yessleep

Page 1

I awoke in this blinding abyss, my mind shrouded in fog.

‘Where am I? How did I get here?’

The empty white room offered no answers.

‘Natalie, Darling?’

I found myself naked and vulnerable in this sterile tomb as fragmented memories of my past actions flooded my thoughts. The worn-down brown pencil I clutched in my hand felt like a mockery. Why it felt so, I can’t say. Am I my own captive? Am I the architect of my personal hell? Am I to retrace my steps into darkness? Perhaps I deserve no better. Perhaps…

[scrawled out]

I hear a hissing noise. The air is growing thick. The smell is familiar to me, and yet I am overcome by an overwhelming dread- I feel light headed and…

Page 2

I awoke in suffocating darkness which stretched endlessly in every direction. Faces flashed before my eyes as I came to- who were they? Their memory was a mystery. I heard their names whispered in my ear- Ben, Natalie, Matthew, Anastasia.

With a crack and a buzz, Halogen lights came to life above me and I found myself once again in an immaculate white room. It took some time to gain my bearings despite its familiarity. The only thing that stood out to me was a ladder to my left.

The rungs of the ladder are strapped with barbed wire. Above the ladder there is a trapped door in the ceiling. On the floor there appear to be sandals made of simple squares of steel, fitted with leather straps. I feel compelled to put them on and see what lies above.

I feel nauseous. I am trying to compose my-self. I feel sick. The room is spinning. I fee-

Page 3

It took me some time to adjust my eyes to the light. Now I can see that a simple LED screen rests upon the wall to my right displaying text. It appears to relay some instructions, but my eyes can’t quite focus on it. I will meditate until the effects of this gas wears off.

Page 4

I appear to have dozed off again. I’d hoped that this had all been a dream, but I awoke to find myself in the same sterile white room. As I lay here on the cold floor, I look to my left and I see the same barbed wire ladder. To my right I can see the same LED screen as before, but now I can read the text displayed upon it.

‘Climb the Ladder, Dr. Harlow.’

Page 5

The instructions on the screen echoed in my mind, and despite my fear, I knew there was no other choice. Slowly, I rose to my feet, feeling the cold, smooth floor beneath me. Every step towards the ladder was like a descent into madness, my heart pounding in my chest as if it were trying to break free.

The ladder’s rungs, adorned with sharp barbs, reminded me of the horrors I had unleashed upon others. Did they experience the same sense of dread as they climbed towards an uncertain fate? Or had they, too, questioned their actions and motives as I was now?

As I reached the ladder, I hesitated for a moment, my fingers trembling as I touched the cold, unforgiving metal. I knew that ascending it would lead me to more questions, more suffering, and yet, I had no other choice.

Page 6

With each rung I climbed, the pain in my fingers intensified as the barbs pierced my skin. The journey was agonizing, reminiscent of Subject #6’s ordeal. Did they suffer as I did, knowing that their actions had brought them to this point? The ladder seemed endless, each rung a step closer to a truth I feared to uncover.

Finally, I reached the top, my body trembling from exhaustion and fear. The trapdoor loomed above, its outline a stark contrast to the sterile walls. I pushed it open with trembling hands, revealing another dark void beyond.

As I climbed through, the trapdoor closed behind me with a resounding thud, plunging me into darkness once more. The hissing sound of gas filled the space, and I knew that unconsciousness would soon claim me.

Page 7

And then I woke up, as I always did, in this cold, featureless room. The familiarity of it was chilling. Memories began to resurface, memories of my own experiments. Faces and names flashed before me—Subject #1, Subject #2—all the way to Subject #7. Their suffering mirrored my own, and it was a torment I couldn’t escape.

The room was an eerie reflection of the horrors I had orchestrated. The white walls, the ladder, the trapdoor—they were all elements of my own design, now turned against me. Did they, too, experience the same despair that I had inflicted upon them? The symmetry of it was haunting.

Page 8

The shutter opened, and the scent of cooked meat filled the air, just as it had for Subject #5. Hunger consumed me, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. I devoured the meal in a frenzy, savoring the taste despite the impending dread. The gas began to seep into the room, and the realization hit me—it was a twisted cycle, a reenactment of their desires turned against them.

Memories clawed their way back, memories of the experiments I had orchestrated. Guilt choked me. Pain, both physical and emotional, became my constant companion. I deserved this torment, the ultimate retribution for my hubris. The faces of my victims haunted me, and I couldn’t escape them.

Page 9

As I write with my trembling hand, I know that an amputation will soon follow, but it won’t only be my hand they take, nor my face; it will be my identity. Memories will fade into dreams, and I will live on in my progeny.

I may see you again, Natalie, my little veterinarian.

Yours Truly,

G. F. Harlow

The Progeny Series

Subject #1

Subject #2

Subject #3

Subject #4

Subject #5

Subject #6

Subject #7

Subject #8

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Red Sector One