Savage 97
Subject 46
When I wake, my senses are blurred, and I am trapped in a heavy fog of confusion. When the initial layer of haze lifts from my mind, my vision focuses, and I can now take in what is happening around me.
With my consciousness, I am met with a shock: my body is sprawled out onto the floor of a completely white room, with no furniture or windows to give it a homey feeling. There is nothing but white: white walls, a white ceiling, and a white floor that are all carbon copies of each other. It disorients me, and I have difficulty even telling my ups from my downs.
The wall I am facing seems to hold nothing but a door upon my first quick inspection of the space.
An eerie silence wraps around me, paired with the sterile scent of rubbing alcohol. It only takes a split second to realize that nothing in this tauntingly white room is at all familiar to me: I do not know where I am or how I got here.
But that is not the strangest thing: I have no recollection of who I am.
Upon this realization, the final remnants of sleep snap out of my mind, and I finally find myself at full attention. I waste no time lifting myself up off of the cold, white floor and onto my feet, finally noticing my unfamiliar attire. The outfit that adorns my body is a white tunic with white tights hugging my legs beneath it, with a pair of sturdy (and comfortable) black shoes covering my feet.
I hastily stretch my limbs, hearing the distinct cracking and popping of my joints as they become accustomed to the movement. As I start to give all of my attention to my surroundings, the endless waves of nothing but white start to seem to close in on me, threatening to drown me in their depths. This room is no bigger than ten by ten feet, and the feeling of fear and uneasiness intensifies.
I turn around to look at the back of the room, and end up standing face-to-face with a mirror. I stare at my reflection, absorbing every detail of the face that apparently belongs to me. The girl who looks back seems to be about sixteen years of age, with jet black hair that is pulled back into a ponytail which falls to the center of her back. Her eyes are icy blue and but in their depths I can almost taste the fear and confusion rustling around in her head.
The girl who stares back from the mirror is slim but as she lifts her arm up to assess her muscle, she realizes that she does have quite a bit of strength. This girl is me? What was I like? These thoughts run through my head and I start feeling panic clutch my body.
My instincts tell me to immediately head for the door.
As I turn around to approach the exit, I finally notice that something that appears to be a map is pinned to the wall beside it. I warily un-tack the map from the wall, and closely observe its contents. It appears to be a city, and a big one at that. The top is labeled ‘Savage 97’, though I do not know what it means. I must assume that this is a map of where I am. My eyes scan the ‘Savage 97’ map and a path that winds through the city streets marked with red ink catches my eye.
The path begins not too far from the outskirts of the city, at a building simply labeled ‘factory 6’. This must be where I am. My eyes follow the path through the city until it suddenly stops somewhere marked with a big red star that looks like the city square. It is my destination, I am guessing.
Below the portion of the wall where I retrieved the map, there is yet another piece of paper tacked onto the wall. I take this as well, and open it to reveal a message from my captor. It reads:
Why, hello my dearest Subject 46!
I stop reading for a short moment and contemplate what that could mean. It does not take long to realize that the writer of this note is calling me Subject 46. A chill runs through my body, but I read on:
Now that you have woken up, I can only assume that you realize you have no memory. If you want to know more about that, I must tell you that all will be revealed in good time if you have the fight to get to the point where I am able to reveal this information.
Moving on, above this note there is a map pinned to the wall. If you have not yet taken it, do so now and make sure that it is safe.
I clutch the map a bit tighter as if that would keep me from losing it. However, I do not tuck it into the buttoned pocket of my tunic yet, since I hope that the letter will later reveal more about it. I continue:
On this map, a path is marked: that is the path you must take. If you veer away from it even a bit, you never know what could appear from the shadows. Heed my warning closely, Subject 46. Only by following my instructions will you make it possible for you to win this game.
Moving on yet again, there is just one essential rule that you must follow at all costs:
You are required to make it to the meeting spot before sunrise. There is a watch on your right wrist that has a countdown, meaning you must be in the spot before the clock hits 0:00.
My vision immediately shoots down to my right wrist, where, sure enough, there is a thin black watch that is counting down. Looks like I have about four hours to make it to the meeting spot.
If you are curious as to why this is important, then I must tell you that if you do not make it, you will be eliminated from the preliminaries. I am placing a second warning right now: you do not want to know what ‘elimination’ truly means for this game.
I stop for a moment in horror. Not only does my captor imply death as the elimination, but this is all a game to him. And I am about to begin the preliminaries. I read on, though it is hard to make out the words when my hands shake so severely.
Finally, you most likely did not notice the nifty little jar tucked into the inside pocket of your tunic.
Again, I reach my hand to the inside of my tunic, and surely enough pull out a small jar with several little yellow spheres that resemble mini gumballs.
The little round things in that jar are your weapons. I will not reveal to you what they are or what they do, but I guarantee that you will find out soon enough. I can tell you, though, that yours is a good one!
Well, with that, I must bid you good luck. And remember, Subject 46… Time is a-ticking!
Oh… and P.S., you might want to get a move-on. It will take you at least four hours of walking to get to the square, and I can only take a guess that you will be cutting it close.
With this last adieu from the sicko who trapped me here without my memories, I quickly shove the jar back into my tunic and carefully tuck the map into my pocket, buttoning it closed and making sure that the map will not fall out. I throw the door open, revealing a dark and dank factory waiting for my arrival.
