Having no clue as to what Chance told Ms. Waters, Dez could only presume that he came up with a similar plan to hers. This was due to the fact that she was called for no more exams for the remainder of the week. Instead, she played her role of normality and passed the time by. Thankfully, no flies entered her room during the night either. She would purposefully stay up late into the early morning just to make sure no one came inside.
At the current moment, however, it was the seventh night, or rather the last night before Chance and she made their trip to the sublevel. She had never felt quite so excited before. Well, maybe she had when she entered the sitting room, but this was even more than that. Not only was she going behind the white doors but also she was going to be on an entirely new floor.
Hopefully, they would find answers to the actual meaning of the conversation between Ms. Waters and her mother. Granted, Chance's assumptions seemed to make sense. Thus, if he were right, then all they would need is her mother's reasons. Why was her mother looking for shared characteristics between Chance and her? What goal was she working towards?
Pushing her curiosities aside, she needed to focus on retrieving a screwdriver. She knew there was one in one of the kitchen drawers, since she came across it a few years back. Of course, the chefs weren't pleased with her snooping around their workplace, but she had merely stated that she forgot where the forks were. Groans of annoyance were passed among them before they returned to their tasks.
Right now, she didn't need to worry about the chefs but the camera in the kitchen. It would seem odd for her to open a drawer that she rarely touched in the past. The guard or guards that watched the cameras would know which drawer the utensils were in. Thus, she would need to figure out a way to get the screwdriver without seeming suspicious. Knowing that she could pull something off, she exited her room, wearing a black jacket, white tank top, black shorts and black slippers.
On her way to the kitchen, she took notice that the one light bulb had been replaced. Once again, the bright light reflected off the beige tile and illuminated the nearby white doors. Personally, she wished that it wouldn't be fixed. All of the lights in this hall weren't needed. They only added to the feeling of being constantly watched. Technically, she was under continual surveillance, though, due to the security cameras.
Soon, though, she had entered the kitchen. Looking around at the metal filled room, she wondered what she could due to fool the person watching in the security room. Her grey eyes landed on the fridge, and a simple plan came to mind. Opening the metal box, she pulled out a carton of orange juice. With that in hand, she set it on the metal kitchen island and took the cap off after closing the refrigerator. She proceeded to grab a glass for the juice from one of the metal cupboards. Once the glass was in her hand, she set it on the island. Instead of pouring the juice into the glass, she pretended to accidently knock the carton of juice over.
As the orange liquid spilled onto the floor, she picked the carton back up and set it on the counter. With that part of the plan completed, she searched the kitchen for a towel. During this investigation, she stopped at the drawer where she remembered seeing the screwdriver. Opening that drawer and the drawer next to it, she angled herself so that the camera could only see the back of her. Quickly, she spotted the screwdriver and placed it in her inside jacket pocket. With the item she desired now in her grasp, she closed both drawers and proceeded with finding a towel. The moment she found one, she heard the kitchen door open. Halting her movement, she turned around to see someone unexpected.
"Ah, Deziree, I wasn't expecting to find you in here," Ms. Waters stated, her eyes drifting between Dez and the spilled juice.
"I'm just getting a snack."
"Yes, though, that is quite the mess. Here, let me help. You give me that towel, and you get another for yourself but wet it first."
Seeing no reason to argue, Dez handed over the white towel to Ms. Waters before retrieving another from the drawer she found the first one in. Following the woman's instructions, she wet the towel and returned to the spill. She waited for the woman to finish before she wiped the area, making sure that the floor wouldn't become sticky. When Dez completed her task, she tossed the towel in the sink and poured herself some orange juice, or at least she attempted to anyway. Ms. Waters took the carton from her and poured it into Dez's glass. Even though she was slightly annoyed by this, Dez kept up her neutral countenance and waited until the woman was finished. Within a few moments, the woman handed Dez the glass before putting the carton back in the fridge.
"Did you need anything else from here?" Ms. Waters asked, standing to the side of the open refrigerator.
