The White Room

"The room is unfamiliar," David groaned, standing up from the cold ceramic floor. "I don't know how I got here. You?"

            "No, I can't remember how I got here either. And I can't find a way out," the woman who called herself Denise answered. David noticed her hands wringing one another as she did another slow spin, observing the space he had just woken up in.

            His head pounded as if he had polished off a bottle of whiskey the night before, but he hadn't touched the stuff in years. The excessively bright lighting within the room didn't help matters. Shielding his eyes as he looked up, he took note that there weren't any bulbs or fixtures above them. Just another ivory white surface–like the walls and floor–except this one illuminated the entire room.

            David's brow furrowed as he looked around, his mind clawing through jumbled memories. Trying desperately to piece together what had brought him to this place. "The last thing I remember was putting my daughter to bed. I told her I loved her, closed her door, started walking down the hall to check on my wife, and then there was a-"

            "A flash?" she offered, stepping closer to him. 

            His eyes widened, and they met hers. "Yeah..." Thoughts of his daughter's safety suddenly consumed him and his heart rate nearly doubled.

            "Same. I was at home making a late dinner and then there was a bright flash. When I woke up I was here with you."

            "You sure these won't open?" he asked, already walking to one of the two doors that opposed each other in the small room. 

            "The doors are locked," she muttered, watching David switch from fruitlessly turning the knob to banging his fist on the door and shouting for them to be let out. "I tried them both while I was waiting for you to wake up."

            David rushed passed her to try the other door. She watched him repeat the same process of trying to turn the knob and then beating on the door as if his life depended on it. Again with no success.

            "Who do you think would do something like this to us?" Denise began walking to the one thing in the room that seemed out of place. 

            David joined her. "No one good. We need to find a way out of here. I need to know my daughter's okay." His words came out in heavy, stress-induced breaths that he was struggling to control. 

            She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he met her gaze. "I have a daughter too. But we have to stay calm and think this through if we're going to figure this out. Okay?" The tension in her grip suggested that she was saying it as much for her own sake as for his.

            "Okay," he agreed, just before letting out a long, controlled exhale. After a few rounds of controlled breathing, he asked, "You ever do any escape rooms?"

            "Once. My husband loves those things, but they aren't for me. I always feel like something is gonna jump out at me," she tucked her long black hair behind her ear and glanced over to him. "Why? Do you think that's what this is?"

            "Well, I mean, it's a room that we need to escape, so kind of." David chuckled as he cautiously reached out and tapped the glass on the window. "When I do them with friends I try to remember that the stuff that's most out of place is usually there for a reason. So why the hell is this here?"

            In front of them was a large single-hung window. The frame was made of the same white, ceramic like material as the walls and doors, but the glass seemed like regular glass. It was big enough for a person to fit through, but on the other side of the window was the white wall. Not any means of escape. 

            "Maybe..." Denise mumbled as she reached out to try the lock between the upper and lower panes. It turned. 

            The two looked at each other excitedly and he nodded, urging her to open it. Denise grabbed the bottom pane and slid it up. David held his breath, hoping that perhaps when the window opened, that section of wall would vanish like a mirage in the desert. Instead, he cursed under his breath when they saw that it really was just a wall behind it.

            "Well...that blows," David said through his hands as they vigorously rubbed his face. 

            Denise smirked at him.

            "What?"

            "My husband does that too when he's stressed."

            She slid the pane back down and David started to examen and feel around the frame, looking for some kind of clue. While he worked she walked to the center of the room. 

            "Maybe there's some small detail, or like, a kind of clue on the floors or the walls," she offered, starting to walk in slowly growing circles. Examining the ground with every step and glancing at the ceiling from time to time. David began to check the walls.

            Twenty minutes later she was standing in front of a door again, sighing.

            "I'll check out the other one," David announced as he went to the opposite side of the room.

            He crossed his arms as he eyed the smooth white door. He was trying to focus, but his mind kept pulling back to his daughter. 

            Every minute I'm in here is another minute she might be in danger, he thought as panic tried to bubble up from the depths of his mind.

            "Focus," he mumbled, slapping his cheeks. From what he had seen, the only difference between the two doors was that one was set up to be pushed and the other pulled. Slowly his hand traveled up and began stroking his chin. There weren't any imperfections he could see. He reached out and traced his fingers along the entirety of the frame, only feeling that cold smooth ceramic material. The white doorknob hand't turned even a fraction of an inch when he had put all of his strength into it, and there wasn't a keyhole. 

