The button lit up and the elevator started moving. At least Mark assumed it was moving. The ride was very smooth and quiet, but after a few seconds the LCD screen changed from “L” to “M”. There was a ding and the door opened. Mark stepped out into a dimly lit office hallway that stretched left and right. The lights were all off except for a single security light near the end of the hall to his left, maybe thirty feet away. That end appeared to fork off in both directions in a T intersection. To the right the hallway was longer and ended in a metal door.

Pulling the small flashlight from his belt he pushed a button and a circle of light lit up the hallway a little more. He forced himself to keep his hand off the pistol. Even from this distance and in the dark he could see the badge reader on the metal door. Left first, then. As he walked down the carpeted floor he took in the silence. It wasn’t complete; there was a definite background hum of machinery and the slight buzzing of the security light.

As he approached the corner, passing under the security light, he slowed a little. The light was significantly less down each side of the fork. He fought down instincts that were screaming at him to stay in cover and stepped out into the cross of the T intersection. He glanced left first, seeing the hallway end only fifteen feet away, a bathroom sign next to a door on the left. He assumed it was a single-user restroom. Glancing right he saw more light coming from another turn at the end of the hall, likely another security light down that hallway. Between this section and that turn were two doors on the right.

He let his training win out this time, and moved left first to check the bathroom and start to clear the floor in a methodical manner. Gripping the handle he paused. Would it squeak like the break room had? The pause gave him the moment he needed to notice something else. Above the handle there was another metal circle used for the deadbolt on the door. This side showed a rotating message to display whether or not the door was locked. The message was red, and showed the word “Occupied”.

Chills sweeping down his back Mark slowly, quietly, let go of the handle. Once he removed his hand, his eyes scanned the door frame. No light appeared to be coming from the edges, but the door might be sealed well enough to close off light. His head spun. He nervously checked over his shoulder down the hallway. Nothing there. Someone was in there. It was a deadbolt, it couldn’t be accidentally left locked. Unless there was another way out? That didn’t make any sense.

He stayed there, risking discovery should someone leave the bathroom, so that he could listen. No sound came through the door. Mark realized his hand was on the pistol grip. Counting two more minutes out, he mentally shook himself out of the paralyzation. There must be another explanation. The bathroom was out of order. The sign on the lock was broken. Someone had stayed late and then fallen asleep reading a magazine on the toilet.

Letting go of the pistol he raised his right hand to the door in a fist and knocked. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was the only action he could take to keep himself sane. Preparing to make a quick dash around the corner if he heard any human sounds, he put his ear to the door. Let whoever was in there think they were hearing things. If anyone was in there. The quiet hum of machinery was oppressing in its solitude.

No sound came from the other side. He reached for the handle again and tried it. Locked. Locked? Rage exploded inside him and it was all he could do to contain himself. He knew the response. It was the same response he’d felt in the Security Office in response to the terror rising within when the camera recording had betrayed him. He had a natural desire to lash out to fix the problem. He could break down the door. Where would that get him? What if there was someone in there, now sitting terrified on a toilet seat because they were certain they were alone on this floor that no one else in the building should have access to?

A few deep breaths later, he turned his back on the bathroom and shone the light towards the other doors. He stepped quietly as he stepped sideways down the wall, regularly checking on the bathroom. The first door was wooden and had no apparently lock on it. He put his ear to the door and listened. The humming was slightly louder here. The door also felt a bit cool. He reached out and slowly turned the handle. A sliver of light appeared through the crack as the door opened.

Mark paused with just that small sliver. The air coming through the crack was noticeably cool. This must be a server room. That would explain the light as well. Ten seconds went by with no sound, so he opened the door slowly. The room was thin, but deep, and he guessed it to be the source of most of the humming. Tall, black metal boxes ran down the middle of the room, a few feet on either side of them. Cabling of various colors ran along the ceiling and walls before disappearing into conduit that poked out from every surface.

He closed the door behind him, almost regrettably. He badly wanted to watch that bathroom door, but at the same time, what would he say if someone emerged from it? He had no excuses for his presence. The room was plenty bright enough that he turned off the flashlight and secured it to his belt.

As Mark made his way around the server racks in the center of the room, he considered the size and use of the room. He was no techie, but he’d seen enough rooms like this in his career that the sheer size of this one impressed him. It must run the greater length of the first hallway, and while the cages on the racks were closed, and the few he tried locked, it was clear that they were all full. Either the executive floor had a lot more going on up there than he expected, or the lab technicians were using a lot of processing power for whatever work they were doing. Or was it simply storage? Were all of the camera’s recording history on these drives?