Dez pointed to the mixed berry jam, and the woman soon placed it in her hand. Setting both the glass and the jam back onto the island, Dez grabbed the other items that she would need to make toast. In the meantime Ms. Waters poured herself a glass of soda.
After taking a sip of her bubbly beverage, she mentioned, "By the way Dez, I'm very thankful for the information you gave me. It proved useful, and you've surely benefitted a good cause."
"You're welcome," Dez responded in a monotone voice, finishing the last touch on her toast.
Again, this woman thought she could deceive Dez with that smile of hers. Well, it wasn't working. Her statement was vague and hinted at next to nothing. What exactly was this "good cause"? That could mean almost anything. Besides, her "good cause" might mean a terrible consequence for Dez. Biting into her piece of sweetened bread, she waited to see if Ms. Waters had anything more to say.
"Hmm, well, I really do hope you understand the importance of those questions, Dez. Trust me; they'll help quite a few people."
With that, she drank the rest of her soda and placed the empty glass in the sink. She gave another one of her fake cheery smiles to Dez before leaving the kitchen. Honestly, how could those questions help people? Of course, it would help Ms. Waters's research, but until Dez discovered more about her home, she couldn't see how it could aid anyone besides that woman and her mother. Well, for now, she was just glad to have retrieved the screwdriver for her exploration tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chance arrived at Dez's room around ten thirty the next night. He wore his usual attire of a white button-up and black pants. As for Dez, she had on her black jacket from the other night with the screwdriver in it. Complimenting that article of clothing was a light blue v-neck along with black shorts. Moreover, she had her black sneakers on as well. She pulled out the screwdriver from her pocket, confirming to Chance that she had attained it. As for him, he reported that he hadn't learned anything new about Keri Waters. Likewise, during the exam it was just another worker asking him the questions. Dez was relieved to hear that he also answered their questions untruthfully. With that information learned, Chance carefully opened her room door. Thankfully, the camera that was viewing her room was just beginning to turn the other way.
Intertwining his left fingers with her right ones, he swiftly closed the door behind them and began guiding her down the hall. She couldn't believe that this was happening. How had she managed to be so content with her lifestyle of restraints? Granted, it was the only thing she knew back then. No doors had been opened for her; she hadn't been able to see what was hiding in her own home. Things were different now, and she wouldn't stop searching for an answer. This course of action may be her ruin, but never had she felt so many emotions running through her: fear, excitement, nervousness and oh, so many more.
Thus, as they went down the hall, they stayed in the few shadows that were cast about the hall, wanting to make sure that their own shadows didn't betray them. Their feet seemed to pound against the beige tile, which was quite the contradiction to how Dez was traveling this hall last night. White doors zoomed by, each holding their own secret, but those could be discovered later. Right now, the sublevel was the gem that Dez sought.
Moreover, she would get to see Chance's room. At least that was the plan. They would enter the ventilation system through the air vent in his room. That way they wouldn't have to deal with a guard sneaking up on them, while they were unscrewing an air vent. Honestly, she was quite pleased by this. She had never seen her friend's room before, and it would be another mystery solved this evening.
Reaching the dining hall, Chance opened one of the doors just enough so that he could see into the area while not being noticed by the camera. Since he waited a few seconds before entering, Dez could only assume that the camera was originally pointing at the doors. He tugged on her hand, indicating that they could go, and she followed immediately.
Passing the sea of metal tables, Dez's grey eyes were met by the other set of double doors in the dining hall. Now, she was beginning her trip into the unknown. She had never been past those doors, and for some reason she halted her movement. Chance glanced back at her with a worried expression. The camera would be turning back on them soon, and they needed to get going. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, she indicated for him to keep going. With that they opened the doors and proceeded onwards.
In the back of her mind, she was imagining the hall to be different from the one she was used to. Maybe for the tile or lights to change, but they were all the same. It was identical to the hall where her room was. Frankly, it felt like she had looped back to her previous location. Of course this wasn't the case, but it still felt weird. She wondered if this building ever had a less uniform look to it, a look that made every part of the house unique and inviting. Right now, this place was far from it.
