Trapped inside an abandoned Cold War military asylum by my son-in-law while tens of thousands watch live
👉 Previous decision: You chose to hide immediately inside the nearest doctor’s duty room and barricade the heavy door.
The deafening wail of the siren chased them. Arthur and Julian scrambled into the nearest doctor’s duty room, the heavy steel door groaning shut behind them.
“Help me!” Arthur grunted, already shoving a heavy oak desk against the doorframe. Julian dropped his camera and pushed with him.
The ancient wood scraped against the floor, settling with a dull thud. They wedged a second desk, then a filing cabinet, creating a makeshift barrier.
Arthur’s breath hitched in his throat. He ran a hand over the cold metal of the door, listening for sounds from the corridor. Nothing but the siren’s shriek.
Julian scanned the dim room. “At least we have a moment.”
Arthur’s gaze fell on the polished surface of the chief doctor’s desk. A small, black device, no larger than a cigarette pack, sat next to a stack of yellowed patient charts. A tiny red light pulsed steadily on its side.
He reached for it, his fingers brushing the cool plastic. A modern wiretap receiver.
“He’s listening,” Arthur whispered, his voice raspy. “Derek. He wired this room.”
Julian peered over Arthur’s shoulder. His eyes widened at the sight of the blinking light.
“He wants to record us,” Julian said, his voice low. “Our panic.”
A low hiss filled the air. Arthur looked up, his blood running cold. From the ceiling frame, two heavy pressure doors began to descend, thick steel plates gliding silently downwards.
They sealed the window first, then slowly crept towards the floor, forming a hermetic box.
“Pressure seal,” Arthur breathed, his hand flying to his chest. “This isn’t just a room. It’s a containment.”
The air grew heavy. The siren outside began to fade, muffled by the sealing doors, replaced by the chilling, airtight silence of their trap.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 7 to continue the story
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