Character Aesthetic by cloudsfloating

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"Do you think this is enough food and water?"

Atlas nodded. "Yeah, we have two bags full. I think we will be fine if we ration it." He confidently tapped the bag Hope had made him. After declining the bag previously, Atlas decided it would be best for them to collect more while they could.

They were still on the same floor but had moved sideways to collect some supplies.

Hope looked into her bag and frowned, "Let's move over one last time. I can squeeze one more water bottle in here."

Atlas grinned at her and strode over to the elevator. After jumping into it several times, Hope had proposed they add cushions to it. Atlas bent down to adjust the coarse couch cushions so that he would land directly on them. He went to the coffee table and prepped his foot to smash it in, used to the routine after so many repetitions of it. Bringing it down, he felt the glass give under his weight.

Hope waited patiently inside the elevator as Atlas tossed the key card in her direction.

Hope caught the card and slid it inside the elevator slot. Humming as she waited for it to eject out again she knew what to expect now. Once the key exposed itself, she threw it across the room where Atlas was waiting. Atlas looked up at Hope, signaling for her to move to the back of the space, and slid the key into the safe. He immediately pivoted on his heels and launched himself at the doors. His plush surroundings provided a form of comfort as gravity took hold of him. The adrenaline rush was still present even after many repeated steps. He raised his head to grin at Hope again as she extended her small hand towards him.

Atlas took her hand, brought himself to his feet, and stretched. He could hear his labored breathing and feel his heart pumping blood through his veins. He let out a sigh as they stepped into the room.

Hope walked straight to the flowers to rearrange them and activate the safe. Atlas took the time to relax and jumped over the back of the couch. He found himself staring up at the blue ceiling and listening to the click of the safe. He let his eyes fall shut and clasped his hands across his stomach.

"What now?" Hope asked. Atlas opened his eyes to see a wave of red hair hanging over him. A pair of vibrant green eyes looked into his blue ones. He smiled and sat up. She raised her head and took a step back.

"Honestly, I didn't get much rest when we were trapped in the first room. Maybe we can get some shut-eye?" Atlas yawned.

"That sounds good to me," Hope agreed.

"You can take the couch. I'll sleep on the landing cushions," Atlas raised himself from the couch and moved to the elevator. Dragging the cushions just outside of the elevator, he arranged them into a makeshift bed. He crashed his body onto the surface and snuggled into them. The cushions were overstuffed, but they felt great against his tired body. He could feel himself sinking into them as his heavy eyelids closed.

"Goodnight, Atlas," Hope called from the couch.

"Goodnight, Hope."

With that, he drifted off into a blissful sleep.

Finally, within reach of a dream, Atlas let his body relax. Behind his eyelids, he could see Hope's face framed by her bright red hair. She was smiling at him. The kind of smile that showed her teeth and made its way to her eyes. He spent a long time staring at her, mesmerized. Then everything changed.

Suddenly, Hope's eyes went wide. She seemed terrified. The blood rushed from her face, leaving her pale, as she reached out to him. He moved his hand to take her outstretched one and reassure her. Just before their hands touched, Hope was falling. She fell into a pit of black nothingness. Atlas could only watch helplessly as she continued her descent.

"Hope!" he screamed her name and fell to his knees. He felt his stomach turn to knots as she faded from his vision.

"Wake up!" he had heard that voice before. He spun around. It was him. There was nothing but darkness surrounding him as his doppelganger spoke to him once again.

"You have to wake up! We talked about this."

"How am I supposed to escape?" he questioned his other-self.

"The elevators. They all connect and they all end somewhere. Find out where. You have to stop them!"

"Stop who?" Atlas asked earnestly.

"That's not important right now," a soft voice spoke from behind him. He turned around and found Hope before him again. "I am in danger, Atlas, and so are you. Time is running out."

At the mention of time, Atlas looked to the watch on his wrist. To his horror, the watch was spinning rapidly. The hours passed by in seconds; the hands twisted and turned erratically. He looked to Hope to find her gone. Turning to look at his mirror image, he demanded answers. He felt the familiar feeling of rage build up. His clone knew the answers to his questions, but he never revealed them.

"Where did she go? How are we in danger!?"

"You have to leave! You have to free the others!" the man in front of him sunk into the floor. The darkness absorbing him. Atlas leapt at the figure but felt only the cool ground beneath his fingers. He was also being sucked into the ground. His body fell out the other side and continued to plummet into the darkness.

