What's Going On? (Christopher)

What Christopher first sensed was the feeling of something thin slowly passing over his body, somewhat caressing him through the clothes. In a clumsy reflex he tried to keep the falling covers to himself, but his movement was met with some resistance. In another situation, he would have been too sleepy to care, but this resistance felt weird. Like somebody was holding back the sheets.
This realisation seemed to shake him somehow; at least enough to find real consciousness. He didn’t share his bed with anyone. He hadn’t gone to bed with anyone. Who was in his bed?
Unfortunately, consciousness brought a new problem: his head hurt like hell, as if whoever was in his bed had felt bored during the night and decided to start hitting him with a hammer. He felt almost nauseous, as if he was ready to throw up.
He slowly started opening his eyes, with some apprehension, and was met with an almost unexpected sight: a tall, quite beautiful woman was next to him, sitting on the other side of the bed.

Christopher quickly closed his eyes. Alright buddy, you know this one. You’re just too tired, wait for it to go away. If he breathed in deeply and tried to calm down, surely this image would disappear, he just had to wait, and he would be all alone in his quiet, simple white room.
White room.
Christopher opened his eyes again. The walls were white. His walls were blue.

His movements almost seemed panicked when he frantically sat up in his – no, not his – bed. This wasn’t just an hallucination. He’d never been delusional about the appearance of an entire room before. This place was for real.
His head turned towards the woman. She had kept quiet, but he could see she also seemed quite shaken herself. Apparently, he wasn’t exactly welcome here. He wondered if she was real.

    - I don’t know you. He quietly said.

That might seem like an odd statement to her, but to him, it meant a lot. His vivid hallucinations usually were of people he knew, or deformed versions of people that seemed familiar. But this woman, he couldn’t recognise her at all. Reason why he was starting to think that maybe, she could actually be here for real.

At first he seemed to dismiss her. Like he either didn't care she was there or he was just not fully awake yet. But then his eyes snapped open and he jackknifed up so suddenly that Kida jolted a little, springing back and bringing up her hands to keep him at bay in case he made a lunge at her. Wouldn't be the first time she woke someone with a fight or flight response.

"Easy there," Kida said.

Her tone was soft and gentle as she tried to calm the man down. He had sat up so quickly he startled her. He was probably just as scared as she was. Both in an awful room with strangers. Waking up to realize that what they were used to was no longer there. Not having any control of the situation was enough to leave the woman in a state of pessimism. He was new to her, but that gave no explanation of what happened to her last roommate. Was she next? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath before looking back up at him.


"My name is Kida Nedakh." she explained, "What's your name?"

Names. They had become so important to her now. She had to remember names, particularly after the incident with the girl who was killed. She wanted to remember the names of those who she met, on the off chance that she ever got out of there, but the longer she was here, the more that hope started to vanish.

The woman’s words were met with even more confusion. English? Why wasn’t she using French? While he could talk English properly, seeing her not use the language of the country he was living in worried him, but he tried to remain calm and keep focused on her words. For all he knew she was just not from around here. She definitely looked foreign.
He was almost tempted to move his hand to feel her, just to make sure she was really there. His touch never lied to him, but she seemed so startled by his reaction that he wasn’t sure how well she would take the sudden attention. She was already in a defensive stance, and the best he could do would be to look as inoffensive as possible.

First of all, he tried to regain his composure, sitting up more properly, as one of his legs had been hanging off the bed. He gave up on studying the room for now: the room could not harm him, but there was a stranger next to him.

    - I’m Christopher – he answered, his English almost perfect, with a slight hint of an accent, mix of Norwegian and French – Christopher Bjorgman. Nice to meet you.

Well, he wouldn’t lose anything by being polite, even if he never meant to be there. Right now, he was just hoping they hadn’t hooked up. Not that she wasn't pretty, but he really didn’t have time for surprise I-was-way-too-drunk girlfriends.

    - Excuse me, but, hum… could you tell me where I am? I don’t remember coming here... I think I was supposed to do some groceries, and then…

Groceries. Nani! She had sent him to buy some food! Had he ever gone back home to deliver it? She must be worried sick!
Distracted, his hands started checking up the pockets of his pants and jacket. He was still wearing the same clothes he remembered putting on before going out last night (well, he supposed it was last night), yet, for as long as a searched, he couldn’t find his wallet, keys, or even his cellphone.
Alright Chris, remember your training. He though, almost joking. Maybe this was just a stupid prank. For now, all he could do was using his acting skills to not give this “Kida” an angry look and accuse her of theft right away. Maybe he had just lost it. Maybe she could help.

    - I’m sorry, but I can’t find my cellphone and the rest of my stuff anywhere… do you have any idea where it is?

"Okay," Kida said slowly, "This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but please, bear with me."

She took a deep breath. This sounded crazy, even to her. She only knew what that girl Evelyn told her. That a woman had brought them all here, locked them up and made them play deathly games. It was terrifying. She didn't want to have to be the one to break that to the poor man. He wasn't tainted by the awful things this nightmare had to offer but she was going to be the one to ruin it for him. He had to know if he was going to survive in this place.

