The Mold

The Mold

By: Project C-35

Amy awoke on a thick sheet of metal held to a moldy brick wall with chains creating a sad excuse of a bed, it looked like it belonged inside of a prison.

In her confused state she looked around the room to find a metal toilet with a small amount of water inside yet no sink or dividers, an old fashioned camera placed in every corner of the small room to watch her, a dim light bulb flickering, and a small slot in the wall.

It looked as though it had been broken out over a lengthy period of time with rudimentary tools.

What really confused Amy was the lack of a door, there were no vents either.

She wondered why she wasn’t suffocating, it was a small room, only the size of a broom closet but air still had to come from somewhere.

She had no way out nor any idea where she was, or why for that matter.

Amy called for help but received no reply.

She shouted for anyone to tell her where she was but there was no response.

Amy could feel her side had been bruised but from what?

She screamed for help over and over, she stared at the cameras for hours yet there was still no response.

Amy wondered if she had done something wrong but she couldn’t remember, did she get in a fight?

Does she have a concussion?

Why was there no one responding?

She looked into the metallic toilet, it was so clean she could see herself in it, her amber eyes, her newly shaved hair, her scattered bruises, her slashed cheek.

Amy wasn’t stupid, she knew that someone had hurt her but the question remind, who?

Amy tried to look through the slot but outside was pure darkness, like an all consuming abyss desperate for new prey.

The exposed lightbulb flickered intensely when she looked and she could have sworn that she saw something move in the dark.

Was she starting to see things?

Was she losing it?

No no no, she was fine, she just needed some more sleep.

Amy rests her head on the cold metal she woke from.

The sound of crashing metal woke Amy up.

“Hello?” her voice shook as she asked.

She was so hopeful for someone’s help yet no one was there, the only thing that changed was that now there was a tray of three baked potatoes half way through the slot.

She ran straight for the slot hoping to spot the person that placed the food, only for her to slip to the rough cement floor, scraping her knee.

She threw herself back up and tried to spot someone but the slot only showed the dark abyss.

She took the potatoes to her little metal bed as she spotted the writing in mold on one of the potatoes making the message of.

“I will help you but don’t speak to the shadows.”

Amy was terrified, who would send her a message made of mold by then she looked to see the walls inside were no longer moldy.

She didn’t really understand but she was thankful for any kind of friend, then a strange idea came to her.

Mold is a living thing right?

Was the mold helping her?

She then realized how ridiculous she was sounding, she hadn't been alone that long right?

She didn’t know why she was imprisoned but it didn’t matter, she was trapped by someone and she needed to find a way out why.

She eats the soggy potatoes, taking care not to touch the one with mold.

Amy began to pace around her cell for something to do, as she counted every step.

1, 2, 3, 10, 30, 50, 100, they added up quicker than she expected yet she did it until she felt tired and so she would lie down on cold metal.

Before drifting asleep she turned to the mold and said faintly, “Thank you.”

Amy jolted up, the time was getting to her, has it been a day, maybe two?

She wouldn’t be shocked if it had been weeks as her cuts and bruises healed.

The mold was her only company.

She still wondered if she had gone completely mad or maybe this was just a weird dream.

Amy didn’t stop trying to escape, she bashed her shoulder into the wall in hopes of breaking it.

This only served to injure her further yet she still clung to her ever thinning hope, she began to speak to the mold more as every minute passed.

She called it her hero yet it did nothing, she praised it like a god yet it did nothing, she saw the mold as someone to trust and secrets could be kept.

She told the mold about her family, about her friends, about her secret lover.

The mold was talked to for hours until Amy decided that it was probably night again and went straight back to sleep on the chained metal sheet.

Amy awoke with a burst of energy she screamed until her voice was broken, she had finally snapped.

She slammed her head into the brick wall until she started to bleed then she vomited onto the cold floor.

She strolled calmly over to the toilet and used the small amount of water inside to drown herself.

Amy Smith lasted 27 hours and 13 minutes, we are now ready for the next subject.