Atlas woke up in a cold sweat. His mind was racing as he processed the dream. It had felt so real; so real that it terrified him. He jumped backward off of the uncomfortable cushions when he saw a person beside him.

"Sorry!" she shouted holding her hands up to him apologetically, "I came to check on you. You woke me up when you started shouting," she said sheepishly. There was concern in her deep green eyes.

Atlas rubbed his eyes and mumbled his apology. He glanced down to the watch on his wrist to see it softly ticking at a normal pace. With a sigh, he gave her a weak smile. "I'm fine, thank you. Just a bad dream." He nodded to her, "Get some sleep. I'm sorry I woke you."

He watched the girl as she grinned at him and walked to her sleeping spot. He had only been asleep for a few hours and decided to curl back up and take one more shot at a good night's sleep.

Eventually, Atlas' brain drifted into his dreams. At first, there was nothing, but within seconds, a bright light flashed above him. He was lying flat on his back. Squeezing his eyes to smother the pain, he turned his head to the side.

Once the white light subsided, he could feel his wrists strapped to his sides. He was tired and his vision was a white blur. He yanked on the bindings, but to no avail. He let out a scream as pain suddenly shot through his shoulder blade.

"Oh. You woke up. You weren't supposed to see this. You will be punished for that," a voice said from what he could only assume was behind him. He craned his neck to try and see its origin, but his head was also strapped against the table. He felt groggy as he took in more of his surroundings. He could make out a blurry table beside him with a few tools lined up neatly. Among the tools was a pair of scissors, a scalpel, forceps, and a needle connected to a plastic tube. The tube reached the table beneath him. Snapping out of his delirious state, he jerked against the restraints in another futile attempt. Panic flooded his body. He was trapped again. Where was Hope? Is she okay?

Above him, a face appeared. It was a woman. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore a mask over the lower half of her face. She carefully reached for the metal table and took the giant threatening needle.

"Can't have you screaming can we? You will disturb the others," the stern-looking woman's tone carried a note of sarcasm. She brought the needle close to his arm and inserted it into his inner elbow. As the IV entered his vein, he slowly fell back into unconsciousness.

Moments later, he woke up once more. He was cold. Too cold. The only thing he could see was metal bars and a small concrete space. He was trapped. He scrambled over to the bars and grasped the rough surface. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of thousands of other cages.

No one dared to make a sound. He could only watch the broken people rotting away in their cages.

"Where are we going?" he heard a voice call. He attempted to lean out of my cage eagerly. Just as he peered through the bars, a second voice spoke:

"Quiet, I don't need traitors like you speaking to me. You're a disgrace to our kind." The other voice spoke with venom and contentment. The steps sounded closer, and both figures came into view. One was a woman dressed in all black. She dragged the other figure behind her by a set of chains. The chained figure wore tattered clothing and her red hair was matted. She looked like Hope, but she was too old to be her.

The woman must have felt Atlas' gaze because she turned to look at him. Her eyes instantly lit up. "Atlas!"

She jerked her body towards him only to be torn backward by the guard. The guard brought down a metal rod and the prisoner let out a scream as electricity streamed through her body. Atlas watched in horror, unable to speak. A tear escaped the woman's eye.

"Stay strong! Never lose hope!" she shouted as she was kicked and dragged away by the angry guard. He watched as her body crumpled to the floor and her face hung lifelessly. She gave him a weak smile as if she was trying to reassure him. Then she was gone.

Finding his voice, Atlas shouted towards them, "Wait! Come back! Let me out! Let her go!" He didn't know this woman, but he felt responsible for her. He shook at the bars of his cage.

"You're a little spitfire aren't ya?" another female guard said as she came into his field of vision, her footsteps falling loudly against the dirty floor. She held a clipboard to her chest and gave him a devious grin. "You'll be perfect for project 87."

The woman reached up and hit a button beside his cage. Instantly, he was flying backward against the metal. The cage was moving and the last thing he heard before everything went dark again was the falsely sweet voice saying, "Goodbye, 030118."

Atlas jerked up from his dream once more. No, it wasn't a dream.

It was a memory.

Atlas breathed in and out to try and calm his racing heart as he tried to process everything. This time Hope was sound asleep and there was no one to console him. He was all alone with his thoughts and the possibility of sleep was long gone.