"An exercise in..." well you know the rest

The door on the right. Smith was certain it was the right choice, the left door made him nervous. Smith wasn't sure why they looked identical, but his father had always told Smith to trust his gut, so right it was.

Smith twisted the doorknob and giving it a gentle push. It opened easily enough with creaking, the left door would have squeaked for sure, thought smith. Looking past the threshold Smith saw a living room. A dark brown couch sat at the center of the room facing a fireplace, with a small fire going. Paintings lined the walls depicting mountainscapes. A lamp giving off a pale orange light stood alone in the corner. There were no other doorways in the room.

Smith stepped inside. A normal enough room. Nothing has been disturbed. It feels almost clinical in its cleanliness. Why am I in this room again? Smith turned back, he had made the wrong choice, this was the wrong room. But the door was gone. A bare wall with a painting of a hallway stared back at Smith. Taking a few deep breathes Smith walked over to the couch and sat down.

Think Smith, you walked into this room for a reason. Why do I know this is the wrong room. No, I think I'm in the wrong room. Who's to say the other door led to the right room. But, if the other room is also wrong, then why am I here?

Smith took deep, calm breathes. He wasn't going to get anywhere if he started to panic. Trying to remember his reason for being here only gave Smith a headache. So instead of focusing on the why Smith moved on to the how. Figuring out how to get out of here came first. Smith got up and looked over the room again. It gave him an odd sense of deja vu. He walked over to each of the paintings and examined them more closely, he realized they were all the same mountain, a cabin sitting at the base. Each painting was from a slightly different angle. They were photos, that Smith had taken. Now I'm getting somewhere. Is that where I am, inside the cabin? But that didn't explain the disappearing door or help him with getting out of here. He moved back to the painting of the hallway. It wasn't the hallway Smith had walked through when he got to the two doors. Now that Smith thought about it, he didn't walk through a hallway, he simply was at the doors.

Smith tore the painting off the wall in frustration. There was a hole where the painting had been. Immediately Smith felt a sense of dread, he shouldn't have done that. Once again he had done the wrong thing. Once again... I've done this before. Many times. This place, this painting, that cabin. Over and over and over. Smith had gone through this exact same scenario dozens of times now. He had figured it out a few loops back. He was stuck here, between two choices of doors. Each time he chose the wrong door, got angry and tore the painting off the wall. Each time restarting the loop after going through the hole the painting left behind, losing his memory in the process. Not this time, thought Smith, I will get out this time.

Smith tried to put the painting back over the hole, the wall seemed to almost grow around the painting as it returned it to its place. That definitely wasn't right. It felt like a dream, but it felt too real for that to be true. Maybe someone is doing this to me. Using drugs to erase my memory each time. But why? Smith shook his head. If someone was doing this to him, there was no way to know why.

Smith sight and went over to the other paintings. Taking each one of them off the wall. These paintings didn't have a hole behind them. Smith moved the couch, nothing underneath. He moved over to the fireplace, maybe I can climb my way out. Smith took off his jacket and used it to suffocate the fire. He looked up the chimney, there was light at the top.

Smith controlled his excitement, the chimney was narrow, it wouldn't be an easy climb. He took off his shoes and socks and covered his hands in ash for leverage. He began the climb up.

The higher Smith went, the narrower the chimney became. He was forced to shift his position. Smith's foot slipped, he caught himself but not before some loose brick cut open his heel. Gritting his teeth Smith continued upwards. I am getting out of here.

With one final push Smith reached the top. He exited the chimney and rolled onto the roof. He took a moment to catch his breath before looking out.

The same mountainscape from the pictures. "YES! Finally, I'm finally out of that hell." Smith stood and started looking for a way down. He decided the drain pipe was his best bet. Smith was drenched in sweat from his climb up, but he needed to push on just a bit longer. He was careful to only put some of his weight at first. Slowly, he made his way down. Keeping off as much from his heel as possible.

Smith was lucky, the drain pipe held. Moving over to the front of the cabin Smith looked over it. It was normal looking, a place someone would come to spend some time away from the city. There was a lake nearby to fish.

Smith smiled. His memories where coming back. He had been sent here. People had kept disappearing here. Smith had been hired as a P.I. by the family of one of the missing. He would need to get back into town, call his office. It was miles from here though. Smith looked down at his foot. He wasn't getting far with that cut. He tore a piece from his shirt and bandaged his foot the best he could.

Smith started walking down the trail that led to the cabin. He wasn't sure what time of day it was, but he would risk walking through the forest at night if it meant leaving that cabin behind. There was something up with this cabin, but he would leave it up to others to figure out what. His job was done.

[Expirement #1190 Complete]

[Itereations before completion: 37]

[Number of times entered the right door: 37]

[Number of times entered the left door: 0]

[Subject was unable to overcome the uneasy feeling coming from the left door.]

[Expirement #1191 Started]

The door on the right. Smith was certain it was the right choice, the left door made him nervous. Smith wasn't sure why they looked identical, but his father had always told Smith to trust his gut, so right it was.