Several minutes passed before Chance stopped in front of one of the white doors. Surprisingly, this door didn't have a lock but was simply a swinging door. Next to the door was a white sign with the silhouette of a man on it. Dez figured that having a lock on the bathroom would be both inconvenient and unnecessary for the workers. Besides, no one expected her to go past the second doors in the dining area. Chance hurriedly ushered Dez into the bathroom and held onto the door, letting it close gently behind them. Glancing around at the room, she was quite happy to have her own bathroom. She couldn't imagine having to a share a restroom with other individuals.
Going across the white tiled floors, they passed the urinals and a few stalls before they reached the sinks. Up above the white sinks was an air vent surrounded by the white tiling on the walls. Right above the sinks were the mirrors, which equated to being thin glass rectangles. Illuminating the room was a single old fashioned factory pendant light, which was identical to the lights out in the hallway.
Not a moment later, Chance climbed up onto the sinks, reaching his arms up to the air vent. He took the metal object off the wall and handed it down to Dez. Hoisting himself up, he climbed through the space before he held out his hands. Assuming he wanted the metal rectangle back, she placed it in his hands, and he disappeared into the wall once more.
Climbing up onto the sinks herself, Dez managed to pull herself up into the space in the wall. Crawling through the hole, she saw Chance waiting on the floor by the stack of boxes. Before she began her descent, she took the air vent back from him and put it in its original place. With that settled, she went down the boxes until her feet touched the ground as well. Thus, with both of them by the stairs, they started to go down towards the sublevel.
Like Chance had mentioned previously, the stairs were broken in some parts. Some small pieces even broke off, as the two of them descended the steps. Those pieces hit the floor below them, adding a light echo to the stairwell, but it thankfully wasn't too loud. Thus, those beyond the wall would not be able to hear the subtle noise. At one point, though, Dez had trouble proceeding due to the gap in the stairs. If she fell, she wouldn't die, but it still wouldn't be a pleasant fall. After some encouragement from Chance, she nodded and made a running jump. To her relief, she landed safely on the other side. Encountering no more large gaps, they traveled the rest of the way quite smoothly. Once at the bottom, though, Dez wasn't met by any hole in the wall. Instead, she saw another stack of boxes. Giving her friend a worried glance, he merely shot her a smile before pushing some of the boxes aside. Soon enough, the hole became visible.
"I can't have others, besides us, using this passage. The boxes make it look like there is just paneling behind the wall, so it helps keep attention away from this place."
"Why hasn't anyone fixed the hole?"
"Well, if anyone has noticed it, which probably someone has, they most likely thought it insignificant. A hole in the wall, which looks only to have paneling behind it, probably isn't the biggest concern of your mother's."
His explanation making sense, she nodded and followed him through the hole. As she stood, watching the hall and standing out of view of the security cameras, Chance rearranged the boxes back into place. Granted, it wasn't as easy as moving them on the other side, but he still managed. While he carried on with that task, Dez examined the hallway. It was much different from the one above but not in that unique way, which Dez had hoped for. Rather, it looked like something out of a nightmare. How could Chance ever stand to live in a room in this location?
Faded grey paint was peeling off the walls, while the white tiles were caked with dirt. Dez wasn't even sure one could scrub the dirt from the tiles. White doors did indeed line the hall, which split into multiple directions. Some of these doors, however, were decorated with scratch marks. Frankly, she didn't want to know why there were such marks on the doors. Simple grey wall lamps gave some light to the halls, but the shades' color was faded, while pieces of the fabric had small holes in them. Overall, the sublevel gave off an ominous vibe, and she just desired to get to Chance's room sooner than later.
"You ready to go?" Chance questioned, now standing next to her.
"Yes," Dez answered a little too quickly.
Scanning over her face, Chance saw her usual countenance, but he could see the slight fear in her eyes. Then again, this was her first time seeing the sublevel, and it wasn't the most inviting of places. He had grown numb to its chilling effect. In fact, that was probably the reason he was able to remain content with his situation. Moreover, his trips to Dez's room kept his sanity intact and made his stay down here more bearable.
