The story so far:
Lying in the fetal position, listening to the foot steps echo down the hallway, Jack pounded the cold cement floor with a closed fist. ‘Re-Education’ was what they called it, a way to better society, a way to better the collective, a way to better control.
Although the drug did not consume the mind as it did to so many others, its side affects were not completely unfelt. Jack could feel the liquid creeping through him like liquid fire as he mustered the strength to stand.
“No, not this time. You will not win.”
Rolling to a seated position, drenched with sweat, Jack forced himself to his feet. The room spun as he closed his eyes to keep from falling back to the floor.
“No, I said no! Stand Jack, just stand.” He said to himself again in an almost hopeless chant, tightening his hands to fists.
Opening his eyes slowly, he began to walk to the door, each step resonating through him, causing his head to pound. Opening the door revealed a black hallway, stretching two hundred feet long smelling of old paint. A single row of fluorescent lighting stretched down the center of the ceiling with the light they cast being consumed by the black walls and floor.
“Time for a meeting”