Rounding the end of the row and coming back down the other side was uneventful. Other than the actual entrance door, the place had been locked up tight, and though there were a few mobile carts with monitors, mice, and keyboards, there was nothing to plug them into. Mark closed one eye as he finished the last half of the walkway. The cool air in the room was starting to make bumps appear on his arms. He kept a mental note of the size of the server room, thirty racks in all, grouped in two sets of six, with a single cage separated from the others at the end. He reached for the handle, and thought again of the bathroom.

From experience, he knew that if he was found, it was best to look like he belonged. He opened the door and strode casually into the hallway, opening his eye as he did so. The darkness was deeper than it had been before, his one eye used to the bright light in the server room, but his other eye had been ready for that darkness, and Mark could clearly see that the hallway was empty. Gripping his flashlight once again, he flashed it towards the lock on the bathroom. From here he could barely make out that it was still red.

He turned and moved towards the next door. This one also had no lock on it. A slow turn and the door opened. No light, no moving air. Opening the door more, he flashed the immediate wall, saw a switch but left it off. The beam of light scanned the room as he finished opening the door. Walls were lined with desks, which in turn were filled with cables, various hardware and electronic parts, random tools, but no people in sight. A couple of the desks had monitors that were on, lazy lines of a screen saver bouncing around them. This was undoubtedly the IT Office.

Mark entered and closed the door behind him. Navigating the room carefully, he approached the first computer and hit spacebar on the keyboard. The monitor lit up and showed a login screen. Grimacing, he turned, took a few steps, and hit another key. The same image appeared on the other monitor. It was what he’d expected, but not what he hoped for.

He left the room, glancing once again towards the bathroom. Still closed. He stepped towards it until he could see the red sign in the deadbolt, then turned towards the lit hallway behind him. Walking confidently, he rounded the corner, only to find a hallway just like the first, same metal door at the end. This one had one more door near the end, on the right.

Approaching quietly, he tried the lockless door. It opened and revealed a large closet full of various cleaning supplies and shelves with various tool kits; boxes of various pipe fittings; and even some gas masks hanging near the door.

He glanced to his left at the locked metal door. Pulling the keycard from his pocket, he reached over and tried it on the reader. A beep and small green light, but Mark didn’t open the door, instead glancing back into the maintenance closet at the gas masks on the shelves. They were a bit beat up. Well used. He entered the room and looked behind the door, finding exactly what he expected. Hazmat suits. He picked up one of the gas masks, but didn’t put it on.

Closing the door, he turned back to the metal one, beeped the card, and opened it. The sound of machinery exploded into the relative silence. There was light within, but not a lot, just enough to see the maze of pipes, conduit, cables, machinery and vents, lit inconsistently by small, dull, maintenance lights placed at seemingly random, casting shadows in every direction. It felt like the space went on forever, no back wall visible in the darkness. Mark sniffed a few times, but didn’t smell anything. Certainly the suits and masks were for when something broke, more a safety precaution than a necessity, or else there would be an airlock here.

He set the mask down in the door jam to prop it open, and went through, letting the door close gently on the mask. His flashlight swept across the area, revealing nothing, but he could feel a tingling on the back of his neck, his nerves disliking the idea of exploring this dark cave of pipes and almost painfully loud machinery. Visibility was just about nill, and he wouldn’t be able to hear a thing. Besides, what was he expecting to find here?

Shaking his head he turned around. Suddenly that mess of pipes behind him felt like the perfect hiding place, and he even felt himself take a step back. Breathing stopped, the pistol fumbled out of its holster into his hand and raised in front of him. The dark black eyes of the gasmask stared at him from where it hung on the door handle.

An involuntary gulp and he started breathing again. The door was close. He scanned the area around him quickly, gun and flashlight held out in front of him. There was nothing here. The bathroom. With two strides he reached out and opened the door, pistol pointed down the hallway, light rising to illuminate it.

The storage room door was closed, hallway empty. Taking the mask off the handle, he closed the metal door behind him. He quickly turned the handle on the storage closet and threw the door open. He flicked the light switch as the door banged loudly against the wall. He scanned the small room down the pistol sight. Empty. Looking over his shoulder and back down the hallway he called out, “Hello?” No response. Not a sound.

He turned off the light, closed the door, then jogged to the corner. Leaning out with flashlight and pistol he peaked around. All three doors were closed and the hallway empty. This was insane. He had set down the gasmask, right? Who had played this trick on him? He quickly moved down the hallway towards the bathroom, stopping when the beam of light caught a flash of green. There had been someone in the bathroom. Who? Who had snuck up and moved the gasmask? The noise in the maintenance area would have made it easy enough. But who? And why? Wouldn’t they at least want to ask him what he was doing here, or introduce themselves before playing a prank on him?

