Episode 5: The Room

My memory thereafter was the most vivid I can recall. I remember being led across the room and through the door that he had led Sarah through. His grip seemed to immobilize me but for my feet, and I walked with my hands straight down at my side. I had a bad feeling about what was about to happen, a sickening premonition that would ordinarily have left me sweating. But I wasn't. Calm, cool, we went through the door with the frosted glass.

This hallway was much brighter than the rest of the train. It was entirely white, without windows, and was illuminated by a piercing fluorescent light. My eyes squinted instinctively. The attendant turned my attention to a door on our right which I hadn't even noticed. It seemed to emerge right out of the wall before us. He opened it and extended a hand inside with a nod and his smile. I walked into the room.

The difference was immediate and immense. A sudden chill took me, and I found myself on my knees sputtering, grasping at the cold metal floor. I coughed, gasping for air. I could feel everything now, as though I had walked through a curtain of emotion and sensation. It struck me that I hadn't felt much of anything in my entire time on the train, and panic struck me with a fury. My coughs turned to sobs, and tears rolled down my face, landing unnoticed on the cool surface below me. I was there for some time. I didn't even know why I was crying, but I couldn't stop, either.

When I finally started to regain my composure, I took in my surroundings. The door was still open, and I could see the shadow of the attendant stretched long past me. Outside of the sharp edges of the light from the hallway, I could see very little. Right at the end of the light, though, was a brown leather reclining chair. It was tattered at the seams, obviously having been through some use. There was an eerie sort of glow coming from behind it. I looked over my shoulder at the attendant, who was stepping into the room. Behind him, the door slammed shut. I could feel myself starting to panic, the sweat rolling down my body both comforting and too familiar. The light from behind the chair provided the only vision. I staggered upright.

There was an old tube-style television with the off-air screen behind the couch. Now and then the colours flickered, though the antennae didn't move. I sniffled as I walked cautiously around to the front of the chair. Something compelled me to sit down in the chair. The attendant came behind me and placed something around my neck, a sort of collar. It was heavy, cold, and sunk me into the chair. It started to hum as the TV flickered more fervently, and my eyes were drawn into it. The feelings went away. The only sensation I had was the cold of the steel around my neck. There was a whisper in my ear, and my head drooped. Once again I felt immobilized.

There was a sharp pain in my head, like a migraine with a vengeance, accompanied by a piercing siren. I knew then that I should stop asking questions. No, no I won't ask anymore, promise, just please make it stop, make the pain stop. I scrunched up my eyes, wanting more than anything to just hold my head. Please make it stop. That noise.

Please.