THE COLOR PURPLE

At first, your mind is blank. You don’t remember anything about your past but you know that you don’t know about your past. It is as if you are aware of something you cannot comprehend. It feels like you are being reborn from the womb of some alien mother. You know nothing of this new world save a vague feeling of familiarity. Everything has a surreal quality to it now as your eyes begin to function.

It is as if you were the chrysalis and now you cannot remember ever being the catapiller. You feel rather like something forged from previous material. Yet in all this you feel brand new. There is nothing beyond your base material assigning you as who you are other than the ever elusive situations of here and now. Both of these you are certain are happening for the first time and thus through some intuitive thinking you conclude, that you must be conscious for the first time. Like aroused from some fictitious dream, the sleeper awakens.

From a milky white wet-eyed blur you begin to pull your visual surroundings into focus. You can hear hissing all around you and you know that you are enclosed in cold metal. You can only tilt your head a few degrees in each direction and your arms and legs are strapped into place as if you were standing up straight. You feel as though you are vertical but that you had been horizontal for a long duration previous.

A small television screen sits uncomfortably close to your face. It is about half-a-foot squared with rounded edges and it is jammed up so close to your face it takes up nearly all of your immediate view. It has the intrusive quality of an aggravating conversationalist yet displays the simple phrase: “Please Stand By …”

A light static of elevator music is barely audible from its single speaker. You practically have to hold your breath to hear it. The melody is strangely recognizable and almost primordial as if it were the tune your mother would hum when you were a child. You know you were a child, but again as you try and recall your childhood, you draw a blank. There were words to this song, you remember that much. The part coming up, this is the part that you remember. The words come hauntingly each one the harbinger of the next.

“Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
'Relax,' said the night man,
'We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave!”

The speaker is playing musack of The Eagles song Hotel California. How odd, you think but the truth is you really have no idea why.

"LET THERE BE NO LIGHT!!!"

... AND WITH THAT THE LIGHTS FROM THE DIODES ON THE PNEUMATIC TUBES ALL AROUND YOU SHUT-OFF. THERE IS A LOUD ECHOING CLICK WHEN THIS HAPPENS. ALL OF YOUR EYES TAKE A MOMENT TO ADJUST IN THE INTERRUPTING SILENCE.

Beginning to Crawl

As I soak in my surroundings, I pay close attention to the tube behind me. The last words of that deranged clown have made me understandably nervous.

Once finished with the tube, I search the pockets of my coveralls, discovering the scavenger list. An odd assortment of things to look for; I search my mind for any clue as to what use these things would be together. A thought that Strange Tales No. 5 is probably going to be interesting to read crosses my mind briefly, before I remember where I am, and who is sending me after these things.

Satisfied with the list, I put it back in my pocket and begin to cautiously move down the hallway, moving slowly and as quietly as I can. I want to hear whatever I might encounter before it hears me.

This is going to be interesting.

Darkness falls...

Finally managed to smash my way out of that tube.
Door stuck while opening.
Limited oxygen exposure.
Need time to catch my breath.

Old Danish Focus technique.
Niflheim crushes Muspellheim.

I regain my head, and SEARCH straight ahead.
Short narrow hall that turns left.
I WALK down the dark path using my hands as a guide FEELING the dark dirty walls for any clues as to my whereabouts. I notice a mirror hanging slanted on the wall in front of me.
Glancing at myself in those green coveralls the name "Luigi" comes to mind and I chuckle a bit to myself.

I come to the end of the hall and stare into a large dark room...