Calm. Mark stood in the middle of the half lit hallway, not moving. Brain running in circles, but muscles frozen. He knew that he had to look in that bathroom, but he also knew that he wouldn’t find anything. He was already certain of it. A quick look over his shoulder showed an empty hall behind him. Taking a few steps backwards, he reached over and opened the door to the IT Office, then flicked on the light. A quick glancing search told him it was empty. Flick light, close door, move forward, turn handle. The server room light and cool air poured out. “Anyone here?” He called into the room above the hum of the servers.

Risking a quick glance down either isle of the room, he stepped back into the hallway. He wouldn’t be able to check between the server groups or the back wall without losing sight of the bathroom for a significant period. But he could keep an eye on this door. Then he remembered the second metal door. The hallways were in a U shape, both ends of the U entering into the maintenance area. Whoever had done this to him, if they were clever, would have already run around and back into that area, disappearing in the dark maze of pipes and ductwork. Mark cursed at himself for being such a jumpy fool. He’d gone soft quickly.

No, it was this place. It had him completely out of sorts. Sighing he holstered the pistol, then walked to the T intersection. He glanced down the hallway as he passed, it was empty, as expected. Reaching towards the bathroom he knocked on the door. No response. Handle turned, door opened to darkness. He reached in, felt the wall, and flipped the switch.

It was a small, simple bathroom, exactly what he expected. The only thing that surprised him was the message “Hi Mark” written in what appeared to be blood on the mirror above the sink. Something in his brain clicked. It all came together at once, and he actually started laughing. He smiled, nodded, flipped off the light and closed the door. He finally knew what was going on.

Attaching the flashlight to the belt, Mark smiled, shook his head, and moved towards the elevator, feeling better than he had in days. It all made sense now. The mask on the door was a prank, but it was only part of the larger prank. It was all a setup. He wondered where all the camera’s were hidden. Beep went the elevator. He stepped inside and hit the button marked “L”. Would they be waiting for him in the lobby? Maybe they didn’t know he’d figured it out yet, so probably not.

Was it Japanese? Their game shows and reality TV had started infiltrating the USA, getting big ratings online. He didn’t blame them. They’d done a good job. It would be absolutely hilarious to anyone on the other side of the cameras to see the big tough Marine so scared out of his mind. Mark almost felt bad that he was going to ruin it all. The doors opened to an empty lobby.

A few silent steps, a beep, and Mark entered the Security Office. One of the monitors was completely black. He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to check which one. Jeremy had put on quite the performance. Very convincing. He crossed the small office and opened the door on the opposite side. Continuing down the small corridor he opened the door into the changing room. Short minutes later he was in the lab, making his way to Cardio. Some of the scientists noticed him and waved or said hello, he responded with generic greetings.

The door to cardio opened and Mark stepped in. There was Zack, at the computer again. “Hey, Zack, how’re you doing, buddy?” He was overly chipper, Zack noticed.

“What’s with you?”

Approaching the man, Mark stopped just short of the desk. “I figured it out, Zack, you don’t have to pretend any more.” The pretend lab tech raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t respond. “Look, I know you’re just part of the crew, but be straight with me now, I know it’s all a scam.” The man’s eyes widened and he looked around the room. At the hidden cameras and microphones maybe?

Mark was about to say something when the scientist stood and put a single finger up to the glass of his helmet in a shushing gesture. Then he pointed to the latch on his helmet, held up two fingers and shook them. What was he doing? Zack unlatched the helmet, then motioned for Mark to do the same, which he did. The helmets came off together. There was a surprising amount of noise in the lab, the hum of the machinery above and around them.

Zack leaned in close and spoke, “We have about two minutes, it won’t hurt to have the helmets off that long, and then we can be sure no one is listening through the coms.” He looked expectantly at Mark, who was suddenly feeling a little foolish.

“I was just saying, I already know it’s a big joke, Zack. Why don’t you just tell me everything you know and we can end this damn charade?”

A very concerned look came over the other man. “I’m not sure what you already know but…” he trailed off and looked around the upper corners of the room. Mark tried to follow his gaze, but all he could see were pipes and cables. Zack’s face scrunched up in the manner a man’s face does when he’s trying very hard not to lose it. His eyes were turning red and glistening with tears. “I don’t want to die, Mark, but I don’t know what to do.”

