The lift door stalled before opening, sending shockwaves across the nine of us. Not a great start, but it's going to get worse; it's just that none of us know it yet. There were no instrument panels in the lift so we had no way of knowing how many floors we’d traversed, or even if we moved at all; no vaguely sensual a-sexual voice reassuring us of upward motion, just the jarring revelation of an bereft office suite with a single table in the middle of the room.
Emma was the first one out of the lift; she was showing signs of claustrophobia and all of us felt her pain. Nine squashed in a lift; surely the subject of an extremely poor joke. Even Nat let her dismount the lift first, and she was a bitch. We’d only been with each other for three minutes and it had been enough to figure out who everyone was.
Nat was obviously a middle-manager who could see the glass ceiling and let everyone else pay the price. Phil had already figured out that his best bet was to cozy up to her. He was chubby in a sadistic way and had obviously become the bully in school before anyone else tried to do it to him. Dido was a complete contrast; she was a lovely soul: quiet and observant. She made a joke: if we were stuck in the lift over a long enough period of time we might end up as diamonds in the rough. It was meant to lighten the mood for Emma, but I was the only one who got the joke. Fiona laughed too but I could tell that she only did it out of solidarity, either that or she really was as docile as she looked.
Paul stepped out of the lift, looked around casually and remarked that he could smell fish. When the rest of us stared at him blankly he remarked that it must have been all the cod philosophy in the lift earlier. Phil laughed at that and Nat just nodded. Debbie stared Phil and Paul down. She didn’t say a word, but it was enough. She walked over to Emma and checked to see how she was doing. Then there was Steve
The room we were standing in didn’t make sense. The office building we had all entered was huge; a four storey block that was as wide as it was deep. This room was barely 30 foot by 30; the walls a dysentery brown with a pink frieze running in the middle; the CSC Logo stamped time and time again like a crude strip cartoon. We must have been in the middle of the office complex because the lifts were behind us. Those same lift doors suddenly closed leaving no trace of their existence. Steve walked up to the only remarkable feature in the room, the table.
There was a simple door bell randomly stuck on it, crudely glued with a single post-it note that had the words: “PrEss Me!” in erratic handwriting, scrawled using a blue biro almost close to running out. It looked like a four year old was learning how to write in cursive. Steve pressed the button.
Suddenly the lights went out and a video was projected onto one of the walls in front of us. A face we had only glimpsed in newsletters, and on the company intranet stared back at us. The brandy coloured background making the face of Dianne Bolus, the CEO of CSC, look almost oriental.
“Hello.” The voice chimed. “Here at CSC we believe that Escape Rooms are more than fright or flight. They can be a tool for pushing boundaries and understanding limits.” The acoustics of the room made her voice sound slurred, slightly robotic but what was even more bizarre was the way her eyes lined up with the frieze, making her eyes look quite demonic and maniacal. She continued as if aware of this. “Through cognitive mastery we can push people beyond what they thought possible. Through controlled stress we can understand people's breaking points and identify their vulnerabilities through social cohesion and erosion techniques. This would normally take years to take effect but using escape rooms we can affect rapid changes.” I looked around and saw people's expressions. Most were a mixture of trepidation and bemusement but Nat was nodding as if her life was depending on it; almost as if she expected Dianna to be watching everyone.
“The pressure stove,” the voice droned on, “ is the working title for today's exercise. You are all experts in your fields and at different stages of your development. Each of you know a different piece of the puzzle, though you may not know it. There are seven rooms to escape from. The data taken from today's exercise will help when we push this out to the corporate world. “Imagine: the office as escape room with team building the ultimate game. Each puzzle has to be solved in order to move on to the next room. This is the Orientation room and you have eight hours to reach the end point. The time starts when this message finishes. Good luck!”
The message stopped and the lights strobed for 10 seconds before flaring phosphorous white, blinding us all. When they dimmed enough we saw four doors; one in each corner of the room.
“Maybe we should split up?” Steve ventured.
1 - Orientation
“That’s a crap idea.” Paul snapped back. “You’ve obviously never seen any horror movies.”
“Of course, I have.”
“Well, maybe you should try all of the doors in turn. If you don’t come back from one then obviously that’s not the one to take.” Phil snidely stated.
“You first.” Debbie interjected. Phil whirled round and was about to say something when Nat stepped into the fray.
“We need to do this systematically. Take each door in turn, follow where it takes us.”
