Room 101; original writing coursework.
Room 101; original writing coursework.
Prologue
The year is two thousand and thirty six, the Big Brother empire has ruled Oceania for fifty two years. During the last few, several anti-Big Brother organisations have been formed, their aims to rebel and destroy the Big Brother party, bringing freedom to the peoples of Oceania. The leader of one of these organisations, Quinn Robertson, is being tortured for information.
I bolted upright and screamed, releasing the torrent of fear, pain and blackness that had previously engulfed me like a valley before a crumbling dam, or at least, I tried. Unable to move or speak, for the tight restraints holding every possible part of my body that could move or even wriggle, for the cool, foamy and seemingly large gag forced so far down my throat that my body threatened to convulse and retch. Also unable to see, for a sheet of metal curved around my head, which, like rest of my body, was unable to move. It allowed only a line of light to creep up the metal surface and highlight how dependant I was on my senses, almost mockingly allowing me to know I could still see, move and speak, but not realise my surroundings.
As a result of being verbally, physically and visually restrained my other senses seemed to be enhanced; I could feel the cold metallic surface of the chair I was in, sending shivers down my arms to the pit of my stomach, making me shiver despite the warmth in the air. A smell of chemicals greeted me,which though unpleasant, smelled clean and sterile adding to the emptiness around me. A gentle humming of electricity, that I was only subconsciously aware of until now, plagued my mind, what was it, where was it coming from? My left or right, from front or behind? Where was my front? Was that my right? Where was I?
Simultaneously two things happened, firstly a light struck in my head like a match, revealing corners of my mind hidden in the darkness, keeping silent yet knowing the answers, I was in room 101. I had heard rumours of this place, people said it was a gateway to hell, others claimed it did not exist, until now I had refused to think about it.
Secondly a quiet mechanical whirr filled my ears, overpowering the now almost unbearable hum, though something of a welcome, I feared what the new noises would bring. The curved metal plate that had been restricting my view moved aside, sliding round and back behind my head. In place of the restricting metal sheet my eyes were greeted by a blinding white light. As my pupils contracted I realised I would be faced with room 101. After several seconds the light was still there, but then I realised the blinding light had indeed subsided, on every surface, above, in front, left, right and down as far as I could make out was covered in pure white tiles that seemed to give off the humming sound and the rooms light. They were so seamlessly placed together that they could have been one solid surface, only broken by what appeared to be drains, small dips that were barely half a foot across and an inch deep ran along the side of the walls and met in the corners where there were drainage holes.
Above them were large sprinklers, pointing to the floor. Their purpose was a mystery to me, but they still made me shiver with fear. Though without them the walls would most certainly be indistinguishable from the ceiling or floor, probably giving the impression of being in a vast, white abyss.
As far as I could distinguish I was a few paces from the wall in front of me, the same distance from the walls either side of me; though I could not turn my head fully to the side because of the restraints, which were two metal poles with flat sides somehow fixed squarely on my temples, or for the vertical metal sheeting behind my head, restricting any view of behind me. Another mechanical whirr erupted from behind me, causing my head restraints to part from my head and move back.
Before I could even stretch my aching neck mucsles the chair swivelled round to face the other end of the room. In the far wall about 15 feet away was the door, it looked like a door from a submarine, complete with a lever and seamless edges. To the right of it were several levers, coated in plastic. In front was a large grate embedded in the floor, and to the left, and to my immense suprise, was a desk.
Like the room itself, it's only piece of furniture was cold and sterile, grey, with metal legs. Sitting behind the desk was a man, a man with his elbows on the table and his fingers intertwined, supporting his head. A man who was confident enough to grin in room 101, his name was Strife.
"Welcome, to room 101." He said in barely a whisper, and yet each word was as clear and distinguishable as though he was speaking in my ear, each word sank my heart further and further.
He stood up, pushed the chair under the desk, which seemed to click into place. His muscled face shot up, he glanced at me with sharp, green eyes that surveyed me with a look that carried a sense of disgust across to me. Though he only glanced at me the moment our eyes caught each other seemed to go on for eternity. ...
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"Welcome, to room 101." He said in barely a whisper, and yet each word was as clear and distinguishable as though he was speaking in my ear, each word sank my heart further and further.
He stood up, pushed the chair under the desk, which seemed to click into place. His muscled face shot up, he glanced at me with sharp, green eyes that surveyed me with a look that carried a sense of disgust across to me. Though he only glanced at me the moment our eyes caught each other seemed to go on for eternity. His cold, calculating, crushing gaze bored into me like a knife and equally caused as much pain.
