By Practicerestraint
Number 502 headed towards the open wall of his cell and out into the corridor.
“Stay where you are, 502. You’ll regret leaving your cell unescorted.”
He whipped around to see who spoke, but there was no one. As the voice continued, however, he saw the speakers built into the ceiling. He also noticed the cameras in each corner of the room, attached to the ceiling.
“Open the top drawer and put on the items inside. Then read the documents on the desk. Your orientation will begin in about an hour.”
Number 502 debated for a moment, and then turned to the set of drawers along the wall. Stark naked in a strange building, he doubted that he would make much progress in terms of escape. Disobedience didn’t seem like a good idea either, although he hadn’t opened the drawer or read the documents yet . . . .
The instructions was clear.
In the darkness, anxious breathing echoes in the small space. There is certainly a person in his space, helpless. The echo of breathing is broken with the sound of steel sliding on the edge of more metal as a solid, shiny sword slowly enters this container. At first, it proceeds slowly, then settles into place with a strong shove that makes this captive person sigh with relief that they have not been impaled by this sharp weapon. A muffled crowd sound is heard inside the container as the sword sets.