“And if it takes us to a trap-room then what?” I replied.
“What’s a trap room?” Fiona asked, obviously nervous.
“There aren’t any trap rooms.” Nat replied contemptuously, she was trying so desperately to maintain cohesion but totally ignored Fiona in the process. “Let’s just pick that door over there.” she said, pointing to the far right door. We all traipsed over and walked through. The corridor we walked into was pitch black and as soon as we had all entered we saw the light from the room behind become extinguished. The door had shut behind us.
“Fucking brilliant.” Paul snapped.
“Don’t say a word.” Nat snapped at me. “We just need to feel our way out, there has to be a way out.”
None of us had any spatial awareness but we managed to get out of the seemingly endless corridor… and found ourselves back in the same room again. We all looked at each other. I looked back to the corridor but there was no door there, just a blank wall. I shrugged and walked to the door opposite and stopped just before I got to the doorway. “You do realise that we have no real way of knowing this is the same room. You could all wait for me to walk round again but what if I don’t.. What if the door closes behind me and this WAS the right way out. We have to keep together.” This was irrefutable logic and everyone moved in behind me.
Once again the door closed behind us and we fumbled our way to the end of the tunnel to an exact replica of the room before. This time the lights seemed slightly dimmer and there was a faint smell of mildew, probably coming from the black corridors.
The door closed once more behind us and we chose the third door… With the same results. The fourth door led to the same conclusion; a room so familiar, slightly dimmer bulbs but with a dampness in the air. I looked around to see what was going on and noticed there was something wrong.
“Has anyone seen Steve?” We looked around with no luck.
“It’s not as if he could be hiding anywhere.” Emma observed.
“Maybe we lost him in one of the corridors.” Dido replied.
“Yeah, but which one?” Fiona remarked. “I mean when was the last time any of us did a head count?”
“A head count? What is this, primary school?” Phil snapped.
“Well, this was all about Orientation. I guess that Steve failed that exercise.” Paul observed, snidely. “Maybe we pick him up at the end.”
“Has anyone else noticed the door over there?” Dido said, almost as if she doubted her own eyes. Sure enough there was a door right in the far end of the office, roughly where the lift would have been. We all ran over to it and tried the handle. The door opened but there was just a wall behind.
“What the fuck?” Paul shouted. “This is crazy!”
“This is an escape room, did you really expect it to be easy?” Nat snapped back, despite herself. “What we need to do is stop making assumptions and search. There is a way out of here, but it's not going to be obvious.”
We all took the queue from her and searched every wall for clues. Fiona was more pragmatic and searched the door and then the table.
“What have you found, Fiona?” Emma asked.
“On the door looks like another place for the handle to go.. There’s a hole with four smaller drill holes… on the table there’s now a screwdriver…”
“Wow! Check out the peepers on Fiona!” Dido chimed. “That’s a great feat of observation. I would never have worked that out!”
“Give it a try then, Fi.” Nat pronounced. Fiona looked at me and winced. It was obvious she hated being called Fi, but now was not the time to make a song and dance of it. She picked up the slightly rusted screwdriver and tried undoing the screws on the door handle. The screwdriver slipped a couple of times and nicked her hand, drawing blood. Phil snatched it from her and took the door handle off and placed it over the newly found holes and screwed it into place. Miraculously it fit. We cheered despite ourselves and opened the door to another corridor which led down a slope to yet another room. This was progress at least.
2 - Collaboration
“So how did that actually work?” Fiona asked me, sucking her finger.
“It was something that we tried looking into for another project: it’s a double-acting, double hinged door which divides the space immediately behind the door with a wedge shaped partition wall, which after swinging one way blocks the other door! Fascinating stuff… Is your finger alright?”
“It tingles a bit, but it’s ok.” She replied. The corridor came out at a room which was an exact copy of the rooms above but it’s more dishevelled than the last. The lights were gloomier with a blueish tinge. There was more of a musty smell and some of the walls had a reddish tinge to them. The floor was dusty and you could see pronounced footprints in the dust. Again, there were no doors and no discernible way of getting out.
“Split up, search the walls.” Nat said and we just did as we were told. There was silence for a few minutes then a distinct click could be heard and magically a gap appeared in one of the walls. A vertical sliver appeared. Everyone ran over to the gap but it disappeared as soon as we reached it.
“Bloody strange.” Phil remarked. “Its more of a tease than you, Dido.”
