Administration

Ever heard the story of the moth who came into Darryl’s room?

It died.

You would expect the poor moth to get a treat of its wrath through the usual “hand-clapping” style, didn’t you?

Noticed the disintegration of the bug’s wings and body parts. The bits and pieces of the wings are flown and scattered on the carpet.

If you thought burning the moth is cruel, meet The Bug Zapper! The 2 AA battery charges up and generates few hundred watts of electricity to its metal rods enough to electrocute and then toast the shit out of any bugs, insects or little creatures! WARNING: It is not wise to zap thyself.

Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker! Burn! Mwahahahahaha!

Cokeman 1, Moth 0

And that’s how it’s done.

NOTICE:
No bugs were harm during the filming of this feature presentation. ONLY PESTS!

“Hit the lights!” you said.

“Why? What the hell for?” Lawrence demanded.

You were starting to feel agitated with his questions. Moments like this do not come often. In the end, you’ll either be dead being shot; or some twisting death surprise. Whatever it is, you know you’ll end up dead anyway.

“You’ll see,” you replied.

Lawrence struggled abit to lift himself up after laying on the floor for some time. His pale look gave you the impression that he was feeling cold. After his attempt to push the switch, the cheap-looking white fluorescents finally turned off.

It was pitch black. Dark. Like the first time you opened your eyes. Only this time you noticed a very pale whitish glow on the wall adjacent to the pipes where Lawrence was chained to.

It was not very difficult to make out what that glowing symbol was on the wall. It was a shape of an X.

“Now, would you look at that?” you asked with great curiosity and in awe. You felt that everytime a piece of the puzzle is put together, a glowing chance of you leaving this sewage-like room became eminent.

Lawrence Gordon slowly turned his head towards the wall behind him, afraid to see what was in stored for him. His hands were still on the switch. He then mumbled, “… but it wasn’t there before…”.

While you were still locked on to the glimering sight, you replied, “I think it must have been a fluorescent paint or something. The lights must have recharged it.” It was the only intelligent explanation you could came up with.

He was still amazed with the latest discovery of the glowing paint. His tattered pale blue shirt suggested a slight struggle when he was beaten up unconscious before coming in to this room. His black khakies - dusted with powdered stains and black mud-like markings from the cemented tiles. He hit the switch to turn back on the lights.

The doctor approached the glowing wall with careful steps. He caressed the wall with his fingers and knocked them lightly every few moments, in search for hollow wall backings. The knock thuds sounded similar except for an small area across the X, which responded with a mellower tone. He fondled around the floor nearby for some tool that could be used to break the wall.

“Try the saw,” you suggested.

Smiling in appreciation for your brilliant idea, he grabbed the saw by the handle and hit the wall as hard as possible with its teeth. After a few tries, the wooden wall backing began to cracked. He continued breaking, until a small hole was then made.

His eyes widened when he saw the content of the hole. He threw the saw behind him, and continued fixating his view on the hole.

This irritated you because you were too anxious to know what it was. “What was it?” you asked. You could not help but contain your excitement, as your heart was pounding faster every second. You felt a mixture of fear and excitement rushing through your vains. Yet every step Lawrence made felt like forever.

The hole was small. He carefully squeezed his hands, worried of the remaining splinters at the edges of the broken wall. Within moments a black chest began to emerge as he slowly pulled it out from the hole.

He fell back and sat down as he tried to open the chest. He seemed disappointed as he tried to separate the box cover from its body. He lifted his eyes. “It’s locked.”

You exclaimed with instinct, “The key!” You turned behind towards the pipes, trying to find the little key which you used in attempt to open your set of locks earlier. The key was in sight after a quick searched through the small rubble of broken tiles in the corner. “Here!”, you said as you threw the key towards him.

He reached out his arm and carefully caught the key, with fear he might hit the key away instead. He shout out a quick thank you and he fumbled for the lock on the chest. He inserted the key and a slight turn resulted in a light click, audible in this quiet room. He quickly opened the small box, in excitement. He turned the box upside down; came fell some set of items that does not seem to make sense - a cellphone, two cigarettes, a lighter and a piece of paper with some scribblings.

Lawrence screamed in excitement when the cellphone was working. “Woohoo!” he screamed while raising his arm in victory. “This is what we’re talking about, baby!”

I was part-overjoyed, but I sensed from the back of my head that some disappointment was lying in front of us. I could not but forced a grin when I saw how excited and happy the doctor was.

