you to jump.
"Congratulations," It says in its emotionless voice. "You have successfully completed the moral dilemma level of testing." Then three beeps sound out, and then, "Restore memory."
Your memory comes crashing back. You realize where you are, what you've done, and who the girl was.
You realize you've made the worst decision of your life.
I'm planning on submitting this to a writing contest, so if you have criticisms, please voice them.
© All Rights Reserved
