(TTW Room 5) Talk to Me

A few days had passed already, and still his roommate seemed unfazed, lying lifelessly on the king-size bed that took most of the room’s space. Anxious, Christopher kept checking his pulse: the man was alive, just not well. And he probably wouldn’t get better, since Christoper hadn’t figured out a way to wake him up or feed him. If this kept going, he didn’t know if he would make it.
Yet, Christopher wasn’t surprised. He himself was starting to grow sicker. The lack of medication was starting to leave its mark: every night, before going to sleep, he would have to pinch himself to be able to ignore the images and sounds floating around him. Not yet faces, but definitely voices that sounded familiar. He was actually shocked to see it wasn’t worse yet. He’d definitely been days already.

Christopher suddenly jerked up from the sofa he’d been lying on, trying to occupy himself with his thoughts (there’s just so much fun you can have with tarot cards without even being able to understand them). Maybe he’d been too quick to rejoice. A voice was calling from behind the wall.
It was still early in the afternoon (he’d recently received his lunch), and he felt rested enough. Not in the conditions to suddenly get that kind of sensory stimulation out of nothing. Maybe he was finally losing it.
The voice, unsurprisingly, was familiar. He didn’t take long to even put a name on it, since it sounded surprisingly clear: Kida Nedakh, his past roommate. This realisation made him frown: sure, this could just be another hallucination, but… in his first room, he’d talked with a man through his bathroom wall, and it’d seemed quite real… could it be?

The man sat up, tilting his head to lean his left ear against the wall, hesitant to call out, knowing more than well that responding to hallucinations was the best way to get lost in them. But there was still a remote chance that the woman was really on the other side, and the loneliness would soon drive him insane, left alone with his “imagination”. He desperately needed somebody to talk with.


    - … Kida? Is that you? – he asked, his voice raw with apprehension, hoping with all his heart that this wasn’t just a dream. That he wasn’t alone.

Kida sat up almost immediately when she heard someone's voice. Not only that, but it was someone she knew, that poor man from her last room - Christopher. He had been kind, understandably upset and a little distant the last she saw him, but at that point, Kida would take to talking to anyone. The relief that spread through her nearly brought tears to her eyes. She turned around, placing a hand on the wall. Just hearing a familiar voice at this point took such a weight off her shoulders. She wasn't alone. She wasn't dead.

"Yes. Yes, it's me," she said, the relief bleeding through her voice, absolutely unrestrained, "Christopher, thank goodness you're okay!"

She put her forehead against the wall. She was silent after that, trying to will away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. It wasn't like anyone would see her if she did cry at this point, aside from their captor - the mysterious woman. She just did not want to give that woman the satisfaction of seeing her break like that. Kida was a proud woman and letting their captor see they got to her was an absolute no-go in her book.

This probably meant that Christopher hadn't been forced to play a game yet. Kida had only played two. Or rather she had played two games too many. This whole situation was insane. With nothing to do aside from sit there and play these horrendous games when they cropped up, it was only a matter of time before someone went off the deep end.

Christopher was slightly taken aback by the outburst of emotion that answered his call. While he and Kida had gotten along well, they hadn’t been incredibly close; he could only imagine how desperate she must be to react this way to some human interaction.
Mostly because he was starting to feel the same way. Even if this might as well just be a trick of his mind, the clear sound of the woman’s voice, the possibility that she could be there, that he had someone to talk to… after days of loneliness, slowly approaching a further point of sickness, he couldn’t help but feel emotional. Relieved even, to know that the first person he had interacted with down here, the one that had taken the time to explain him the harsh truth of this hellhole, was still alive and fine. Maybe he could keep hope.

He smiled hesitantly as he sat more comfortably, now completely leaning his head against the wall, ready to ask and answer away. Even if he knew she couldn’t see him, unconsciously, the idea of her seeing him warming up still made him slightly uneasy.

    - How are you? How have you been all this time? Have you been in another game? – those “activities” were still in his mind, menacing to take him any day without him being able to prevent or predict it; but most importantly, he was worried that her overwhelmed attitude might not be just because of him, but because she had been through hell lately and was starting to lose it. He didn’t want that to happen. She’d been the first to support him, what was he to do if she was to fall now?

"I'm okay," she told him. "I haven't been in any games. Things here are just... My roommate hasn't woken up yet."

She was afraid for her new roommate. She spared the bed a glance, where the man lay, breathing shallowly, as still as death itself before quickly looking away. She was scared that he wouldn't wake up. Worst of all, she was scared she was already sharing a room with a corpse if he didn't wake up. Hence one of the reasons she took to nesting in the pillows against the wall. She didn't want to share a bed with a body. This might as well as been it's own torturous game of it's own.

She took a deep breath, trying to rid herself of her nerves. It was nice to finally talk to someone again. All she had were the meals and pacing to keep herself occupied. There were no books, no paper, nothing to write with, nothing to do, aside from pace the room, sleep, eat when food was there and shower. Granted the room was in better condition than her last room, but that didn't account for much.

"What about you? Have you been in any games?" she asked. "How are you holding up?"

    – Not so far, thankfully. I’m happy to hear your voice, though – he admitted, before whispering – Really feels nice finally talking to somebody…

He had breathed a sigh of relief when she mentioned not having been in any games. He didn’t want her to be involved in one as much as he didn’t want it for himself.
Even if, maybe, having others do it would ensure he didn’t have to. Apparently, not everybody joined in the games at the same time.
The man shook his head, his latest thought scaring him a little. He shouldn’t think like that. This wasn’t a contest. They were all in this together. He would wait until his first game arrived, and see for himself. He didn’t have another option.

    – That’s weird, my roommate hasn’t woken up yet either… He’s alive, he’s just been sleeping for days… – he didn’t really try to hide the hint of worry in his voice. He didn’t know the man, but he didn’t want to wake up one morning sharing his room with a corpse. That would definitely terrify him.

He wondered if maybe his roommate would wake up in the middle of the night, when he was sleeping. That was extremely creepy, but he would prefer that over letting him die of hunger. Though, if he ate anything during that time, Christopher had never noticed it.

    – Do you think that could be a game itself? Maybe it’s like that in every room… – he gave a look at the wall on the opposite side – I didn’t try to see if I had other neighbours yet, but it could be.

He’d carefully avoided continuing the subject of his well-being. He hadn’t told her about his health problems, and knew worrying her now wouldn’t bring either of them any good. She probably had enough to care of with herself.