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INSIDE-OUTED
You're in a dark place, only lit by dingy, flickering fluorescent lights.
Looking around, you can make out cabinets, tables, a few metal chairs stacked up against the walls. A small green neon sign shows the way to the exit. It seems like this is some kind of storage room for a restaurant, perhaps.
But you aren't alone. Your voice, deep, slightly tinged with annoyance, rings out, turning to the only other person in the room:
A young lady laying on a metal table, her wrists bound to it with plastic ties.
"Hey, what is this device?"
The device in question is something strange. Like a handheld GPS on a stick, or something. You don't focus on that. You focus on the girl in front of you, instead, waiting for an reply.
She looks at you. There's disdain in her expression, and she bites her lip. Ah, she doesn't want to answer. There's something else in your other hand, heavy in its heft, and walking up, you slam it right next to her face on the table, startling her.
It's a handheld drill.
Your voice is level as you continue to talk.
"Listen, I'm about to drill a hole in your head like mine."
Her eyebrows furrow. You disregard it, continuing.
"But few have been able to answer my questions after that...So I'd like you to answer me now."
"Few?" She suddenly speaks, her voice wavering. "Don't they all die immediately?"
You let out a low, amused chuckle.
"No one dies immediately. They linger for a while. The guy I left in my house is fine for now, too...unless he's been shot in my place, that is."
She gasps. The movement shifts some of her hair aside, revealing a small red "X" on her forehead. She gathers her courage again, her tone almost incredulous.
"You drilled a hole in your head yourself? Then you did it to others?" She scoffs. "What, are you making a club?"
A club, huh? You lean over her. Wait, that reflection in the metal...who is that? Who is that man? Why, that's you, of course. Half of your face is scarred, your blue hair combed over on the other side, and you raise a hand, pointing at - yes, that's a hole.
That's a hole right through your head.
You smile as you speak, with words that feel like you've told yourself multiple times before.
Looking around, you can make out cabinets, tables, a few metal chairs stacked up against the walls. A small green neon sign shows the way to the exit. It seems like this is some kind of storage room for a restaurant, perhaps.
But you aren't alone. Your voice, deep, slightly tinged with annoyance, rings out, turning to the only other person in the room:
A young lady laying on a metal table, her wrists bound to it with plastic ties.
"Hey, what is this device?"
The device in question is something strange. Like a handheld GPS on a stick, or something. You don't focus on that. You focus on the girl in front of you, instead, waiting for an reply.
She looks at you. There's disdain in her expression, and she bites her lip. Ah, she doesn't want to answer. There's something else in your other hand, heavy in its heft, and walking up, you slam it right next to her face on the table, startling her.
It's a handheld drill.
Your voice is level as you continue to talk.
"Listen, I'm about to drill a hole in your head like mine."
Her eyebrows furrow. You disregard it, continuing.
"But few have been able to answer my questions after that...So I'd like you to answer me now."
"Few?" She suddenly speaks, her voice wavering. "Don't they all die immediately?"
You let out a low, amused chuckle.
"No one dies immediately. They linger for a while. The guy I left in my house is fine for now, too...unless he's been shot in my place, that is."
She gasps. The movement shifts some of her hair aside, revealing a small red "X" on her forehead. She gathers her courage again, her tone almost incredulous.
"You drilled a hole in your head yourself? Then you did it to others?" She scoffs. "What, are you making a club?"
A club, huh? You lean over her. Wait, that reflection in the metal...who is that? Who is that man? Why, that's you, of course. Half of your face is scarred, your blue hair combed over on the other side, and you raise a hand, pointing at - yes, that's a hole.
That's a hole right through your head.
You smile as you speak, with words that feel like you've told yourself multiple times before.
"Wind comes into this hole, then it goes out the other, and it makes the world a little bit clearer."