Ruffling her hair a bit, he grinned down at her and spoke softly, "We'll get answers, Dez. Afterwards, we'll get out of here."
"Yeah," Dez responded, fixing her hair in the process.
Gripping her left hand with his right, he took her down the halls and guided her to his room. Dez refused to stare too long at the scratch marks on the doors. Some doors didn't have them, but a majority did. Maybe they were there before her mother bought this house. At least that's what Dez hoped for; she didn't want to think of the alternatives. With every step further into the sublevel, though, her questioning of the purpose of the exam was intensifying. She was having trouble believing that the tests were in her best interest.
Just as she was about to make a turn, Chance abruptly halted his movement and turned quickly back towards her. She nearly crashed into him, but soon found herself pressed up against the wall. Chance had his left hand against her right shoulder, while his right index finger indicated for her not to make a sound. She nodded, and he soon stood next to her on the wall. Maintaining an even breath, she listened closely to her surroundings, wondering why they had stopped. Soon, she picked up the sound of footsteps, and they were coming towards them. With this knowledge she found it quite hard to breathe normally, as she tried to calm down her racing heart. Her eyes darted around the area, looking for some hiding place, but there was none. It was just the halls filled with locked doors.
Desiring to shrink back into the wall, Dez listened to the footsteps closing in. She bit the inside of her left cheek, as a way to relax her nerves somewhat; it wasn't working. Part of her just wanted to dart across the hallway and make a run for it. This was completely different from the security cameras. Luckily, the one watching their section was still turned the other way, however, it wouldn't remain that way for long. Her eyes began to just stare at the device attached to the wall. It was slowly beginning to change its position. They, maybe, had thirty seconds before it caught them on camera.
Peering over at her friend, she saw him staring at the camera as well. His fingers were pressed up against the wall, seeming to want to dig into the surface. Their attention, though, soon was directed at the foot that became visible. The white combat boot gave away who the individual was; it was one of the guards. Shockingly, the rest of the person didn't make themselves evident. Instead, the foot disappeared, and a door nearby them opened. With the sound of a door then closing, Chance hesitantly peeked around the corner of the wall.
From her position Dez couldn't see if the individual was truly gone. It was clear that they were, though, when Chance swiftly rounded the corner with her. They nearly ran down the tiled floor, both wishing to be rid of the hall, so that they could reduce their chances of being caught. With her breathing becoming ragged, though, she didn't know how much longer she could keep up this pace. She had never run like this in her life, and her exhaustion was presenting itself clearly. Finally, they ceased their running, coming to a stop in front of one of the white doors. This one had no scratch marks.
Removing a key from his pocket, Chance quickly inserted it into the lock and turned it. A clicking sound hit her ears, and Chance wasted no time in opening the door. Both entered immediately, and Chance shut the door and locked it behind them. Catching her breath, Dez rested the palms of her hands on her knees. She felt soothing circles being rubbed into her back, and she quietly muttered her thanks to Chance.
"Are you going to be okay, Dez?"
"Yes, I'm...just...tired from...running," she breathed out, feeling some energy return to her.
"That's understandable. We can take a quick break before we enter the ventilation system. I'm sorry my room isn't as welcoming as yours, though."
Managing to stand up to her full height, she looked around the room. It certainly fit the theme of the sublevel. Faded grey paint decorated the walls and peeled in certain places. A metal bed frame had a worn out mattress on it, but the grey sheets appeared decent enough. Moreover, the white pillow seemed to be quite new and appeared fluffed up. As for the rest of the room, grey carpet covered the floor, and the ceiling was painted in the same grey hue as the walls. Next to the bed was a wooden dresser, which followed the pattern of peeling grey paint. Across from the bed was a metal desk and chair. There was a grey cushion on the chair to provide some comfort, while a simple white lamp sat atop the desk.