With my consciousness, I am met with a shock: my body is sprawled out onto the floor of a completely white room, with no furniture or windows to give it a homey feeling. There is nothing but white: white walls, a white ceiling, and a white floor that are all carbon copies of each other. It disorients me, and I have difficulty even telling my ups from my downs.
The wall I am facing seems to hold nothing but a door upon my first quick inspection of the space.
An eerie silence wraps around me, paired with the sterile scent of rubbing alcohol. It only takes a split second to realize that nothing in this tauntingly white room is at all familiar to me: I do not know where I am or how I got here.
But that is not the strangest thing: I have no recollection of who I am.
Upon this realization, the final remnants of sleep snap out of my mind, and I finally find myself at full attention. I waste no time lifting myself up off of the cold, white floor and onto my feet, finally noticing my unfamiliar attire. The outfit that adorns my body is a white tunic with white tights hugging my legs beneath it, with a pair of sturdy (and comfortable) black shoes covering my feet.
I hastily stretch my limbs, hearing the distinct cracking and popping of my joints as they become accustomed to the movement. As I start to give all of my attention to my surroundings, the endless waves of nothing but white start to seem to close in on me, threatening to drown me in their depths. This room is no bigger than ten by ten feet, and the feeling of fear and uneasiness intensifies.
I turn around to look at the back of the room, and end up standing face-to-face with a mirror. I stare at my reflection, absorbing every detail of the face that apparently belongs to me. The girl who looks back seems to be about sixteen years of age, with jet black hair that is pulled back into a ponytail which falls to the center of her back. Her eyes are icy blue and but in their depths I can almost taste the fear and confusion rustling around in her head.
The girl who stares back from the mirror is slim but as she lifts her arm up to assess her muscle, she realizes that she does have quite a bit of strength. This girl is me? What was I like? These thoughts run through my head and I start feeling panic clutch my body.
My instincts tell me to immediately head for the door.
As I turn around to approach the exit, I finally notice that something that appears to be a map is pinned to the wall beside it. I warily un-tack the map from the wall, and closely observe its contents. It appears to be a city, and a big one at that. The top is labeled ‘Savage 97’, though I do not know what it means. I must assume that this is a map of where I am. My eyes scan the ‘Savage 97’ map and a path that winds through the city streets marked with red ink catches my eye.
The path begins not too far from the outskirts of the city, at a building simply labeled ‘factory 6’. This must be where I am. My eyes follow the path through the city until it suddenly stops somewhere marked with a big red star that looks like the city square. It is my destination, I am guessing.
Below the portion of the wall where I retrieved the map, there is yet another piece of paper tacked onto the wall. I take this as well, and open it to reveal a message from my captor. It reads:
Why, hello my dearest Subject 46!
I stop reading for a short moment and contemplate what that could mean. It does not take long to realize that the writer of this note is calling me Subject 46. A chill runs through my body, but I read on:
Now that you have woken up, I can only assume that you realize you have no memory. If you want to know more about that, I must tell you that all will be revealed in good time if you have the fight to get to the point where I am able to reveal this information.
Moving on, above this note there is a map pinned to the wall. If you have not yet taken it, do so now and make sure that it is safe.
I clutch the map a bit tighter as if that would keep me from losing it. However, I do not tuck it into the buttoned pocket of my tunic yet, since I hope that the letter will later reveal more about it. I continue:
On this map, a path is marked: that is the path you must take. If you veer away from it even a bit, you never know what could appear from the shadows. Heed my warning closely, Subject 46. Only by following my instructions will you make it possible for you to win this game.
Moving on yet again, there is just one essential rule that you must follow at all costs:
You are required to make it to the meeting spot before sunrise. There is a watch on your right wrist that has a countdown, meaning you must be in the spot before the clock hits 0:00.
My vision immediately shoots down to my right wrist, where, sure enough, there is a thin black watch that is counting down. Looks like I have about four hours to make it to the meeting spot.
If you are curious as to why this is important, then I must tell you that if you do not make it, you will be eliminated from the preliminaries. I am placing a second warning right now: you do not want to know what ‘elimination’ truly means for this game.
I stop for a moment in horror. Not only does my captor imply death as the elimination, but this is all a game to him. And I am about to begin the preliminaries. I read on, though it is hard to make out the words when my hands shake so severely.
Finally, you most likely did not notice the nifty little jar tucked into the inside pocket of your tunic.
Again, I reach my hand to the inside of my tunic, and surely enough pull out a small jar with several little yellow spheres that resemble mini gumballs.
The little round things in that jar are your weapons. I will not reveal to you what they are or what they do, but I guarantee that you will find out soon enough. I can tell you, though, that yours is a good one!
Well, with that, I must bid you good luck. And remember, Subject 46… Time is a-ticking!
Oh… and P.S., you might want to get a move-on. It will take you at least four hours of walking to get to the square, and I can only take a guess that you will be cutting it close.
With this last adieu from the sicko who trapped me here without my memories, I quickly shove the jar back into my tunic and carefully tuck the map into my pocket, buttoning it closed and making sure that the map will not fall out. I throw the door open, revealing a dark and dank factory waiting for my arrival.
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Hello :) This is 'Savage 97', and if you want me to continue it, then leave a comment for me!