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Hello! All feedback is welcome and appreciated, but please do not comment telling me to add more dialogue in the first two chapters. It was designed this way on purpose and I have no intention of adding more. Thank you! -^^-

"Atlas," He managed to rasp the single word. That was his name. It felt foreign to him. It must be his name; a name that someone else had given him, but who? The blurred memory of a woman passed like a shadow behind his eyes.

Darkness consumed his vision. Shifting onto his elbows, he moved his hand in front of his face but saw only black. Thoughts began to run through his head at lightning speed.

Where am I?

Why is it so dark?

Atlas―Who am I?

A searing white light exploded from a source to his right. The pain shot through his eyes and temples, and he squeezed them shut as quickly as he could. A violent natural response sent him falling back into a fetal position. The piercing hot pain behind his eyes left a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

After what felt like hours, the ringing subsided to a dull thrum. With some reluctance, Atlas slowly moved his hands from his temples. The pain behind his eyes was still there but he managed to open them, letting in a little light at a time. It was blinding. His eyes felt heavy and crusted as if they hadn't been opened in years. After a period of adjustment, the man deduced that the light hadn't been super bright, but the sudden appearance had certainly scarred his pupils. He blinked away the agony and took in his surroundings.

Atlas could just make out the outline of walls in the dim-lit space. As his eyes adjusted, he could see all-white elevator walls with a single button labeled '1'. The elevator door appeared to be stuck halfway open, the crack pouring out the light. He stood up, fighting nausea and the urge to sit back down. Atlas stumbled over to the button on his right. He guided his finger to the '1' and pressed it weakly. As prompted, the door opened the rest of the way.

The doors burst open, clearing a path for more light to tumble in. Atlas threw his arm up to shield his still sensitive eyes. On his raised arm, he noticed a silver watch. The cool metal provoked him to give it attention; the shiny material calling his eyes. The heavy piece of jewelry was set into the curve of his wrist, ticking away the time.

A thought struck Atlas. He rummaged through the pockets of his jeans, finding nothing. A feeling of urgency washed over him.

Why is my only possession a watch? What was it ticking to? Is it simply telling the time, or is it a warning?

Even if he was just paranoid, he didn't want to wait to find out. Atlas looked around the elevator for anything that might lead to the answer to 'why' and 'where'. He frantically smashed the lonely button in time and time again, but nothing budged. He walked around the exterior. Elevators always had buttons to direct them up or down. This one was different. Where buttons should be, was a smooth wall. His fears escalated and his heart sank. He was trapped.

Atlas, though feeling defeated, turned to examine the room.

Something here has to help me.

He was met with a clinically white room that was sparsely decorated with a chair, a table adorned with an antique lamp, and a box. Seeing the box piqued his curiosity and desire for answers. Atlas shuffled over to the chair and sat down, already exhausted. It felt like he hadn't moved his limbs in years. The small box sat waiting for him on the table. Gingerly taking the container, he realized just how long his fingernails were. They were perfectly clean but rather long. The anticipation was thrilling as he lifted the lock and opened the small wooden box.

Inside,, to his surprise, were fingernail clippers, scissors, and a protein bar. Looking at the bar caused a grumble from his stomach. He suddenly realized how hungry he was.

Fingernail clippers... oddly specific and not what I was hoping for.

The man was frustrated that the box did not contain anything more. He needed an escape, but he settled for the temporary pleasantries. Atlas made quick work of the protein bar and moved on to the fingernail clippers and scissors. Reaching up to feel his hair, he felt long waving locks that tickled his neck. Taking a chunk of hair, he snipped away until it fell just above his ears. When he looked down, he saw the black strands fall to his lap. Brushing the hair off, he continued to work on the rest.

The new haircut left him itchy and irritable even if the bothersome hair was no longer licking at his neck. With this new irritable attitude, he grew restless in the bright room. Glancing at his wrist, he noted that only 10 minutes had passed. No longer feeling tired, he had infinite energy bounding inside him. He moved around the room to get rid of some of this pent up energy.

"Hello?" Atlas spoke into the empty room as he made his laps.

The continued silence was no surprise. As the words left his lips, he realized just how parched he was. With a sigh of defeat, he slumped against a wall in a corner of the room. His wrist hung over his bent knees with the watch slowly ticking. The elevator door remained open as if it was inviting him to enter it once more. Atlas twiddled his thumbs as if he was waiting for something to happen. Minutes passed by with nothing but silence. His breathing was steady, but only because he willed it to be. He was trying to control his growing anxiety, paranoia, and frustration. As he leaned against the wall, he tilted his head back, staring at the white padded roof.

Then he saw it.

Right above him on the wall was a padded square that was raised a hair's width more than the adjacent squares. His breathing was no longer controlled. This time, however, his irregular breaths were a result of pure hope. He rose to his feet and touched the block. After all, this was the most interesting thing in the room. The large square let out a groan and sunk inward to line up with the wall. Nothing happened immediately, but within a few seconds, the elevator began to close with the sound of moving machinery. Atlas' ears heard the sound first before his eyes went wide with panic. He turned and ran to its ever-shrinking entrance.

"No!" Atlas yelled desperately. The elevator had no outer buttons and appeared to be his only way out. Just before he reached the doors, the metal slammed together in front of him. The momentum from his wobbly sprint sent him crashing into the hard metal door. He pounded on the cool surface, standing there helplessly. Atlas breathed hard from the exertion and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was ready to break down when he heard more machinery moving behind the door. Within seconds, the elevator opened back up. Atlas blinked as if the miracle was a trick of the light.

A way out.

Relief washed over him as he took in the sight. His relief was quickly shadowed by confusion. It was different. The walls of the elevator were trimmed with wood and a green carpet lay on the floor. This was a stark contrast from the clean white walls from earlier. Stepping inside the elevator, he spun around and took in the change of scenery with many more questions than he previously had. Atlas looked back towards the table where the box lay. He carefully stepped out of the elevator―fearing it would close― and put the contents of the box into his jean's pocket after wiping the hair-coated scissors on his shirt.

Atlas hurried back towards the elevator once more and stepped inside. He glanced at the buttons and was surprised to find only a '0' button. He took one last look at the white room as he pressed the button and the doors eased shut. The elevator moved downward, taking Atlas to the new and mysterious floor 0.