Dark Room 3: Little Fifteen


She couldn’t get away. She could only form a frail world for herself. It was a simple room with bare walls, and a rough blanket on the floor. There was a door – and at the bottom, a darkly-lit pulsing glow warned her not to open it again.

She tried again to leave – to the park, to her old room at Daddy’s house, ANYWHERE. Somewhere the other couldn’t get to her. But the walls remained, solid and unyielding. There was no day, no night, no time, no moment – nothing but her room and the door.

Her leg muscles flexed for a second – once again, she thought briefly of opening that door. But she closed her eyes and couldn’t help but see what lay beyond.

A river of blood, burning bright and hot – amidst a shouting void.

She knew something of her daddy’s work. She knew her mind made that river. But try as she might, she didn’t know why. Was it as the other one told her? Did she want to be here?

She cried out. “DADDY!” It rang within her walls.

But in the darkened lab, all was still and silent.

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