“Fuck off, Phil.” Dido snapped back and stepped back. The click was heard again and the door opened a sliver more.
“Don’t move!” Nat shouted at Dido.
“It’s pressure sensitive….” Emma remarked and looked down at the floor. “Look! She’s standing right where those footsteps end!” And she drew the path in the air with her hand. Sure enough there was a distinct trail of footprints that went direct to where Dido was standing. There was another set and I went and stood on that last imprint. The door opened enough to see another light at the end of the tunnel. This was enough for Nat to take change one more time and she pushed against the door, hoping to circumvent the process.
To our shock and her horror the door pivoted against her weight and she fell forward. Yet there was only a void to meet her; no floor, just an open lift shaft and we heard her cries to the very bottom. Dido was about to move off her spot but I shouted for her to stay completely still. We might not get another shot at this. I searched the rest of the floor from where I stood and saw one more set of footprints and asked Emma to stand there. I could tell she was frightened but she did so anyway.The door opened fully and we were left with another decision; what would happen when we tried moving from the spot.
Debbie looked into the newly created doorway. “Somehow a floor has appeared on the corridor; it looks as if it’s folded down from the ceiling when all the pressure plates were occupied.”
“If you guys step into the corridor so you’re halfway down it the rest of us can try to make a run for it.” I explained, hoping I’d judged this correctly. “If I’m right then whoever is standing in the last position will act as a stabilising factor for the rest of us to run. We can then hold the doors for Emma to dash across.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Phil chided.
“What do you care? You’re safe anyway.” I snapped back.
“Good point… get your running shoes on, Emma.” He replied and winked. I could see Fiona and Dido snidely talk about him behind his back. No one liked him and he knew it.
The group all went into the corridor as asked and then it was our turn. Both Dido and I made a run for it at the same time and, sure enough, nothing happened. I could see the sweat run from Emma’s brow. It was now or never and I just nodded at her.
We backed away to give her space and I watched as she made a spirited dash for the doorway in front of her. Nothing else happened. She reached the doorway unscathed. Beaming she stepped into the corridor before the floor dropped beneath her before we could even blink. I couldn’t even get to her because another door slid down before I could even breathe, cutting off any chance to reach her again..
“Watch out!” Debbie shouted from the room directly at the end of the corridor. The door was slowly sliding shut and we barely made it in time.
3 - Assessment
We didn’t have a chance to mourn. The same room design as before; like a demented, colourblind designer. Darker room, weirder smell; a cloying denseness. Fiona was now scratching her hand and I took hold of it to look at it. It was inflamed and looked sorely red. She shrugged it off.
We looked around the room, and immediately saw the table in the middle as before except this time there were 6 square boxes, each with wires coming out the bottom leading to an unknown destination. We all walked to the table and scanned them. All were fixed firmly and finished in a mahogany effect. On the top were two holes and it was obvious that we had to put our hands inside.
I didn’t even think about the consequences, I was slowly understanding the warped logic behind these rooms and knew the only way we’d be able to get through was to face the challenges head on. I could see that everyone was scrutinising my every tic and inflexion. It was slow at first but I could feel my hands tingle as if something was scraping against my skin but it was just a persistent irritation.
Phil just shrugged and did the same, plunged his hands into the holes as did Dido and Debbie. I could tell something else was happening with their hands… Phil turned to look at me and asked if my hands were hurting at all. I shook my head and said it was just an irritation. Phil told me that it felt as if his fingers had pins and needles. Dido’s hands ached, muscle fatigue and she couldn’t figure it out. Debbie was wincing in pain, for her it was as if someone was jabbing hot needles into the tips of her fingers. My irritation was getting worse due to the length of time I’d been enduring it, god knows how Paul was going to feel. He was hesitating and I couldn’t blame him but he looked at me. I just grimaced. He nodded and put his hands in the holes in his box. He screamed within seconds. That left Fiona. Her hand was already hurting her and it was obvious she didn’t want to be in any more pain. I sympathised, I really did… but at the same time I knew how the others were feeling; and it was only going to get worse the longer she left it.
“For gods sake, just fucking do it!” Paul shouted. Seconds passed, but it felt like hours. Finally Fiona screamed and thrust her hands into her box. Immediately a door opened behind us and we were released from the boxes. There were no wounds anywhere on our hands. Phill launched himself at Fiona but I shoved him back.
