Room 9 by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 17

While the rest of the group stood around a large quantum computer, John sat in the middle of the floor in room 9. It had been half an hour, and he had become nearly catatonic as his psyche began to disintegrate. But the worse was well on its way and promised to do far more damage than simply turning John into a statue. As he sat motionless, he could feel the heaviness of the surrounding silence. Soon, this would be replaced by a cacophony of voices screaming in his mind. Some he recognized – his mother and father. Others he believed to be the voice of God, telling him that he would soon die and cursing him for living a failed life. All reason had left John's otherwise brilliant mind as he was being reduced to a less than intelligent psychotic mute. But something inside him refused to break, and John up from the floor and began screaming while pounding on the baffles. No one would hear a sound.

Another hour had gone by and the inside of room nine was heavily stained with blood. John lay in the middle of the floor – his eyes wide open as saliva slowly ran from his mouth and onto the wood floor. If he were found soon, he might survive – physically. But mentally, his mind had turned to the consistency of mud. His brilliant intellect dissolved away, leaving him as an empty shell, with voices still running unceasingly through what was left of his mind. His sense of logic gone, John was functioning on what remained of his instincts, and as he stumbled to his feet began screaming again. But these were not the screams of someone trying to attract attention to an otherwise desperate circumstance. This was the shrieking of blind hysteria – a last futile attempt to survive. But the sound of terror went unheard and although there was a video camera mounted in the room, there was no one on the other end to rescue him.