The walls grew closer.
Closer, closer, closer, now! I thought to stop, not like the music, but for a physical stop in the air. I kept going, stop stop stop! Ouch. I hit the walls hard, again. I had been trying to be able to stop in mid air, the incident that deafened me seared into my mind. I never, ever, used sound to stop, start, or even shift direction. If the sound went a little too loud my ears would still ache, as if they could still hear but weren’t telling me. If it became even louder, then my ears would have a piercing pain, like burning needles were making their way slowly through my skull. At first I was sure that my room would be nothing but a cage. After a few weeks I was even more sure that it would be boring and useless. After the second month I was positive that this place was a dismal prison meant to taunt me for the rest of my life. Days at a time I would sleep or just sit in a corner. The only thoughts I had when I wasn’t asleep or in a cocoon of depression were about how I was living. I never ate. There was no fresh air. How could I be living? If anything, it made me more depressed, like I was just a dismal ghost cursed to be encased in a glowing white box for eternity. I tried to turn the brightness down on the screens once or twice, but making it too low was pushing me over the edge. Feeling vibrations in the dark was not my favorite experience. Then I was stuck in an eternal gloom, because I could not bring myself to turn the brightness back up much. My depression, however, transformed into insanity, and then, of course, brilliance. I thought about how if I was going to live here forever, I might as well find out how. I was here because I could do things. I could think and then something would happen. I control this place. So I began to experiment, expand and test my limits. I soon could quickly change my direction, discern what vibrations made what sounds, and find certain sounds to make me sleep, wake up, and think, stimulate my mind to discover new things.
So now I was attempting to achieve one of my main goals, being able to stop in midair. Sometimes I can still hear music, as if it’s leaking into my head through my ruined ears. It almost trickles into my mind as I lay, resting. Maybe one day I’ll be able to hear again. Despite the small hopes and experiments, I still had no idea how I got here. Or even how I could do these things. I had memories, or at least information, of the outside world in my mind. Or at least how it used to be. None of those people looked like sound manipulating, floating beings like me. They weren’t showing it anyway.
Test subject two looked around the room, mumbling to himself. The Beaks looked in from the observation room and scribbled down notes. As subject two looked at the wall, exactly where one of the scientists were, a few of them shuddered. They had started getting used to it though, wherever test subject two looked, it was always at one of them. They were informed that the subject couldn’t see through the wall, but still the thought that he could see them lingered in the back of their minds, waiting for moments like this to pounce out briefly from oblivion.
Scientist #31241 dimmed the lights of the one-way screens, and immediately most of the scientists began to uncap their pens and watch as the subject responded.