"We've been kidnapped," she said. "By a woman. I don't know who she is or what she wants. She probably took your phone."

She felt her shoulders sag when he said his phone was gone. If only they could have called for help. It was probably unlikely to have had a signal even if they did have it, but it would have made her feel better if they did. Just in case, there was that one odd bar of a signal. She was tempted to ask him the date to find out how long she had been there but the fear of the answer kept her back.

At first, Christopher just stood there, listening quietly to her explanations. He didn’t see why it would be so crazy; he had probably gotten drunk somehow, even if he didn’t usually was the one to drink.
Yet, his eyes widened as she kept on talking. Kidnapped? Him? Was she for real? She couldn’t be for real!
He got off the bed without thinking, instinctively trying to get away. He didn’t know what kind of sick game this crazy woman was trying to play with him, but he didn’t like it, not one bit.

    - Kidnapped? What the hell are you talking about? Are you crazy?!

His eyes started looking around the room. He didn’t care if he was making a fool of himself (she’s probably just joking, he thought, don’t freak out like that), he didn’t want to stay with a crazy woman talking about kidnappings. He was feeling way too sick and nauseated to deal with this kind of stuff right now.
He spotted two doors: one of them was slightly opened, and he could see what looked like a bathroom on the other side, so he chose to walk around the bed to get to the other one.
He quickly grabbed the handle, yet, when he tried opening it, it refused to cooperate. He tried a second time with more strength, and a third time, with no results. And a quick analysis of his surroundings seemed to indicate that there were no keys near it.

Defeated, Christopher turned around to face the woman again. If he wanted to get out, he’d probably have to go through her somehow. He just had to try to keep a calm facade and not show her how much this was actually creeping him out.

    - Look, Kida. I don’t know what you want from me, but I have someone waiting for me back home, and she must be really worried right now. So please, let me out, now.

"I can't." she replied, quite wearily.

She wanted to go home too. She missed her father. She missed her traveling. She missed writing. She missed her book signings, her fans, her too pushy agent and just fresh air. She wanted to go back to the way things were before this all happened. That wasn't going to happen though, not until they got at the woman who had them there. If they could just get her alone, get her where they could fight back... But it was so unlikely. She had the power to gas their rooms, drug them and kill them with just as much ease.

"The door is locked. There's a camera watching us. I don't want to be here anymore to than you do," she said. "We're not the only ones either. There was someone here before you and now he's gone."

She probably sounded desperate. She knew her response was probably a little more heated as her frustration grew. Her eyes started to burn with her own anger, warm and watery. She quickly wiped at them, preventing tears. Now was not the time to get emotional even if she did feel like it. She wouldn't cry, not when their captor was watching.

"You want to look for a key, be my guest. I didn't find anything and you won't either."

Frustration also grew in him as he listened to her. Not because she wasn’t letting him go like he had hoped, but because she actually sounded sincere. If it had just been her own crazy doing, he could have convinced her, or maybe forced her, to open the door. But if there really was another person behind all this…

Suddenly, he agitatedly placed his left hand on his mouth, as he felt something move in his throat. His nausea was getting worse, and the stress he was under was not helping. And sadly, even if he knew how to fake it, Chris had never been one to really keep calm under such disturbing circumstances.

    - Excuse me. – he whispered (which, at the moment, seemed like the right thing to say to someone you just accused of kidnapping you when you’re about to possibly puke on their face) before rushing to what had seemed to be a bathroom.

Once he got there, Christopher let himself go. There was no use keeping it in, it would just make him feel worse. As he felt whatever was left of his last meal abandon his body, he couldn’t help but think that this feeling was familiar. It reminded him of how he would sometimes feel, years ago, when he still wasn’t used to his treatment and would sometimes take other pills that didn’t mix well with it. It would usually make him awfully sick, just like now.
When it was over, Christopher got back up, flushed the toilet, and slowly got back on his feet, trying to take it easy, before walking over to the sink to clean his mouth, and put some water in his face. If his analysis was true, somebody had made him take something, possibly why he didn’t remember coming here; something that didn’t go well with his medication.

    - … … Have I been drugged? He asked Kida with some difficulty, once he felt good enough to get back in the main room. His throat was still sore from what he had just been through, and talking hurt him a little.

Kida frowned. Perhaps she had been a little too quick. She tried to reason with herself it was better quick, like pulling off a bandaid, but it apparently made Christopher ill. She got up from the bed, hesitating near the doorway. It wasn't like she could do anything to help him. She scanned the room. To her disgust, the painting had been turned around to face right again - the image of the melted face hanging over the bed. She jumped up and turned it back around. It disturbed her. It would probably bother Christopher too.

He came back moments later, looking a bit paler than he had just before he rushed to the bathroom. She quickly looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for causing his distress. It wasn't entirely her fault but she was the one who had to burst his bubble of blissful ignorance. She got down from the bed and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Probably. She tends to use a gas of some sort." Kida explained. "Is... there something I could do to help you?"