“There’s going to be a reckoning for you.” He snapped at Fiona. “And you do that again, I’ll end you too.” He threatened me.
4 - Performance Review
There was no connecting corridor this time, just an identically imperfect room. The same soul numbing decor, the same depressing mildew scent as before, just more pungent. The wallpaper was streaked with a viscous liquid, like a smoking room after a heavy session. What was really going on here?
Fiona looked at her hands and then at me. I shrugged as there was nothing I could say. Her wound was definitely infected and the veins in her arms were turning black.
Debbie looked around. No one was surprised that there was no doorway, even the one behind us had shut tight. The floor was clean this time; no clues to be found there either. The wall was too high up to search and no one really wanted to touch the walls just in case they found out what was dripping down them.
“I wonder what’s going on?” Dido asked.
“What does it matter?” Phil tore into her.
“We’re being picked off one by one. That’s what’s fucking going on.” Paul retorted.
“But why?” Debbie insisted. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What’s the context?” I asked.
“I’m going to knock your fucking block off in a minute.” Paul chided.
“Try it and you’ll have the rest of us to deal with.” Debbie replied, sternly.
“If you weren’t a woman…”
“And if you were more of a man, Paul, we might not be in this position.”
“Look, this isn’t helping.” I stated. “I heard rumors, right? There might be more to this… The boss lady, Dianna Bolus herself, big chief CEO supposedly had a breakdown not so long ago, right? She went away for a while to… find herself? She came back and then formed this new wing of CSC….”
“Yeah.” Debbie agreed. “I heard something about that. There’s been rumors of a secret development for ages but it’s been very hush-hish. Then all of a sudden I get a letter saying I’ve been promoted to this new position to test this new vision of hers.”
“But what if there was no finding of self? What if she had an L Ron Hubbard moment on the road to Damascus?
“El Ray who?” Phil asked in a vindictive way.
“You need to read a book once in a while.” I responded. “Ones without pop up centrefolds.”
“You pretentious, jumped up arsehole. I’m going to crucify you in front of your bloody harem.” Phil started towards me, ready to fight. Something stopped him in his tracks, something that no one else could see. “Well strike a fucking light… it’s just opened!”
We all turned to see another door welcoming us onwards and this time Phil led the way, but not without barging past me as hard as he could.
5 - Leadership
The door barely gave us a chance to get into the room before it closed. Upon closing all the lights went out. Dido screamed whilst Fiona moaned in despondency. For once Paul and Phil mirrored what I was thinking. “For fucks sake, what now?!”
It was then I heard a hissing noise, as if a tannoy had been turned on. Was this going to be another stirring speech from our elusive and sadistic CEO? No, it was going to be far worse.
“There’s only going to be one way out of here… Only the strong can get out of here.” It was my voice, but it wasn’t me speaking. Somehow my voice had been sampled and was now being used. At the same time I could hear other voices slowly come into the mix: Dido, Debbie… even Nat’s voice was heard chiding us.
“The cut on yor hand is gods way of punishing you, Fiona…. You should have been looking out for Steve.”
“Paul and Phil are going to kill you if they can… You know that to be true… you have to get to them first…”
“Phil knows… Everyone one knows about you, Paul. Don’t try to hide it any longer, You think that by acting tough you can….”
“You’re not half the manager Nat was, Debbie. You’re not half the woman Nat was either. The reason you’re still single is that you’re far too masculine!”
All of the voices merged into a cacophony; swirling around our heads, infecting our minds. It was Phil who cried out first saying the words “Fuck no! Fuck NO! FUCK NO!” over and over until the lights suddenly blazed on again.
Phil turned round, raging. Saw me and I could see that he was indeed out to kill me. Luckily I was ready for him. I had been avoiding this all day but there was no way to back out of it. He ran at me full tilt, fist outstretched like a lance but there was no other awareness there. I just sidestepped and hit him hard on the side of his head, right behind the ear. I had to dissuade Paul from trying his luck as well. Phil fell down like a sack of grain and didn’t move. Debbie knelt down to feel his pulse.
“He’s dead..” She said as the door behind her slid open.
6 - Subjugation
Nobody wanted to move at first. I couldn’t reconcile what had happened. If I hadn’t knocked Phil down he would surely have killed me, certainly with Paul’s help but I never wanted him dead. Debbie walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
“You couldn’t have known; it’s not your fault. He attacked you.”