Finally he looked away at the desk, sending relief through me, I couldn't have continued looking into that gaze for much longer. His grey suit had an armoured right shoulder, a moulded half bowl of metal that curved down his right arm, on the end a small piece of metal snaked down his upper arm, connecting to a hinge at the elbow which further attached itself to a metallic panel covered in numbered buttons that were hardly distinguishable from the grey panel itself, save for the red numbers.
Bringing his arm up to look at the panel as if he were looking at a watch, he typed in a sequence and proceeded to look at the desk.
Instantly the tiles below the desk rose up five feet, supported by pneumatic poles that emerged from the dark space left by the desk. It then proceeded to turn the floor and the desk upside down and sink back down with a perfunctory hiss. The space once occupied by the desk was now just another blank patch of humming, glowing white tiles.
Strife's white face was muscled and yet chiselled, his eyes were dark, grey and yet seemed to give of an intensity that leaped out at you, calculated, accessed, accused and accumulated every detail and piece of knowledge around him. He had a good posture and a quick, prominent stride.
He turned back from the desk, strode to the wall on my left and turned his whole body to face it. Still facing the wall, he punched another sequence of buttons into the control panel on his arm.
Immediately the gag that had been forced down my throat was noiselessly wrenched out of my mouth, then sank back behind my head. Because of this my body's attempts to stop me from retching were abruptly abandoned, causing my body to convulse, but, due to the restraints pushing back the sudden spasm of my muscles, every nerve and fibre of my flesh was subject to extreme, stabbing pain, the pain was a wall of fire rushing through my body, incinerating every part of me.
Strife, ignoring my apparent agony continued to face the wall, gathering all my remaining fragments of mental and physical strength I whispered "Why am I here?" The words barely escaped my mouth without being comprehensible, each syllable rasped in my throat like a grater and emerged weak and hoarse.
"Surely you know?" He replied, "Or have you started suffering from multiple personalities, hmmm? Wouldn't suprise me, very few people make it here sane, the interrogation rooms may be primitive but they prove effective."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" I argued, the raise in volume bringing more pain to my throat, "why is it that I am here?"
Strife still gazed at the wall and started to thoughtfully chew his lip, considering how to answer my question. He continued to do so for several seconds until he seemed decided. "Is it any comfort to you to look around this room and see not one Big Brother screen? No doubt it is the first time you have been free of the gaze of the Big Brother frontman?" He said in the air of a tourguide, turning to face me, indicating the walls.
The Big Brother frontman, the face that had watched every one of my actions and heard every word I spoke all through my life without exception, tracing and recording every individual's activities. Evidently not expecting an answer Strife continued,
"The very reason you are here is your recalcitrance of Big Brother, your attempt of insurrection was your downfall. You have been found guilty of; free expression of emotion, the forming of an anti-Big Brother group, the organisation of riots, vandalism of government buildings and the assaulting and mugging of no less than eighteen Big Brother party members. Is this true?"
"............. No, you're wrong.", I finally answered.
Strife seemed unmoved by my response. "Room 101, by now you should have guessed its purpose, its the doorway to a person's mind, it unlocks ways to the control of an individual's mind. The key is fear, despair and loathing, the most basic and primal of instincts, with them you can break down a conscience to the level of a infant, and then mould it into the desired state. When wielded properly it can also reveal hidden information that physical torture alone cannot expose. This room is the most sophisticated torture device ever created, in here we can force an individual to face their ultimate fear, no matter what it is we can wield it. For example, corpses."
At the moment he finished the last word the tiles on the walls glowed white hot, and then changed completely, they now appeared to be clear, like glass. On the apparent 'other side' of the now glass room 101 was surrounded by decaying bodies, piled on every surface and covering every inch of the now clear walls. Even the floor was replaced by a fermenting pool of remains, just to look at them made my stomach churn. Instinctively I closed my eyes and turned my head up in order to avert retching again.
Finally, I risked opening my right eye to see that the gruesome display had gone and that strife was calmly leaning on the left wall, hands in pockets and soundlessly eyeing his arm panel, seemingly considering his next course of action. What was he planning to do? Would he continue playing with me like a cat with a half-dead mouse? Would I leave this room alive? Sane? Whole?
Strife, sensing my sudden panic jumped on the opportunity, he was the predator, I was the prey. "What, in your opinion, is your worst fear? Stabbing perhaps?"
"Don't you know? You seem to know everything else." I added sarcastically.
"Of course, though people are sometimes somewhat deluded as to what their worst fear is." Strife corrected, remaining as cool as ever.
"What do you mean?" I questioned slowly and suspiciously.
"We give you your fear", noticing my expression of confusion on my face he continued, "not the instinct,no no, that would be impossible, we just give you what you would fear most. It gives us superlative control."
"What's....mine....then?" I asked breathlessly, either from anticipation or lack of energy I'm not sure.