    - Probably not, but thank you. I can’t handle pressure very well when I’m sick… or gassed. He answered, touching his sore throat, while observing the young woman. As a past actor, he was aware of how some good people were at lying, and he knew better than to trust a stranger right away. But in their condition, he couldn’t keep on being wary of her like that. They might stay together for a while, and he didn’t want to make her an enemy. Plus, she seemed friendly enough.

Somehow, throwing up had actually made him feel better, as if some tension was finally out. Now that he was calmer, he decided to look around the room once more, to see if there was anything else. To his surprise, he found a trap door on the ground. He didn’t understand how he could have not seen it before; though he probably was just too agitated.

    - Do you know where this goes? He asked, as he bent over to try and open it. Locked. He tried more forcefully, but the wood was too strong, and it was probably blocked on the other side. There was no use trying to open it.

He sighed. Apparently, this wasn’t going to get better. There was nothing he could do. So might as well focus on his new “roommate”.

    - So… he felt almost uncomfortable. He barely knew her, and now he would have to share a room –a bed– with her. Damn his shyness, but this needed to be asked. For how long have you been in here? And… what has She done to you?

He swallowed, a little afraid of her answer, but whatever would come to him now, he wanted to be prepared for.

Kida nodded slowly. She figured there wasn't much she could do to help him. She bit her lip and avoided looking up at him. It was all she could do to avoid pacing the room like she had the day before. This was doing nothing for her nerves. Someone like Kida had to be able to move about. She couldn't just sit still and do nothing. She had to be active. She had to be productive. Being trapped here was like a slow torture for her, not including the games. At least this roommate talked to her.

"I don't know," she said in regards to the trap door.

She had tried that already. Pulled and tugged until her arms burned. She had thrown things, ruined things, damaged things, only to find they were replaced when she woke. It was frustrating beyond all compare. She didn't even get the joy of seeing the ripped painting in the mornings. It was restored, as usual.

"She's... made us play games," Kida said, "And people have died. The last game I was in, there was a girl locked in a cage and we had to find the key. I don't know if she made it. She gassed us after she got out. Her name was Evelyn."

Christopher frowned at that last statement. He had expected anything, from prostitution (though not likely, since they probably wouldn’t make men and women share rooms without payments) to being used as a drug mule for some big organization, and of course there was the typical ransom possibility. But not… games.
So what, was this madwoman just using them as their puppets, to play with as she wished, and to be thrown out and replaced when she got tired of it? The man shook his head, anguished, fighting the urge to rejoin with his beloved toilets. This was just too much. It couldn’t be.

One word called his attention back. Evelyn. A name he hadn’t heard in years, of a woman that had changed his life for the better. But there were so many Evelyns in the world, what were the odds of this being HIS Evelyn? It could only be a coincidence… couldn’t it?

After all, HE was here. So why not… ?

    - Tell me, this Evelyn… what did she look like? Did she give you her last name? He inquired, wondering. Hoping. It’s just a coincidence Chris, just a coincidence…

"She was this small thing, faint and pale. She had been left outside to the elements before we got to her. I just... I hope that she got inside before we were gassed," Kida explained. "We didn't exactly get time for full introductions. Do you think she's someone you know?"

Kida really hoped not. If they were all here because they happened to know someone, or were all connected somehow, she dare not to think about it. If it was just a matter of knowing the wrong person or being in the wrong place at the wrong time, then they were all fairly unlucky folks. As far as she knew, there were no connections. They were just unlucky.

"I don't know how long I've been here. I can't keep track of days. We sleep, we eat and we sleep some more." she said. "When we aren't doing whatever this woman has planned for us."

That really wasn’t doing much to reassure him. This description was way too vague, it could be anyone… He moved one hand through his blonde hair. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so calm now, as if he had started accepting that freaking out would not help, but the idea that somebody he knew was in here as well… Gosh, what if Nani was trapped too? Or another one of his friends? His sister?
It probably was best not to think about it. But he couldn’t let the subject go.

    - There’s this woman I know, Evelyn Snow… maybe you’ve heard of her, she’s become quite a star nowadays. I had to work with her once, when she was just a starting singer… She’s a rather petite, pale woman with dark hair, really pretty… ?

It felt so weird, talking about her again, after all this time. Even if he owed her a lot, he had never really kept in touch, never knowing what to tell her. How to thank her. She probably didn’t even remember him, anyway, so what was the point really? He never really dared.
He had kept listening to her, though. She wasn’t exactly her kind of music, but she had a beautiful voice. And she had a rather soothing effect on him…

    - It was probably not her, anyway… - he swiftly pursued, unsure of who he was trying to convince, Kida or himself - I mean, she’s way too famous. Who would kidnap someone that could bring so much attention just to play some games?

He was a retired artist after all, a nobody. Kida probably was in the same situation, right?

    - We should probably try keeping track of the days… maybe we can make marks on the wall or something? – Christopher was terrible with dates, but if he could just remember… - I think yesterday was the 5th of June, so if I’ve only been sleeping for a night, today would be the 6th. We should start counting from here.