            He looked back at Denise as she worked. The way she posted out one leg, had a hand on her hip, and pointed at the door reminded him of how his wife stood when she was frustrated. He sighed as he grabbed the knob again. This time with a gentle exploratory touch instead of the white-knuckled, death-grip he had used previously. He didn't feel any imperfections or clues etched into it. Just like the rest of the door, it was perfectly-

            Click

            David froze and his eyes shot down to the knob. 

            "Hey my door just-" they both started in unison, but stopped and looked at each other. They each had their hands on a white ceramic doorknob. Denise took her hand off and they heard their respective doors click again.

            "That's it," she cheered, "that was the trick! We each had to be holding a handle!" She grabbed hers again and each door unlocked once more. She turned the knob and pulled the door open, as David pushed his. His heart raced at the thought of getting out and back to his family. When the door opened far enough for him to see the other side, his blood suddenly ran cold.

            Standing there, holding the doorknob on the other side was Denise. Her eyes were wide and her jaw hung open. After a few seconds he watched her mouth close and begin to tremble. David's heart had only been racing before, but now it was beating hard against his rib cage. Every beat felt like the shot of a cannon.

            "What the fu-" David breathed as he and Denise spun around, to look behind themselves. Twenty feet away stood another Denise, tightly gripping her doorknob and looking right back at him. Behind her was a man, turned away from David, and staring into another room. The black, long-sleeve shirt he wore and thin spot eroding his short brown hair were the same as David's. He raised his hand to point at the mysterious figure behind Denise, and that figures hand lifted too.

            A cold sweat ran down David's forehead. He slowly raised his hand and moved it back and forth, the stranger's hand mirroring his every motion. He looked at Denise, who had gone as white as the walls.

            David slowly turned back to the door, and saw Denise's back, only two feet away from him, shaking violently. 

            "Where the hell are we," he quavered.

            The woman in front of him screamed and let go of the doorknob. Instantly the door slammed shut, throwing David backward and to the ground. He heard the simultaneous clicks as the doors re-locked themselves. 

            "This can't be real," he breathed as he stood up on shaky legs. 

            "Stay away from me!" Denise shouted. 

            He turned to see her backing into a corner, pointing a finger at him with one hand, and grabbing at the center of her chest with the other. David brought up both hands as a show of peace, and took a step away from her.

            "You- wait. Are you a part of this?!"

            "What? No! I don't even know what's going on! I mean this-" David was starting to shout, but stopped. He closed his eyes and brought his hands together in meditative gesture, just front of his stomach. After several calming breaths, he forced his voice to be as calm as he could manage, "We are way beyond the realm of what should be possible. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I swear to God that I am not a part of it."

            She stared at him, burying herself further into the corner. Her jaw had become clenched ever since he had opened his eyes. "Then why do you keep doing things my husband does? Hmm? Just to screw with my head, you sick bastard!"

            "What the hell are you-" 

            "Let me out of here you asshole!" she screamed as she charged him.

            "Woah, hang on!"

            She started throwing punches at David, and he brought his arms up defensively. As her punches landed, he saw the woman crying from what he could only assume was the fear and the injustice of this insane situation. Seeing her cry solidified in his mind that she was just as much a victim as he was. She wasn't a part of whatever sick joke this was.

            "Will you stop? Please. Would you just-" his hands shot out and grabbed her wrists, he needed to stop her attack so they could talk and figure this out. That had been the plan anyway.

            The instant his skin touched hers, he felt a spark, like the strongest static shock of his life. They both recoiled and fell to the floor screaming. Each person gripping their heads. The pain cut through his skull like dull-axe. They writhed on the ground as a flood of memories broke through. When the pain receded they both lay on the ground moaning. 

            "Oh Jesus," Denise cried, crawling over to him. "David, sweetie, get up!"

            Her husband's eyes languidly rolled toward her. Slowly they regained their sense of lucidity.

            "D? What-" he groaned as she helped him to sit, "what the hell they do to us?"

            She wrapped her hands around him and cried, as he returned his wife's embrace.

            "H-how could they make us forget?" she stammered, as he rubbed her back.

            He shook his head on her shoulder, and let his face bury itself in the warmth of her neck.

            "Your beard tickles, you jerk. You know I hate that," she laughed through the tears. 

            "Do you remember what happened yet?" He asked her, as she pulled away and began to stand.

            "No. Still just the flash and then we were here," she extended a hand and helped him to stand. 

            "Shit," he grumbled, "we need to-"

            "Daddy! Mommy!"     

            They both turned toward the window frame.