“What? He didn’t have to hit him like that!” Paul snarled, kneeling at Phil's prone body. “You could have tripped him, kicked him in the fucking nuts…”
“And what would you have done in the meantime?” Debbie snapped back, trying to defend me. I still couldn’t speak through the shock. “You were getting ready to knock the shit out of him as well…”
“Yeah, and I’m still going to!” Paul leapt at me, but I didn’t put up any defense. Maybe Paul was right. I felt like a rag doll in his hands. He had his hands on my throat and was dragging me out through the open door, Dido and Debbie trying to stop him. We found ourselves in a sloping stairwell; dowsed in emergency lighting. Paul was trying to push me over the metal banister but I was too heavy for him and the two girls were impeding his every move. Something in me finally snapped, the shock dissipated and I understood that Paul wouldn’t stop until both of us were dead. I stamped on the front of his ankle and scraped my foot down hard, forcing him to let go of me. He threw off Debbie and Dido easily and lunged at me one last time, but I managed to sidestep him, his momentum causing him to go over the metal railing down the central stairwell, smashing against the stairs as he did so. His ragdoll body finally splayed on the floor several stories below us.
I thanked Dido and Debbie for their help and brushed myself off. We then realised that we hadn’t seen Fiona during the fight. She was leaning against the closed door behind us and smiled weakly as blood dribbled out her nose. Her legs suddenly gave way and she slid down the door as if her strings had been cut. She had been suffering ever since she nicked her finger with the screwdriver… whatever was on that damned blade had infected her whole system. It was just myself, Debbie and Dido now. Three on the stairway to hell.
7 - Offboarding
We walked slowly. What else could we do? The dark crimson emergency lights disorientated us; there was now an ammonial stench to the air and the drip-drip-dripping noise came from everywhere. Debbie took my hand and Dido followed suit. Foul smelling water cascaded down the central stairwell like someone wringing out a sponge. The PA system sparked on again.
“I knew it would be you three that would be the last. You’re almost at the end now and soon you will have the revelation that was given to me; and you will finally understand…” The words reverberated around us, urging us on.
The floor became sticky, worse than any cinema but we knew it wasn't spilled drinks. With every step the inevitability grew; a crushing sense of deja vu that only true horror can bring about. One hears about having your whole life flash in front of your eyes in the seconds before you die but it's much worse than that. You realise with certainty that every step of your life has led you to this point and you finally understand the futility of a knowing and benevolent God.
We finally reached the bottom of the stairs. Paul’s body, limp and as useless in death as it had been in life, waited for us; one arm stuck out like a drunken signpost. Our gazes followed its direction and saw one lone light shining in the distance; a guiding beacon to the way out perhaps? We walked closer and could hear the familiar dripping noise but more pronounced. Dido tried turning back but Debbie and myself urged her on. There was nothing else for us; we couldn't turn back now even if we tried.
In front was a pool of liquid, a viscous, crimson dew-pond and kneeling at the far edge, staring at us, was the woman who had hired us all at the start of the day. Dianna Bolus, Chief Executive Officer of CSC, her hands cupped in the liquid, drinking from the pool like it was a magic spring. Her face beatific and horrific at the same time. She looked at us and smiled in recognition. “My children... my children returned to me… drink! Drink!" Behind her six shapes slowly manifested from the darkness; six impossible and incomprehensible silhouettes now sacrifices to this demonic deity. Dido sobbed as stepped closer, walking into the liquid before kneeling to become the corrupted Trinitarian immersion, to be baptised in the name of corruption, death and decay.
There was nothing I could do to stop her, and I could only watch when she finally joined Dianna on the other side. The embrace and kiss was devoid of all passion or warmth, it was a regurgitation of the corruption flowing through Dianna's veins. I groaned in helplessness, wanting so much to turn away but could only stare in disbelief when Debbie let her hand fall from mine. I tried taking it again but she was out of reach. She didn't even hesitate, needed no encouragement and embraced Dianna with a perverse passion I didn't think she possessed. Her demure, empathetic demeanor ravaged by this wanton desire; she had been taken to the very brink of sanity and too far beyond to ever come back. Both her and Dido stood behind Dianna as the rest of her brood came out into the light.
What else could I do? There was no way back for me. I had nothing on me to defend myself, no way to fight back. There could be no last minute rescue. I walked forward to receive my communion. The brood took a step towards me as I looked to Dianna only to see her shake her head slowly, the Duchenne smile slowly take hold of her entire face.
