Room 9 by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 15

The group's excitement subsided quickly as Doctor Stewart led them down the corridor. Once again, they found themselves in the elevator and moving up two floors entered another sterile-looking corridor. Leading the group, the doctor stopped at a door that seemed different from the rest, bearing the number 9 fixed to its center. Everyone was curious about what might be behind the door, but it was Ethan who asked first. “What’s this room for? Another lab?” All eyes turned to Doctor Stewart for an answer.

“This room isn’t really a lab,” he answered. “But we do conduct experiments in it.”

He opened the door to a room lined with long triangular structures. This piqued the group's curiosity; all except for John. His background also covered audio engineering, and he was quick to point out that the objects lining both floors, walls and ceiling were baffles, designed to absorb sound. But what he was unable to figure out was what the room was specifically used for. “So, what do you use this room for,” he asked.

Doctor Stewart explained that more sensitive aircraft and satellite parts were tested for vibration using sound waves. A threshold was established for each item being tested. If the vibration of any object registered past this threshold, it would be considered failed and would have to be redesigned. But Ethan had one more question.

“What’s the number nine for?”

The doctor no longer found himself surprised by any of the questions put to him, as he had realized just how intelligent and knowledgeable the teens were.

“The sound level of this room has been measured at minus nine decibels. So we call it ‘room nine’.” Ethan’s knowledge of audio engineering was limited, but continued inquiring about the room's construction.

“I know this is going to sound weird, but has this room ever been used on a person?”

Such experiments were generally classified, but Doctor Stewart kept his response brief.

“We’ve found that exposure to this room can play tricks on a person’s mind. If you’re in there for more than a few minutes, you’ll start hearing your heartbeat and the sound of your blood whooshing past your ears. A little more time and you’ll be able to hear your internal organs moving – especially your intestines. From what I’ve heard, it can be a little creepy.”

Kyle raised a hand, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Yes,” the doctor said. “What would happen if someone stayed in there for, let’s say, an hour?” Doctor Stewart was quick with an answer but, again, kept it brief. “From the studies we’ve done, we found that a prolonged time in this room can result in hallucinations, panic and aggressive behavior. Essentially, a reactive psychosis. It’s both interesting to see what this level of sensory deprivation can do to the mind, but it can be dangerous to keep someone in there for too long.” Just before the group moved on, John asked if he could go into the room – just for a few moments. “I understand the risk,” he said. “But a few moments would be okay, right?”

Doctor Stewart agreed. After all, what harm could it do and as intelligent as the teens were he fully expected that one of them would want to go in. Opening the door, John stepped into the room and was struck by the symmetry of its construction. The baffles were made from acoustic tile and shaped into long, narrow pyramids. Even the backside of the door was covered with baffles, leaving no escape for any degree of sound. The room was fairly small and as John stood in the middle of it he began speaking.

“Hello.”

He expected a small echo, but there was nothing, only the odd sound of his muffled voice. He wondered if the strange absence of an auditory response was real, or if it was a trick played on his mind by deprivation caused by the baffled walls. John quickly came to the conclusion, should he stay any longer, this sensation might take a more harmful turn and the idea of hallucinating made the experience even more uncomfortable.

“Well,” he said. “That’s enough of that.”

Doctor Stewart continued holding the door open as John left the room. Physically trembling, he requested a glass of water and a quiet to sit, the sensory deprivation of room 9 had already taken something of a toll on his nerves.

The rest of the group looked at him with obvious concern. Elaine was especially worried as she was the person chosen to be in charge of the teens as well as their safety. “Holy shit,” John said. “That was weird.”

Doctor Stewart turned to him with a slight grin.

“No,” he began. “I don't think you would.”

Pausing in the corridor, John asked the doctor a curious question. “As a matter of fact, I have.” he answered.

“So, what happened?” John asked. The doctor was quick with an answer, as the experience had made a significant impact on his. “I lasted about three minutes. I decided it was over when I started hearing my mother's voice, and she's been dead for years.” The idea of a deceased relative speaking to someone while being locked in what is essentially a sensory deprivation room led John to feel both a noticeable degree of fear and anxiety.

Doctor Stewart studied his expression for a moment and seeing the tension on his face asked if he was alright. “Yeah,” John replied. “Just give me a few minutes.”

The doctor, continuing his concern, motioned him to the wall and retrieving a chair from a nearby office asked John to sit.

“You take as much time as you need,” he said.

Having drunk a second cup of water, John felt his nerves ease as he sat back in the chair, breathing deeply. “Okay,” he said. “I think I'm ready to go.”

Standing up, he joined the rest of the group while the doctor led them down to the elevator.

Waiting for the doors to open, Doctor Stewart received a message on his pager, prompting him to walk to the nearest office to make what seemed to be an urgent call. Upon returning, he told the teens that there would be a delay in their tour but not wanting to abandon them, he decided to take them to someplace closer. This time, the group would go to an early lunch, then on to two more labs before calling it a day. Visiting this next lab would be brief, allowing the doctor time to attend whatever situation he was notified of.

“Okay,” he began. “This next project is called the 'Lunar Flashlight'.” No one in the group had ever heard of such a device, and the doctor saw a lost, but curios look on the teen’s faces as one of them asked the obvious question.

“What does it do?”

The doctor's explanation was brief. However, driven by curiosity, John slipped away and quietly walked back to Room nine. Opening the door, he slipped in. As an engineering student, he was fascinated with its construction and again called out toward the walls, hearing nothing but the roar of silence. Studying its interior, he noticed a video camera placed high in a corner and assumed that whatever experiments were done had to be closely monitored. Naturally, there were no windows. He studied the details of the baffle's construction when he heard the door slam shut behind him, and as John walked over to it, he heard the sound of the lock bolting shut. He tried to avoid panicking, knowing that there was also a lock on the inside. Turning the lock, he found that it refused to budge. He thought the lock could be jammed or there was something blocking the door. Either way, John was trapped and if he wasn't able to get out, it wouldn't be long until he would begin to feel his faculties break down as he fell into an unrecoverable psychosis.

There was no point in trying to figure out how he had shut into what was, essentially, a sensory deprivation chamber. The important thing was that John dedicate as much energy as possible to getting out. Sitting on the floor, John tried to quiet his mind so as to be able to think clearly. But the time for mental clarity was running out, and he began to experience some of the things Doctor Stewart had mentioned. As he sat in the middle of the room, he began to hear the blood rushing past his ears. Soon after, he hears his intestinal tract groaning as it moved its contents along its predetermined path. Then, the trembling started, followed by the anxious shaking of his limbs – fear was setting in, and with that, panic. He was cognizant enough to realize that there were no options and until someone was able to open the door, John's sanity would continue to dwindle, leaving him in a state he could not begin to imagine.