>Brain pt. 2


Table of Contents
Part One

     Log 2: I awoke in a room with no windows and no doors, with nothing in the room but a puddle of oil. I would only see it because of the light that was firmly bolted to the ceiling. I called out several times. There was no answer but my own echo. It was cold. I was hungry. But I was curious. So I began to explore my little jail cell, and found nothing in it but the puddle of oil.
     However, I did find one interesting feature of my prison.  There was a little vial near the puddle of oil, which looked like it was connected to some intricate mechanism. I tried to touch the vial, but my finger was too wide for the little hole it was set in. It looked like it was meant to hold a liquid of some sort. So I spat into it. And nothing happened. In fact, the saliva appeared to pass through the bottom of the little vial as though it were not there.
      So I looked back to the oil puddle, which was the only other thing in the room, other than the light, which was far above my reach. So I walked back to the oil puddle, and an idea began to form in my head. Was this some sort of puzzle? Maybe the oil was supposed to go into the little vial.
     I then tried to scoop the oil into my hands and carry it to the vial. It didn’t work, the oil found its way through the tiniest gaps between my hands. Then I tried pushing it along the floor, but found that that wouldn’t work either, as the oil was resting in a wide depression in the floor and simply flowed around my hands back to its original position.
     But I didn’t give up because I was desperate and I couldn’t think of anything else to do. So I pushed at it again, focusing very hard. This time, it actually made it out of the little dip. I was surprised by this, and that’s when I saw something that made me realize my life had been drastically altered by whatever operation it was that took place under my head.
     The oil was over the edge of both of my hands, but it was moving as though there were an invisible wall pushing it. I was so shocked by this that I lost my concentration and the oil went back to being a puddle. Some of it sloshed back into the depression. I caught my breath, and tried again, this time putting more focus through my mind. Slowly but surely the oil began to slide out of the depression. I then cupped by hands and found that with this newfound power, I could hold the oil as though my hands were a seamless container. I walked over to the little vial and poured the oil from my hands. It settled into the vial and didn’t pass through the bottom. Then, a small spark leapt across the top of the vial, causing a little bang, which resulted in a series of whirs and clicks inside the wall, ending in a panel falling off of the wall, opening a lit chamber wide enough for me to crawl through.
     I entered it and found myself blocked about 10 feet into the crawlspace by a transparent acrylic pane. Yes, I discovered it by ramming my face into it. On the other side of the pane there was a little ball, and a slot large enough for the ball to roll into. Remembering what had just happened in the previous room, I tried focusing on the ball, while running my hand over the pane close to it. Sure enough, after a few minutes of intense focus, the ball moved into the little hole, and after a few little humming noises, the pane slid upward into the wall of the chamber and I was able to crawl through the rest of it.
     It ended abruptly and I found myself on the floor of a large room. More specifically, I found myself inside of a locked, barred, wooden cell in the corner of a large room. The key was just outside of my reach, on the floor outside of the cell. I strained and reached for it before a strange realization struck me. These were a series of tests. Specifically, a series of tests designed to affirm that the surgery had gone well. Having gained a noticeable boost of confidence from realizing this, I pointed at the key and, using purely my new-found abilities, slid the key toward me across the floor, until it hit the bottom of the set of bars locking the cell. I bent down, picked it up, and unlocked the bars.
     I stepped out into the large room, and that’s when the darts started flying towards me from the walls.
 Part Three

About flaminglog

I am a novelist, a poet, and a musician. I love to create things. That is who I am. Who are you? (I'd love to meet you.)
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2 Responses to >Brain pt. 2

  1. infostation says:

    >You are good with describing. I'm enjoying it so far. Keep it up!

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