            "Abigail!" Denise yelled, and they both rushed over to it.

            "Mommy! Where are you?!" Their daughter was screaming, her words laced with terror.

            "Baby, we're coming!" Denise's hand painfully gripping David's forearm. He was certain that her nails were breaking the skin, but he didn't care one bit. His daughter needed him and that was all that mattered. If she was hurt he would kill whoever did this.

            "Sweetheart, you're going to be okay. Where are you? Can you see anything?" he asked, trying to sound calm and reassuring. If Abby heard how unsteady he was, she might fall apart.

            "It's dark. I'm scared," their daughter sobbed. Her voice seemed to be drifting throughout the room now, coming from every inch of the space.

            "Okay, just hang tight, Mommy and I are going to come get you."

            "Promise?"

            "Pinky promise, baby girl."

            They waited for her to reply, but there was nothing.

            "Abby?" Denises voice cracked, betraying the fear she was fighting back.

            There was no answer. She was gone. Denise turned her husband to face her husband, "How the hell are we getting out of here?!" 

            He was still shaking with anger. Someone had put his daughter in danger. She was scared, and he wasn't there to protect her. 

            I'll kill them for this.

            He considered every possibility he could think of. The only things here, besides his wife and him, was the window to nowhere and those strange doors. He started to sag in despair, but then he remembered something he only just realized a few minutes ago; the laws of reality didn't seem to apply in this place. 

            "The window," he nodded his chin toward it, "if the doors can do that weird shit, then maybe it does something too?"

            Slowly her head turned to the window and she walked up to it. She unlocked it and slid up the bottom pain. Cautiously she reached her hand through the window and toward the section of wall that lay an inch beyond. When she touched it, the white porcelain wall rippled like water within the confines of the frame, and she pulled her hand back. She turned to look at David, and the pane slammed shut and locked itself. 

            "What the hell?" he mumbled, as the white walls all turned red, casting a bloody aura throughout the room.

            "David..." she said nervously as she walked backward toward him, never looking away from the window frame. 

            His breathing quickened when he heard the sound too. Coming from the other side of the window was a growl. It sounded distant, but it was getting closer. Fast. And he'd never heard anything like it before. It was almost at the wall.

            The creature roared and the walls of the room shook as something slammed against the window, Denise screamed and jumped backward into David's waiting arms. Whatever was on the other side kept slamming against the glass window. And the cracks were starting to show. 

            "The doors!" he yelled, and gently pushed her in the direction of one and he went to the other. The familiar click sounded as they grabbed the two doorknobs, but when they opened the doors, they were left once again looking at each other. This time he stepped through to her. The door slammed shut and ejected itself from her grip when he released the doorknob he had been holding.

            "David..." she squeaked, burying herself into his chest. Her eyes still locked on the cracks spiderwebbing across the glass

            He wrapped his arms around her, watching small pieces of glass begin to clatter to the floor. Breath steamed into the room through the breaks in the window with each cry of the monster they couldn't yet see. His wife began to sob and mumble their daughter's name. 

            What the hell am I missing, he thought.

            He reached beside himself and grabbed the knob once more. 

            Why would the doors only unlock if they both-

            His eyes went wide as the idea struck him. They went wider still as half the window exploded inward, glass shards slamming and sticking into the wall before David and his wife, but that didn't make her scream. 

            "Grab the handle!"

            The red lights began to flicker and strobe, and that didn't make her scream either. 

            "Grab! The! Handle!"

            What made her scream was what had come through the glass. 

            The creature's head and one unnaturally long arm were through. Its black skin squirmed as if worms crawled beneath the surface. Two glowing yellow, slit-like eyes locked onto them. Spittle flew passed dozens of long needle like teeth as it shrieked in a tangible blood lust. Its clawed hand slammed down on the hard, red floor and dragged back, leaving six deeps cuts in the hard surface. The walls shook again as it slammed against the now cracking frame, desperately trying to force its way into the room.

            "Denise, grab the fucking handle!" David shouted for the third time. She still didn't respond, so he grabbed her clenched fist and pulled it over to sit atop his own hand, that was currently gripping the doorknob. 

            Click

            Denise heard the sound and looked at the door, then at him, realizing what he had. It wasn't about both of them grabbing a knob. It was about doing it together!

            She opened her hand and gripped his own as he twisted the knob. The window frame clattered onto the floor as they opened the door to see a white space beyond the threshold. Heavy footsteps and a screeching demon raced at them as they dove into the light. And the door shut, and locked with a click.