Finding herself walking towards his desk, she reached it and ran her fingers over the surface. It felt so cold and lifeless, but the whole room had that vibe to it. Her grey eyes scanned over the desk to see that it only had one drawer. She didn't ask for permission, but it was too late to do so anyway. Already, her fingers were grasping the drawer handle and pulling the singular drawer open. To her surprise no writing utensils were present. Then again, Chance had mentioned that he had little access to the things that she possessed. The only thing in the drawer was a couple of books. Both were old children's books filled with nursery rhymes. Now close to her, Chance picked one of them up and flipped through the pages.
"Do you recall the time when I couldn't even read one of these?"
Peering up at the male, she nodded and stood next to him. Pushing herself up on her tippy-toes, she watched the scenes go by, as he turned the pages. Noticing her position, Chance lowered the book, so she wouldn't have to stand in such a way. Thanking him, she looked at the pages once more. She remembered the time spent during their first year of meeting. Chance could only read a few words, and even those weren't perfect. He would always mess up one of the sounds, making the word sound funny. It was fun teaching him, though. Back then, those lessons made her smile on the inside. In fact they still did cause her to smile inwardly. Each lesson allowed her to talk to someone, since she couldn't really talk to any of the flies. They held their current gazes back then as well.
"I'm presuming you don't read these all day."
"No, I rarely look at them. I find that I don't need to learn anymore lessons. We have enough rules placed on our heads already."
That was entirely true. There were so many restrictions on the two of them. Granted, they had probably just broken most of them by coming down here and by Chance visiting her in her room. Reading a text that added to the rules, which they needed to remember, was taxing. If they were to leave the confinements of this house, they would find it easier to glance through the rhymes again. On that note, though, she was able to recall the basic messages in each story. They weren't difficult to figure out, and they were easy to memorize. Chance probably recollected them and thus found no reason to look over them again.
"Then what do you do in here?" Dez asked, peering around the simple room.
"I guess I just lay in bed thinking. Sometimes, I exercise a little, but I mostly just organize my thoughts. Moreover, I count the minutes until the workers leave. Of course, there is the occasional conversation I overhear between the workers. Most of their discussions center on useless gossip."
"What about their other conversations?" Dez inquired, as Chance placed the book back in the drawer before closing the metal box.
"Occasionally, I learn some new facts about the world outside of this building. From what I heard, there's a store nearby, or a café as they called it, which sells delicious coffee and pastries. It's not that helpful, but I thought we might check it out when we leave this place."
"That would be nice, but we'll need money, won't we?"
"I suppose you're right, but we'll figure something out. We've gotten this far, haven't we?"
"Yes, that is true."
"Well, do you need some more time to rest?"
Scanning over the room one more time, some part of her just wanted to stay in here a bit longer. Maybe it was because she thought how dead the room appeared. Perhaps, she felt bad about allowing her friend stay in such a place for the entire day and part of the night. How could he tolerate living in this space? As she thought over such things, her feet moved her over to the other door in the room. Chance made no motion to stop her, so she rested her hand on the knob and opened it. Behind the door, as she suspected, was a bathroom. It was clean but needed some repairs.
White tiles coated the walls, but cracks in the individual pieces displayed the cement wall behind. In some places whole tiles were missing. As for the shower, there was just the shower head attached to the tile while a small square section of cement covered the ground beneath the shower head. A circular drain lay in the middle of the cement. Regarding the rest of the bathroom, the sink was a metal basin and stood on a metal pole, which no doubt had the piping on the inside. Above it was a sheet of glass, which had small cracks here and there. Next to the sink was a white toilet. Illuminating the entirety of the bathroom was a wind-up lantern. The light inside of it was dim, indicating that it needed to be wound up soon.
"Chance, I want to get you out of here," Dez uttered, her grey eyes displaying a hint of terror.
Her horror wasn't really directed at the bathroom but the whole room and the sublevel. Just the atmosphere of the place reeked of some ill intent. She didn't know what, but she didn't desire for Chance to experience it. The air seemed to constrict around her, sucking her into a vortex that she wouldn't be able to escape from. Adding Ms. Waters's cheery false smile to the mix didn't help, but only intensified the dread, which was manifesting in her gut. This place just didn't feel right.