He keyed a couple of buttons, and pressed the phone against his right ear. A few seconds passed. The joy in his laughter became discouraging when it melted into the echoes of the enclosed room. “No… it can’t be,” his sorrows noticeable as he was in denial of the tone which he heard over the earpiece. He tried keying a different set of numbers again, but his facial expression did not improve.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he screamed in anguish. His rage was bursting into flames. It looked as if his emotional became senile. He sweared continuously with a set of words which sounded completely fresh. “This is absofuckinglutely rediculous, suckmyfuckinglanciaopunyacibaihai!” he continued. It sounded a mixture of ten different diallects. “What the hell do you want from me???” he screamed towards the ceilings before he broke down to his knees as he concealed his tears of pain with the palm of his hands, in a bitter cry.

The flame of hope once burning in my heart dwindled when I saw that poor man forcing out every bit of water remaining in his body. Ashley’s life was hanging by a thread every minute that passed by. The seconds needle was still moving, waiting for no one. You observed around the room for any remaining clues.

With only one hour and 5 minutes remaining, what would your next step be?

You opened your eyes. Suddenly, you found yourself drowning in a tub of water. You staggered, lifting your head up to the surface trying to gasp for air. While lifting yourself up, your back pocket buckle was pulled by a piece of rubber stopper that has been stopping the water from flowing down all this while. Your staggering force released the stopper as the water begin to flow down the hole. A tinkling sound was heard as the water flowed. It was dark. The dead-rat-smelling stench was bad enough to kill a hyena. You grabbed hold of the tub’s wall to help you get out.

You screamed. Horrified. “Anyone there? Help.” you asked in a fearful tone.

“Yes I’m here. Who are you?” was the response. “There must be a switch somewhere.”

After a few short moments, the fluorescent light flickered and the room was litted. Not too bright. Toilet lights bright.

The sudden brightness blinded you a minute or two. You shielded your eyes with your palm until you slowly got used to the surrounding brightness. A middle-aged man standing about 20 feet away across the dampen room, chained to a 10-inch thick pipe; a toilet bowl on the right side of the room within your reach. A body, which you can easily pressumed is dead, surrounded by a pool of blood lied in between the both of you and the middle-agred blonde dude. The dead body had a pistol on his left hand, and a mini-cassette player on his right.

You turned to your side and you also noticed your leg was chained to a pipe as thick as the one right across the room.

The blonde dude identified himself as Dr. Gordon. He was trying to tell you the last thing he remembered doing before waking up to this bathroom. Your usual habit to scanned your pockets has led of to a dumb-folding discovery of an envelope in your right pocket, with your name largely printed on it. As your tore open the white envelope, you see a little audio cassette.

The blonde dude’s chattery came to a halt when he noticed you weren’t paying attention to him. He asked, “Think, man! What were you doing here the last…” Before he could finished, he fumbled and like you, he also discovered an envelope with a mini-cassette in it. He also saw a bullet and a very small key.

You tried retrieving the mini-cassette player from the body’s right hand, but the chains limited your movements. You took off your shirt, attempting to fling it to loosen the grip of the dead man’s hand. But it wasn’t a success. You turned back to the bathtub and noticed the rubber stopper had a chain attached. You tied the chain to your shirt and continued your attempt to retrieve the mini-cassette player. After a few tries, the stopper managed to grip onto one of the player’s groove. You pulled the player towards you.

You inserted the cassette and pressed “Play”:

“Hello Adam. If you could listen to this, I’m sure you’re well and ready to begin your escape. You wanna know where you are? I’ll tell you where you are - you might be in the room that you’ll die in. You might ask yourself what happened to the poor dead guy in front of you. Well, if there’s too much poison in your blood, the only thing left to do… is to shoot yourself. Follow your heart.” and the message ended.

Gordon demanded his turn to listen to his cassette, but you refused.

“Why the fuck, man? I wanna listen to my tape too!” Gordon was furious.

“You throw your tape over. I don’t want to risk destroying the player,” you replied.

Gordon relented, and threw his cassette over to you. You took out your tape. And inserted his tape into the player:

“Hi Lawrence. You aim in this game is to kill Adam with the bullet in the envelope. You have until 6 o’clock. Or else, your cute little princess Ashley’s blood will be in your hands. Remember, doctor. (whispers) X marks the spot!”

Lawrence looked around and saw a clock pointing to 3:05 on the wall. You can sense that he does not want to resort to bloodshed. He cried. He told the story of his little Ashley, and threw his wallet over to you.

“You can see my kid’s photo in my wallet.”

You flipped open his wallet, and noticed some pictures of her. Your judgement told you she was about 5. After flipping through, there was a picture of her being tied up, with a gun pointing to her temples. As Lawrence was crying, you secretly took out the picture and returned his wallet.