Heat started to well up in Mark, and he felt the anger about to break loose. “Look, Zack, I’ve had enough of this bullshit. It may have been funny for a day or two, but I’m done, OK? You’re a great actor, you’re all great actors, but come on, this is getting ridiculous. No one makes three-fifty as a lab technician. Monitors don’t just go black. Recordings don’t just change on their own. Squeaky doors, the mask and the mirror, the silly things in all the tanks and jars. Seriously, how long did they expect it to last?”

He had been gesturing and even chuckling a little bit here and there, angrily, but he noticed now that Zack’s composure and completely changed. He looked… curious? “What are you talking about, Mark? What do you think is happening here? Who is ‘they’?”

“The show, the producers, whoever. This has to be some kind of reality TV show or something. Just give it up.”

Zack’s eyes went wide. “Well, now, that’s a new one. Better than the hallucinations excuse.” His eyes seemed to melt as his whole countenance fell into despair. “I hope to god you’re right, but,” shaking his head he mumbled something that Mark had a hard time hearing, then reached for his helmet.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re just going to keep pretending?”

“This isn’t pretend, Mark. This is as real as it gets.” Zack attempted to place the helmet on, but Mark put a hand on it. The Marine wanted to be angry, but he wasn’t. He wanted to shake the man, smack him, scream out, but something else was inside of him. It was fear. Fear he was wrong. “If it makes you feel better,” came the emotion filled voice, sounding like it had the day before, “I don’t believe the hallucination theory either.”

“Then what are you hiding? What’s in those jars? Why are you afraid? Why is everyone afraid? What the hell is going on here, if it’s not just a big fucking prank?” Zack was shaking his head. “What, Zack? I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Tears began streaming out of his eyes as he glanced around the upper corners of the room again. “I can’t, I can’t! It’s watching, it’s always watching! Please, just go! Get out of here!” He pulled the helmet out from under Mark’s hand and quickly put it back on, latching it, then slumping into the chair, putting the face plate into his palms. His body shook. Replacing the helmet and latching it, Mark could here the man’s sobs.

This was too much. It wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. Or if he was, they were really trying to sell it. Would such a project involve more than one “victim”? “I’m sorry, Zack. I guess I don’t know what’s going on, but if I can, I’ll help you. And if I’m right, and you’re faking this, I’ll kick the shit out of you later.” Was that a laugh through the tears?

“Deal,” came the choked sound of Zack’s reply.

All of Mark’s elation at having “figured things out” was gone. The silence inside the suit seemed complete to him as he wandered back through the lab. The objects of the scientist’s work seemed more grotesque and alien than ever before. The mirror and the mask loomed in his mind. Well, maybe there wasn’t some overall prank being pulled here, but that didn’t mean those things weren’t still a prank pulled on him. Had Jeremy snuck back into the lab while he was sure Mark would be out on his first patrol?

After changing, he left through the Security hall. Back in the office he noticed that all of the monitors were working fine again. He watched the one that had gone black. Nothing weird seemed to be going on in any of the rooms as the view rotated through. If only he had stopped for the brief seconds it would have taken to figure out which camera and write down the time.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what the cameras around had been showing, to see if he could match the rotation. He hadn’t paid close enough attention. Damnit! Why had he let his hair-brained theory cloud his judgement? Grabbing the pad of sticky notes he wrote down which monitor, and an estimation of the timeframe when the blackout had occured. He’d have to look back through the recordings later. Maybe without his posting the time out in the open the recording wouldn’t be tampered with? He’d likely never know either way.

Sticking the note in his pocket he moved to the door and exited the office. He walked quickly towards the elevator. Time was running out for him to search the other two floors, and he wanted to get another look at that mirror.

The small click of the Security Office door closing behind him sounded. The elevator keypad beeped, and the door opened. He quickly stepped in and punched the button marked “M”. He unholstered his pistol and the flashlight. If whoever had done this got a rubber bullet to the chest, Mark wouldn’t even feel bad about it. Ding. Doors opened. He swept the light from the right, clear, turned left, clear. Proceeding down the hallway he kept an eye on the corners ahead. He kept to the right wall, then performed the sweep in reverse at the T intersection. Clear.

A few steps and he reached for the handle of the bathroom door. The lock showed “Occupied”, the red background gleaming in the beam of light. Bad mistake. Whoever was playing games with him was going to find Mark to be a very poor sport. Beyond caring if someone was sitting on the toilet, Mark took a step back then kicked forward, hitting the plate that showed the message square on.

A loud pop boomed through the hall as the frame broke and the hinges wrenched free. The door exploded open, torn from its hinges it made a loud bang against the wall behind it then toppled to the side. The light was off, but his flashlight showed him everything he needed to see. The small room was empty. The mirror was clean.