Damage Control

Always be careful where you shop...

The map said it was the right place. I couldn't  believe it was however. It led to what appeared to be a rear shipping entrance. Apart from some boards leaning against what used to be a door, there did not seem to be any regular way in.

Beyond the barricade, lights quietly buzzed with life. I could hear shuffling inside, perhaps someone sweeping, or a machine running. I could hear someone hammering busily, perhaps deeper inside the building.

It was definitely the right place. I could make out the logo on the remnants of a nearby shipping crate. A half smoked cigarette lay smoldering nearby, it's owner interrupted for more pressing matters.  In the end, I could only surmise they were undergoing some sort of renovation.  Moving the boards aside, I slid in through the space created. 

Once my eyes adjusted, I could make out my surroundings. Piles of shipping containers riddled my view. The silhouettes of statuary could be made out in the distance. It appeared the map I was given lead to the Damage warehouse, not the store itself.

In the hopes that I could find someone to assist me, I made my way to the light at the center of the floor. As I rounded the final wall of crates, I came to realize why I had been feeling on edge, and where the light was coming from.

Fear is a strange thing. When I am truly afraid, I lock up completely. I can't breathe, I can't speak, I can't even move my neck. This was one of those times.

I knew then, I should not have been there.

On either side of a large desk, lay a row of glass and steel stasis pods. In the pod closest to me, a woman stood naked and complacent. Staring silently ahead, her breathing was slow and rhythmic.  A pod on the far side of the desk also held an occupant. Neither seemed to react to my presence however.

It was a lot to take in at once. One thing was certain. I had to get out of there before anyone realized I had seen any of this.

Instinct still froze me in place, my throat constricted, keeping me from calling out in surprise. Adrenaline was building, but not fast enough to keep up with the desire to flee.

When I finally managed to break free of it's grip and run, my world fell silent.

I awoke relaxed. To the smell of perfume. Like one of those perfect mornings bathed in a sunbeam. I stirred back to life, not on the warehouse floor, but rather, to the inside of one of the pods I so recently discovered.

Looking back at me, on the inside of the glass, I could see my reflection staring helplessly forward. Like the woman in the tube beside me, my face was complacent but for a slight smile. I tried in vain to latch back on to those last moments of fear, but simply could not.

It was strange this, knowing I should be afraid, but being unable to feel it.

--continued in part 2.

In the meantime, come visit the warehouse, if you dare... Damage Warehouse