"Oh no, I can't tell you that yet!" He said silkily, an evil grin spreading across his previously still face. "Though I can say, if your going to continue questioning me and not vice versa, it's time for a little surgery."
"Wha..." I half enquired, but my attention was focused on a syringe held by a mechanical arm with the needle embedded in my lower arm and the plunger down.
"At the risk of sounding unoriginal; nighty night." Strife joked as my mind clouded over and my vision blacked out like a drape had been hung over my eyes.
I was floating, little than a presence, an enigma. I could feel myself being moved involuntary to my brain's commands, my mind screamed with frustration, move, respond, see, feel!
Suddenly light crept through me, like the dawn it gave meaning to the darkness, I could feel my mind regaining control of my body, bringing me back from the eternal blackness.
My eyes opened to see the quiet, humming tiles of the ceiling, I was still in room 101, resignation ran through me like a tidal wave. Sighing, I lifted my head and looked around, the blurred figure of Strife slowly came into focus, ignoring his penetrating gaze I looked around me. I was lying on a surgical table, on the left of it was two more automated arms, one with another empty syringe, the other with a laser scalpel, still smoking gently, the fumes rising and dissolving into the air.
A quiet, throbbing, nagging pain made me look down, all the skin from my elbow to my wrist was gone, perfectly cut and removed. This only came as a mild shock to me, perhaps I was still delusional from the drugs, but no, I could feel it palpitate, it had to be real.
"Why? Surgery isn't my worst fear, why have you done this?" I demanded, still staring at my mutilated arm.
"Let's just say your fear wouldn't work without the, ah, bleeding."
"Bleeding?"
"Yes, tell me, what were you attacked by when you were a child?"
I knew what he meant, that appalling, vile creature, it had sprang on me when I was two, and now I remember, there was a man standing near when it happened, he only helped at the last minute, just before the repulsive creature had bitten me. He had a Big Brother crest on! He had set the beast on me! They did give people their fear.
"A...a.....Biter." Just saying the very word filled me with dread.
"Yes, a Biter, do you know what they actually are? They are freaks, genetically engineered from Komodo Dragons, they were created by Big Brother for law enforcement purposes, mainly immediate execution and tracking. They're vision is appalling you see, they rely more on smell than vision. The poison in their bite causes extreme pain, dehydration, spasms, blindness, major organ failure and eventually death." The smile on Strife's face growing larger with every word, "Unfortunately some escaped custody and proceeded to wipe out a fifth of the capital, but due to the fact that they only pursue prey that is injured, or, like you, simply bleeding, they died out. But we still have some at our disposal...."
Would he? Could he? I had to escape, somewhere, how though? I had no strength left and there was the matter of how I would escape, I was helpless, nothing I could do would prevent his actions. Please could he question me so I could give him what it is he wants? At least then I would have a chance of getting out alive! But no, I must not tell him what he wants, if I'm to die I may as well do so honourably.
"What is it you want to know, Strife?"
Strife shot a look that seemed mildly confused and even shocked but recovered quickly. "Surely your not going to make it that easy for me are you? Hmm, I won't ask you now, your bound to give me false information. No, more pressure on your tiny, individual mind needed before that I think."
My mind raced, I had underestimated Strife, he knew I would try to forestall him, he was one step ahead, he was a skilled chessplayer, designing a trap around me as my defences crumbled, coming ever closer the checkmate, the king, me.
"Lets add some of that pressure shall we?" Strife asked, though it flowed from his lips as a command. Again the room obeyed his very voice. Instantaneously the surgical table dropped sideways, throwing me off it onto my right arm. The table itself proceeded to sink back into the seamless tile patchwork it had originated from. Cursing in pain I looked up at Strife to insanely insult him, but I was stopped short by the fact Strife wasn't looking at me, all his attention was focused on the far wall, opposite the door.
Turning my body I saw that the left side of the far wall had gone, only to be replaced by darkness. Both me and Strife continued to stare into the dark void for several seconds, my heartbeat increasing, pounded in my ears, adrenaline flooded my system, adding to my apprehension. A single grunt emerged from the void, confirming my suspicion. A three fingered, reptilian hand emerged from the darkness, covered in scales with sharp, long claws resembling razor blades, glinting in the light.
Sheer alarm forced my eyes shut, it's amazing how much comfort a small film of skin can be, it was a barrier to the horrors of the world it shut out the room, it's contents, even the whole world. But the biting voice of Strife cut in, bringing me back from the salvation denial had given me, "Behold, your ultimate fear."
As my eyes had been shut by alarm, they were now forced open by curiosity, there, only five feet away was the beast that had haunted me for all of my life. In a new rush of adrenaline I sprang up and crawled over to the far corner, as far away as possible from the mutant reptile, my bleeding arm had left a trail of blood smudged all over the tiled floor.
