(If you haven’t read the first part of this Writing Prompt inspired piece, please check it out here.)
Wow you actually continued onto the second recording. I’m just a little surprised. I thought my rambling might have scared you off. But it’s good. I’m glad you are listening. Of course if someone else is listening to this then that means something bad probably happened to me. Or I’m in the next room waiting for you to finish listening to this. Let’s hope for the latter.
Ok now where was I. I escaped the cocoon due to a loss of power in the building. That was two weeks ago. Now it’s been three weeks since I escaped. I have been trapped in between three rooms. One I’ve nicknamed the research room and that’s where all the fancy screens are and it’s the room that holds the cocoon. Then there’s the mess hall as I’ve learned it’s called and that’s where all the tables, chairs, and food is located. The food is mostly canned stuff. Doesn’t smell the best, but I guess it’s edible. I don’t have a lot of options. The third room is a small closet of some kind. Its full of chemicals and things like mops and brooms. There is a small cot that I’ve been sleeping on. I ended up pulling it out of the small closet and setting it up in the research room.
The first couple weeks were me freaking out a lot. I escaped the cocoon and I noticed that my skin glows in the low light. I’m like a flashlight. As far as I know I can’t control it. I just glow from time to time. I’ve almost gotten used to it. Almost. Anyway, I escaped the cocoon and eventually the shock of the situation wore off. I carefully explored the three rooms and discovered the data pad. Then all I did was read. I read a lot about the experiments they were doing on me and the inherent knowledge they filled me with. A lot of it is above my intellectual level and I don’t understand, but I’ve gathered the chemical concoction somehow changed my body and gave me these abilities. The ability to glow. And maybe regenerate and fly. I haven’t gotten that far yet.
I’ve also discovered that I wasn’t the only one. There were thousands of people. None of which survived the transformation. This thought makes me feel guilty. I mean…I didn’t do anything, right? But these people died in what sounds like horrible ways just so I could glow. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. I’m not sure what these scientists were hoping to accomplish but apparently I’m it. Whatever I am.
A lot of days are not good ones. The claustrophobia kicks in. I get anxious. I feel for these other people who I have never met. Even the scientists. I feel angry at them, but I also feel bad for them. Did they know what they were doing? Was this some kind of sacrifice for the greater good? I feel like that’s a lot of responsibility on someone. Was I a cure to some kind of disease? Was this medicine? Or was I some kind of mad science gone wrong? I honestly don’t know. The data pad gives me a lot of answers but still fills me with questions.
I’ve been using the data pad as a recorder for these messages, which you should know because you’re probably handling it right now. Unfortunately it does not have a very good battery life. I’ve had to stop recording to recharge it several times. The large screens in the research room tells me power is now at 21%. I’m draining power from the rooms at an alarming rate. Of course this could be a good thing. I’m not sure.
Like I’ve said, there is three main rooms that I have access to. But that is not the whole story. There are other rooms. There are large metal doors that connect the research room to other rooms I cannot access. The same is true for the mess hall. Doors that are unmoving. The gamble I’ll eventually face is that the power levels may be connected to the doors. My two ideas is that either the power keeps the doors shut or the power is the only way to open them. Two opposite ideas. If the power does run out, it may lead to the doors opening by themselves or at least the locking mechanisms shutting down. If the doors get their power from the room, that may mean a loss of power will result in the doors staying closed forever.
I’ve been looking through the data pad for answers but I can’t find any. This recording also takes power, but I think it’s important to record my thoughts. Let you know what is going on. Whoever you are. Maybe I’m conceited for just talking to myself in front of this data pad for minutes on end, I don’t know. I can’t really see people sitting with this thing in front of your face just listening to someone talk about their day. I know it would bore me.
The other thing that limits the time I can stay in this area, is the amount of food. I’m been searching through it and eating the stuff that looks the best. I’m not sure how long it has been here, but a lot of it is canned and sealed up tight. It doesn’t taste the best, but I don’t have a lot of options. I need to find a way out of this box. Oh god. There’s the claustrophobia kicking in again. I don’t know how I stayed inside that little tube for all that time.
I ask you to keep listening to future recordings. I will let you know if I learn anymore about this place. It is possible that I don’t escape this room and the way you found this is that you found it next to my body. I try to shake off that possibility, but I know it is there in the back of my mind. It’s possible I don’t leave this room. That I die here. My tomb as well as my place of birth. It scares me but it also drives me. I will get out of this place. I will escape.
Oh look at that. I need to recharge again. Maybe I should conserve. I hope there are future messages, because that means I’m still alive. If not, this will be the last one and it will be an eulogy.
Actually that’s a really bad place to stop recording. That was really sad. Ok instead let me tell you about this funny thing that happened to me. Maybe you had to be there, but I’m hoping I can describe it well. When I first was checking out the rooms after the whole freaking out about the glowing skin thing, I opened the closet area not really knowing what it was and…
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