Alt+Control Chapter 35

I manage to squirm myself out of Marc’s arms. I admit it was rather comfy, but I couldn’t stay like that all day. We have much more pressing matters at hand.

“Do you think it’s safe to go?” I ask Marc. “I believe that’s the right place.”

“What in the world was that?’ asks Gerad. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

“It’s a technology,” explains Marc, “that the government has developed to keep out intruders. It uses a form of wave that plays with your mind. Most people experience the thing they fear the most. Many people were driven mad when the scientists tested out this device on them. We were lucky to only experience it for a short period of time.” He looks at me. “I could feel it from all the way out here.”

“But I didn’t feel anything!” exclaims Gerad. “Does that mean some people are more sensitive to it?”

“I suppose.”

“Gerad, would it be ok if you went as our test subject? You’re less sensitive, and if it’s stopping, then it would affect you the least…” I hate making a request like that, but I just don’t want to go through what I just did again.

“Yeah. If you hear me, you don’t need to carry me, Marc,” he grins, and trots into the darkness.

I stare nervously into the darkness. I can’t see any traces of him… What if he

got attacked, or is actually susceptible to the device? I’m about to get up and run after him when I hear him call.

“Looks all clear to me! Come on!”

I glance over at Marc. “You ok to go?” he asks.

“Yeah, totally. Are you? Don’t push yourself. You don’t have to.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never been more ready.” He gets up and brushes his pants off. He holds out his hand, and I use it to pull myself up.

“Hey, are you two coming or what?” calls Gerad again. “Don’t keep me waiting here all day.”

“Yeah, coming, coming,” I mumble. “Is it just me, or does he sound overly eager?”

“Well, we are saving his friends, and one that he thought was dead. Who wouldn’t be excited?”

We walk into the darkness. The black envelopes me once more, but I feel safer with Marc at my side. I don’t feel any trace of the images, so I think it’s safe.

“Hey guys, over here!” says Gerad, and a beam of light hits my eye.

“Ow!” I cover my eyes. That burns! My eyes water from the sudden brightness.

“Gerad, lower the flashlight! It’s not going to help if you’re blinding us.”

The beam lowers to the floor, and I can see it really is coming from a flashlight. “Why didn’t you give that to me before I went into the darkness to explore? Could’ve saved me some trouble.” I’m feeling slightly hurt.

“I only discovered it in my pocket now. I was able to find something though.” Gerad aims it ahead of us. In front of us is a large steel door, with yet another keycard activation slide besides it. Without another word, Marc hands me the keycard. I slide it through, and the door opens.

Ahead of me, down the hall, there’s a cold grey door.

“This is it,” whispers Gerad. “The very heart of our mission.”

I walk to it, and stand in front of it, wondering if I should go through. I tentatively place a hand on the door, placing a slight pressure on it.

The door creaks open slightly, and I jump back in surprise. I end up tripping into Marc and Gerad, who somehow manage to catch me before my head hits the rough cement. Marc grins at me.

“You ready?” he asks. He lifts me back up.

I nod my head. I place my hand on the door once more and push.

The new room is grey, and made of the same cement as the hallway. There’s a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, which casts shadows everywhere, including the figure sitting on a wheelchair near the back right hand corner.

I can only see the profile of the figure, which was unrecognizable in the shadows, and a small machine besides it on a table humming quietly.

“Who are you?” asks the figure. From the voice, I can tell the figure’s male, and also quite frightened. “What do you want from me?”

Gerad grabs onto my arm, squeezing tightly. I look at him, and I see a mix of anxiety and something I can’t quite place in his eyes.

“It’s him,” he mouths to me. “Can I say something?” he asks cautiously. I nod.

“Lukas, we’re here to save you,” Gerad says. “Are you alright?”

There’s a scrape as the machine besides the figure is taken off the table, and a sharp squeak as the wheelchair inches towards us. The figure gets closer to the light, and when I finally see his face, I can barely stifle a gasp.

It’s certainly Lukas, but crisscrossing scars mars the right side of his face. His right eye drooped over an empty socket, and the corner of his mouth was in a lopsided and permanent looking smirk. It’s as if he has this hideous half mask on, one from a cheap Halloween store.

“Gerad? Is—is that really you?” he asks, tentatively.