Byun Baekhyun, day one 22:07

I woke up this morning with a pounding headache. The light hanging behind my eyelids didn’t make it any better. The air was odorless but it still affected me as if there was a scent. Perhaps someone had snuck chemicals into my room while I slept. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen to me.

When I did open my eyes, I was met not with my room but padded, white walls. The unfamiliar environment startled me awake and caused me to sit up to abruptly. The headache only got worse because of it.

There was nothing in the room save for myself, not even a bed of any kind. I discovered myself to be sleeping on a sponge-like floor. Examining the walls for a means to exit proved futile. They were covered in the white padding.

Looking up at the ceiling, I found there was no source of light from there. My next guess was it was somehow emitted from the room itself. I caught myself calling out to someone, anyone who could turn them down just a little bit. The shouting only resulted in my headache getting that much worse.

It wasn’t until I stopped shouting that I got some kind of response.

“Good morning, Mr. Byun.” Came a metallic voice that sounded somewhat female. “We are glad you are awake. Is there anything you need help with?” It was an uncomfortable thing, listening to the disembodied voice and needing to reply.

“Can someone turn down the light, please?” I could hear the whine in my own voice. It made me sick to my stomach to have to resort to that but they didn’t give me much choice. The metallic voice answered, so completely devoid of emotion I was convinced it couldn’t have been a real person.

“You’ll have to do that yourself, Mr. Byun.” The voice didn’t care to elaborate before I could hear a click signaling that it was no longer speaking to me.

Trying to decipher its words proved harder than originally thought and my headache only got worse by staring into the reflective surface the padded walls. It felt like I was going to go crazy. Still does.

I could’ve sworn hours passed with no sign of progress. The light seemed to only taunt me as it got brighter. It got to the point where I was so frustrated I nearly ripped my hair out. Instead of focusing on the light, I decided to try to remember what could’ve brought me there.

The last thing I remember is blacking out at my apartment. I have no idea how that could’ve led me to waking up here, maybe it has something to do with the odorless odor hanging in the stale air. It’s as if there’s no ventilation in here. I wouldn’t be too surprised. It would probably take technology far beyond our current understanding to succeed in having invisible ventilation.

I don’t know who or what brought me here but it feels sinister. I don’t think I should be here.