Fragmented Echoes. Chapter 1: Undeground Hell

Act 2: Errors in memory. Part 3: Test walker

I come back to light, desperately and greedily pumping my lungs with air, gasping and looking around, but my vision is blurry and everything blinds me. I cover my eyes with a hand. Uh, ebat, I feel sick..and my ass hurts. No prizes for guessing why. It feels like the first time I tried to roll on top of my roller. But I rolled back while standing still .. and fell down the stairs right onto that poor, ugly ass of mine. Ack.

Speaking of falling up - no, down. Yes. Falling down. Where was I? Actually, where am I? Is this another dream where I die like an idiot? Kinda reminds me of that one movie - Inception. A dream within a dream. Or was I awake for some time before falling asleep again? Hell if I know. Everything felt so real... I look out the window. Is this just another dream? It feels real... maybe it is real. I'm not an expert on dreaming versus reality. Maybe it is real. Yeah, probably.

Wait. I keep repeating the same old thoughts. That doesn't seems right. Because last time I saw another person repeating the same old thoughts, he was having a stroke. Poor bastard was like a broken tape recorder. And he continued to act like normal - minus the looping. We even tried to hold a conversation with him, but it's like talking to a zombie - all half-dead. I never saw him at work after that... Pleasant thoughts aside, I remove my hand and open my eyes. The light is still bright, but I can take it. I pause for a moment to recover.

It's hard to think without screaming. My left hand is dying from something. I lift it and make a disappointing discovery - it's just a needle with thin transparent tubes, connected to some kind of mini box. Its content and purpose? Unknown, as everything is these days. It's not sucking my blood, so thought deductive reasoning, they therefore are sucking something else out of my body. Pff. Logic - a nonexistent thing in this place. Realism aside, I hope this thing isn't injecting liquid love for Minecraft, Roblox and russian cinema - I can not stand such torture! But who did this, anyway?

"Asshole! Are you here?"

I tried to call him, but I get only my own echo in response.

" .... Asshole!! Come on here, I need to talk!"

Still no answer. I would've gone after him, but I was kind of chained to a chair.

"AGENT ASSHOLE! COME OUT TO PLAY! I... UH... I HAVE YOUR SILENT PORN RIGHT HERE!"

I nearly lose my voice from crying so loud. But instead of the man I need, I manage to attract the attention of someone less funny and pleasant.

"No need to shout. And my name is Universal Arti-"

Tartar...

"Yea-Yea, I heard that already." He's frankly irritating.

"Where is Agent Asshole? And where is your CQ Cumber? Last time I saw him he-"

"He won't be able to provide assistance to you. Neither of them will. Changing the subject, you are incredibly lucky to have survived an encounter with those traitors. They hunted you down and..."

Nice try, machine. But you're not gonna get away. I want my answers."Fucked me, thanks, captain obvious. But what about those drip trays I'm connected to? What's in the box?"

"That box provides you with medicine, antitoxins and food. Yes, it's liquid food, dispensed in your body via intravenous feeding. Your body required provision and I don't have the means or desire to feed you like a baby."

"Hold on...it - fucking needles stings - it doesn't make sense."

"Specify."

"I mean, if you can't feed me directly," I point at the drip trays, "how the hell did you managed add a drip here and connect me to it?"