It stood at about 4 foot high on it's back legs, which were thin but powerfully built, the creatures forearms were as thin as a child's. With each laborious breath it's starved, skeletal ribcage barely increased in size. A long, whip like tail protruded behind it, swishing back and forth. Each of it's scales was frayed and battered, in places there were no scales at all and only bare flesh, open to the air. A musty, sickening smell of decaying meat wafted over to me, making me shudder.
It's triangular head had hardly moved, the creature seemed dazed from the light, but despite the distance between me and it's head I could still see it's nostrils dilating, taking in the air around it, sniffing, searching, scanning for.....my blood.
The head paused, it's nostrils snorted quickly, the small mind hidden within it's skull working, pinpointing the origin of the organic odours in the room. It's vile, scarred head curved round to face me, it's small, vivid, scarlet eyes trying to focus on my body, it's mouth leisurely drew into an evil snarl, exposing hundreds of yellow, dagger like teeth.
Terrified I looked on to see the creature reveal the dark cavern of it's mouth and two immense fangs at the front, which lowered themselves from the roof of it's mouth while the lower jaw dropped down, like that of a Rattle Snake's, a long, flexible tongue protruded from the cavernous mouth.
A deafening shriek erupted from it's throat, it then leaped at me, forearms raised, claws outstretched, it's entire body had left the ground before it flattened against something invisible and flat in mid air. Falling backwards it attempted to land on it's feet, but slipped on the glazed tiles and ultimately ended up spinning in the air.
What was it between me and the Biter? The answer came instantly from strife who had seemed to sense my amazement. "Shield you understand, though don't consider yourself lucky, I can have it removed at any time I wish, so, start listening and answering. Where are your party's headquarters?"
"I'll never tell you." I said solemnly, barely whispering, all my energy focused on the Biter, trying to will it away, but to no avail.
Strife sighed falsely, "Very well, you leave me no choice." He type a code into his arm panel.
The Biter, sensing that something had happened, attempted another approach, though this time cautiously and steady for fear of meeting with the invisible wall again. Strife wasn't lying, he would, and he has! The beast was closer than ever before, it's stench filled me with nausea, I could hear it's claws clicking on the hard surface. It was coming, no escape, no way out, why, why was this happening to me?
"Strife! Why? You can't!"
"I have before, why shouldn't I do it again?" replied Strife tranquilly, but his words meant nothing to me, a pure hatred of Big Brother was rushing through me, what justified this, what gave them the right? Another figure had appeared beside Strife, he looked like a guard, how did he get in without me noticing?
Then it happened, the fate I had avoided at the age of two, the thing that gave the creature it's name.
It was quicker than imaginable, the creature pounced on me, grabbed my shoulders with it's forearms, the claws sinking into my flesh, it turned it's head to the side and closed it's razor laden jaws over my face piercing my cheeks, the two large fangs penetrating my left temple. I could feel the venom flowing into my head, flowing with my own blood to every portion of my fragile, frail, feeble body, leaving a trail of agony behind it.
The now blurred lizard released me from it's iron grip, sprang back and stared at me, waiting for the poison to take affect.
It didn't have long to wait, almost as soon as it had sprang back my head erupted with extreme, splitting pain. I was falling, spinning, turning, the ground was near, so near, impact any second, closer, closer, bam.
My entire body convulsed, each muscle contracting with a strength no person could exert on their own, pulling in opposite directions, ripping my tendons and shattering bones. My mouth was an inferno, hotter and dryer than a desert. Water, I needed water! I felt my very own fluids leaving me, weakening me even further. Shooting pains ricocheted off the inside of my torso, racing up my overloaded spinal chord to my near shattered brain. My sanity was an ever-crumbling cliff, refusing to support the weight of what was happening to me, threatening to drop me into the dark void.
"I ask you again, where is the headquarters' location?" Demanded Strife, his voice fierce, no longer cool and quiet.
My response was a scream of agony and anguish, my head held high, howling like a wolf.
"Who are the party members?"
"You never.....never....know, never!" I cried in a last, desperate response before the cliff gave way, my mind plummeting down into the void.
The last words I heard echoing through my mind were, "We're not going anywhere with this, give him the antidote and take him away to be reprogrammed."
Epilogue
Quinn Robertson was reprogrammed and released back into controlled society. Two years later he was found by his old fellow anti-Big Brother party members, he had his mind restored using stolen experimental Big Brother truth serums. Big Brother was overthrown, the members executed or imprisoned in two thousand and forty three, seven years since Robertson was tortured. Quinn subjected Strife to the venom of a Biter, but realising it was only mindless vengeance which had motivated him, he sent Strife to be imprisoned with the other party members.