The White Complex

Everything changes for 1109853, more commonly known as Christine, when her closest friend discovers cracks in the white complex, a massive living space filled with teenagers without memories. When people start to disappear, to what lengths will Christine take to escape the white?

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7. Torn White Masks

My eyes slowly peel open and the first thing I feel is pain. It sears all over my body in a palpitating thrum of rythm. I moan softly and I hear a rustle from coming from beside me. “Hush,” the voice whispers with a cracked voice. I try to talk, but no voice escapes my lips. “It's going to be okay,” I turn towards to cause of the sound to meet deep blue eyes. His eyes burned with something painful and dark, unlike anything I had seen before. His straight hair is thrown back is a rumpled mess and his face seems to have aged in a matter of days. I recall something of a dream but it passes instantly replaced by my the horrific realities of the night before. The pain, my sore throat trying to scream and Mark’s voice calling for me. I look towards him now. Roughly I manage to make a strange noise that comes out cracked and I solidified. I try again and manage a weak “What happened?” I cough harshly from the dryness of my throat heaving for air. Finally I am able settle myself and I just lay still Mark watching over me. After a moment of peace, the boy with the tousled hair and deep eyes breaks the silence. “Maybe I should tell you what I know from the beginning first or at least my theory,” he says lightly his voice gentle and comforting. “There's something that happened to me that I didn't tell you about,” he pauses and I nod for him to continue with a slight cough. “My ID numbers appeared on the screen before we tried to escape. I ignored it and they took me and injected me with some sort of liquid.” At that he pulls his long, white sleeve up to reveal his bicep and the barely visible raised dot marring it. “They returned me right after doing so, unlike everyone else they took. I was confused at first and certain I would turn zombie-like in a matter of days, but when I didn't, I decided to continue with the escape hoping I wouldn't be a threat to you in any way. When your number was called, I couldn't bear the idea of them taking you and making you a zombie. If you would have been like the rest, you would have surely died. I have a theory Christine. I believe we are different from everyone else. What they put in us killed everyone else, but we survived. I think that's why they did this to us,” at that point Marks strong voice breaks and I feel his body shudder as he rests his head on my bed. The shock of his actions almost distract me from my pain but not quite. I had never seen Mark sob before, let alone cry, and the idea of its reality killed me. Slowly the tears began to roll down my face in some sick, twisted harmony. I could feel him clasp at my hand holding it tightly and I let him. He feels so human and physical. It's a shocking transformation from his extremely detached persona of the last few days. I can't speak so Mark does instead his voice high and vulnerable with emotion. “I can't believe they did that to you Crissy. I still can't believe it,” He sucks in a harsh breath and tries to slow down his breathing pattern. “The pain was impossible. I can still feel it's phantoms now although not nearly as greatly as what you are going through at the moment,” I feel more silent tears cascade down my cheeks as I stare up into dark eyes. I try to cover a sob but it escapes my lips anyhow. “I'm so sorry Crissy. I am so sorry,” Mark mumbles softly. “I am only thankful you passed out from the pain sooner than I. You thankfully were given that sweet blessing of release but still it changes nothing. They violated us and made us suffer through you're like pain. No human being should ever have to endure that. No one!” He screams, this time turning his head towards the small camera on the ceiling. There is rage in his eyes. I'm shocked by his sudden and strange transformation, suddenly turning emotional and openly hurt. It gives me no joy to see him in pain, but it does in fact give me hope for the deeper soul-like part of his inner being. Another sob breaks in Mark’s throat and he thus clears it profusely. “A while after you passed out,” he continues, “the door’s pressure released and I was able to get inside to see you. I uncuffedyou and carried you here and you've been sleeping for a whole day. I know what you are going through. I think they injected us with the same liquid and if our side effects are anything alike, you'll have recurring pain all day, although none the likes of what you experienced earlier...” He says, his voice fading out with the reoccurrence of the bad memory. “Here,” he says, breaking his train of deep thought and picking sometime up from the table. “I assumed you would be hungry after... The pain,” he continued to hand me a water bottle of some sort of incredibly thick liquid. “It seems they were generous enough to provide you with something beneficial to eat. I wouldn't give you any of this stuff if I had the choice,” shakily I raise my hand and take the bottle from him, unscrewing the cap and raising it to my lips. Before I sip, I take in the scent of the warm brown liquid. It almost smells like a sort of beefy soup except blended. I bring the bottle to my mouth a choke down a couple sips of the stew like liquid. It tastes strongly of beef and other sorts of mixed vegetables. Nothing excellent in flavor but certainly hardy in composition. After struggling with it a bit, i give up and place the bottle on the table close to my bedside. “Thank you,” I manage to say between ragged breaths, smiling for the first time in days.

“No, don't say that. I have been neglecting you for days and I don't deserve your apology. After they injected me with that hateful serum, I curled up inside of myself and shut out the only person left in my world: you,” I look up into Mark’s sorrowful, anguished face filled with remorse. I only nod, not being able to form proper words. He stands up slowly, releasing my hand. “I better leave you to rest. Hopefully the pain will subside soon. It's good you have slept so much already. Now I can only hope you will be given that blessing again. At that he walked out of my room, closing the door and leaving me in peace to fight through the pain and struggle for sleep.

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