You turned the picture behind, and noticed some scribbling behind. You wonder what it means.

Lawrence remembered the small key that came together in his envelope. He rushed to the two gigantic 10lbs. padlocks latching him to the pipes. He pushed the key into the padlocks but the keyholes were way too big.

“Throw them over here,” you requested. Your tone of voice sounded hopeless.

He tossed the key over. Likewise, the keyholes were too big for the little key found together with Lawrence.

Lawrence uttered, “That sick son of a bitch wants us chained here. He wants us to solve his damn game.” He lowered his head.

You looked at the brand new clock that was attached on the wall above the entrance of the bathroom. You assumed it was up there for a purpose - to tell Lawrence that the time is up.

Minutes later, “Replay your tape again, man!” Lawrence broke the silence.

“Why?” you asked.

“Just play the damn tape!”

You picked up the cassette player from the corner side of the floor, where you last left it. You noticed the floor tiles were broken. You replaced the tape.

“Hello Adam. If you could listen to this, I’m sure you’re well and ready to begin your escape. You wanna know where you are? I’ll tell you where you are - you might be in the room that you’ll die in. You might ask yourself what happened to the poor dead guy in front of you. Well, if there’s too much poison in your blood, the only thing left to do… is to shoot yourself. Follow your heart,” and you pressed the stop button.

You felt a slight gush of cold wind coming in from a little ventilation above you, along with the pipes leading upside. You are afraid. But you know you have to be strong.

Lawrence continuosly mumbled, “… followed your heart…”.

“What you’re up to, man?” you asked, curious.

He looked around him. “It’s gotta be here somewhere.”

“Talk to me! What the hell you looking for?” you raised your voice, in curious excitement.

“Damn it, look around you! Anything with a heart symbol,” Lawrence suggested.

You did a quick scan on the walls. Nothing. The flooring tiles. Nothing. The walls of the bath-tub. Nothing. As you were turning your back towards Lawrence, the sudden thought came to your mind.

With excitement, you turned towards the toilet. The heart-shaped symbol was becoming clearer as you crawled towards it. It was printed on the walls of the tank.

“I found it!” you exclaimed. You then took a quick peek in the toilet bowl. The water was hazy-yellowish. A few bits of faeces was noticeable. The smell was horrendous.

“No way I’m gonna put my hand down there,” you said.

Lawrence was dissatisfied with the look on my face. His eyes told me that he couldn’t wait to leave this place. The chains were his only problem. His daughter needed him. I know I would, if she’s mine.

I peered down the bowl again. As I prepare my guts, my right hand - holding on to the edge. Million and one things were going up and about in my head. I would be the Fear Factor champion if I could do this. I lowered my right palm into the bowl. My eyes shut in digust. I held my breath. Tighten my lips. My palm wondered under the water but nothing was down there.

“Anything yet?” he asked.

“Can’t find anything solid!” you shouted back.

“Check the tank.” Lawrence suggested.

“You son of a bitch. Couldn’t you suggest that first?” you sneered. Your palms were wet and covered with yellowish gooey-looking plascenta as you lifted them from the bowl.

You opened the tank cover and saw a black bag. You lifted it out from it. You searched for the opening of the bag; and found two small pipe-saws. You took one out and quickly attempt to saw the chains.

“Can’t you throw the other one here, you idiot?”

You took your saw and tossed it over to Lawrence, who’s eyes were already glittered with joy when he saw the blades coming towards him. He attempted to saw his chains.

You continued sawing for a minute with all the force you could. It was just impossible. You knew it. The chains were way too thick. The sewage pipes were also way too big for the saw. By now your frustration pushed you to saw even harder, but soon your saw-blade broke in half.

He stopped sawing. Lawrence exclaimed, “This is not for sawing chains.” There was a moment of pause. He looked up to me with a disappointing look, “They’re used to saw our legs”.

Your frustration broke out. Your screamed continously, in fear. In pain. You’re on the verge of emotional break down. You grabbed one of the broken pieces of the tiles laid on the corner and threw it on the mirrors where the washing sink is. A small piece of the glass fragment broke out and narrowly missed Lawrence’s uncovered face.

“Fuck you, asshole! Calm down, man! You’re gonna get us all killed before 6,” Lawrence’s instinct led him to shield his face with his thighs.

It was 4:25. The clock was still ticking.

A few minutes past. You’re rested and calmed. You feel tired. Your eyes were painfully red. You kept your head up, and have not given up.

What would you next do?