Tanked

Nothing - Chapter 5

I stared into the white hallway. It was almost blinding, actually, the way the white walls and floor reflected the light.

I walked slowly, wary of this unknown world. I turned the corner, expecting to see more white, but instead I saw a flash of black, and all of a sudden, I was on the floor, something’s wet tongue slobbering all over my face, its nearly bare ribs digging into mine.

I wrestled myself into an upright position, pushing the thing away- I could feel that it was some kind of animal, because it had fur.

Once I got it away from me, I could see that it was clearly just a dog, a black german shepherd.

I stroked its ears and head, smiling- this could possibly be the best thing that has happened to me all day.

The dog seemed to smile back, his dark eyes trained on my face, and his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, a drip of saliva threatening to fall out of his jowls.

It seemed that I was the best thing that happened to him all day, too.

"C’mon buddy. Let’s go find you some food.” I say, scratching behind his ears one more time, glad to have something to talk to, even if it couldn’t talk back.

Together, we continued hobbling down the corridor. I was short, and he was huge, so the tips of my fingers were able to lightly stroke his head while we walked. 

I knew he was just a dog, but there was something reassuring about having something else living walking beside me. It was so desolate here, wherever here was, and I couldn’t help but feel lonely.

We came to another door. It looked exactly the same as the last one, but there was a red light on top of this one, and it seemed to be making the “BEEP BEEP BEEP” noise that I couldn’t get away from.

I pushed on it, expecting it to drift open like the other door, but it stayed, stubborn and unmoving. Great, I think. So am I just supposed to die in here?

There had to be another way out. There was always another way in the movies, at least I thought there was- I couldn’t remember any movies, but something in my brain felt like that was probably a popular movie cliche.

I walked back to the crossroads where I found Rocky- that’s what I decided to name him, because of the pile of rubble that he seemed to just appear out of.

This hall was different. There were a lot of turns, and each time I turned a corner, the brilliant white began to fade more and more into a tan-ish orange.

Curious, I dragged a finger along the wall. It left a mark of white where I had touched it, looking foreign in a sea of the orange material. It stuck to my finger, and I now noticed it was also sticking to my feet, but it obviously wasn’t paint, and I had ruled out dust too because one, dust isn't orange, and two, whatever was on the walls was too grainy to be dust. It had to be some strange type of sand.

This only peaked my curiosity, so I quickened my step with Rocky at my side, the walls now almost completely orange. I started to feel a small breeze across my skin, cooling the surface and making my clothes flutter upward a little.

I began to move even faster, knowing that it was most likely a bad idea, but going anyway. I turned another corner, expecting to see more orange-tan hallway, but instead I saw nothing.

I couldn’t explain it- it was just nothing.

Nothing but the red sand desert stretching out before me, the wind whispering in my ear, moving the sand gently.

The hall, I could see, had been torn away somehow, because the metal edges were spiky and glowing, as if something hot had separated the hallway abruptly. I sat down at the edge of the desert and the barely visible metal floor, Rocky lying his dark head down on my criss-crossed legs.

I tilted my face up towards the sun, letting it warm my skin. The line between uncertainty and safety had never been thinner.