I browse through the things Amy collected. There’s a pile of keys including two fobs. Maybe the electronics in the fobs could be used to make some sort of phone charger adapter, but I know I don’t have the skills to do something like that even with the proper tools. The Nokia wall wart might not even be powerful enough to charge my phone even with an adapter. One of the keychains has a tiny pocketknife on it and I remove that and put it in my hydration belt. The rest are probably useless. Another pile has a few more than a dozen wallets.

  Next to this is a stack of identification cards and a dog collar. Seventeen are American drivers’ licenses from various states. One is a Canadian license. There is also a Japanese passport. The expiration dates on the IDs ranged from nineteen seventy-four to two thousand twelve. Was Amy’s assessment that all of the others had died of starvation shortly after arriving correct? Maybe she was only referring to the first few she found. I thought about the sprinkler that had repaired itself within view of the doors to this room. It must have started leaking in the time since Amy died, or it would have reset during her explorations. Did she really explore? The piles of items recovered from bodies she found supports that she did. Logically, that means that all of the leaky sprinklers I have seen in the rooms must have been within a hundred rooms of a dead body. I remember passing many, many leaks.

  One collection of objects seems to just be odds and ends and office supplies. There are paperclips, rubber bands, binder clips, identification badges on clips and lanyards, two lighters, some matches, four empty packs of cigarettes, some pencils and pens, a roll of invisible tape, and some other useless items. I add the dead pen.

  There are a few piles of clothing on the counter. I pick up a baggy rolled up pair of sweatpants and an oversized Los Angeles Rams sweatshirt which look clean and comfortable. The style just seems old, but retro is always in and no one will see me anyway. I sniff the clothes to make sure they don’t have any odor; they do not stink. I put the sweatsuit on over my running outfit, and my legs soon feel warm for the first time in days. The sweatshirt is also much cozier than what I had been wearing before I got soaked. I have to roll up the sleeves a little and also the legs, but the previous owner was not that much taller than I am. I do need to tie the drawstring very tight to keep the pants from falling down. I feel comfortable now and don’t bother going through the rest of the clothing at this time.

  There is a pile of watches and jewelry. One of the watches has little calculator buttons on it, but the battery is completely dead. There is a Rolex, but it is a big, bulky men’s watch and what good does it do here to know the time? Next to that is a pile of tightly wound-up belts and a few gloves and hats.

  I see a purse I hadn’t noticed before and inside is a variety of make-up in different shades including eyeliner, lipstick, blush, lipliner, eyeshadow, powder, eyelash lengthener, and some other things as well as makeup remover. There are also a few chap sticks and four bandages.

  Eight more cell phones of various ages and a few charging wires are lined up on a makeshift carpet and drywall table. Three are Nokias like the one I already have. I will have to check if they have more messages or if their batteries will last for more than a few minutes. The charging wires don’t fit the old iPhone or my phone. The also don’t fit the other phones, except one that won’t turn on even after leaving it plugged in for a while.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  My situation has greatly improved. I have everything I need to survive indefinitely, assuming Amy’s decline was not associated with the water or smoothies. But what do I do now? With my basic needs met, I can sit down and consider my situation.

  What is the nature of this place? I don’t think this is an alternate reality, because I don’t think an infinite series of yellow rooms makes sense in any reality.

  Is it heaven, hell, purgatory or the afterlife of some other religion I don’t know anything about? None of those possibilities seem to match what I’ve found.

  Am I in a coma and this place is just a fevered coma dream? No. It’s very real. Everything is solid and consistent and seems to follow rules. The dead I’ve seen and the IDs I’ve looked through do not resemble anyone from my life or any memory I have. I can’t rule it out completely, but I think I’m really here.

  Could it be that what I think of as reality is really a virtual world and I am caught up in some sort of glitch in the matrix along with all the other people who’ve died here? Maybe. This doesn’t have the ring of truth to it, but then if I am a computer program living in a computer program world, what’s the point of the program? Wouldn’t it be monitored by its creators? Would knowing this is the case change anything? Maybe all of reality is really just in my mind. If true, these are irresolvable scenarios.

  Is this place magical? If you had magic, why would you make this?

  Is it technological, either secret government agency or alien experiment or something? Maybe, but to what end? A place like this with carpeting and lighting and a fire suppression system doesn’t just spontaneously come into existence. Whether it is a computer program or something constructed in a pocket universe or hyperspace or some sort of other reality, I think it was definitely made with intention. I try to think of any science fiction movies or series I’ve seen. I vaguely remember something where an artificial environment was created to keep someone’s mind active when they were in hibernation but if so, why would they create a place that drove people to suicide? I know I am not a criminal who would be put in a place like this as punishment.

  No matter what the situation is, the only thing I can do is try to escape. Amy tried staying put and exploring, but neither yielded any results. Maybe she didn’t stay long enough or explore far enough? Does this place have a caretaker? The same ideas come to mind, but I reject all of them. Could damaging the rooms enough alert some sort of monitor? That could be worth a try, but how do I damage an infinite self-repairing space enough for someone to notice? I could use bodies to keep it from resetting and somehow disconnect all of the sprinklers and light a fire, but after a hundred rooms, the fire would be contained. Would a body consumed by fire prevent a reset? The ashes might just be cleaned up. I could never smash enough on my own to make a difference in a place like this. Flooding? How do you flood an infinite space? The water level will never rise. Even if the space is not infinite, how do I survive the flooding and how long would it take? The water may just be pumped from the floors back into the sprinkler system. Could I knock out enough walls in an area to get the roof to collapse? I don’t know how I could knock out one and what’s above me? These same ideas have been running through my head for the past few days, leading me nowhere.

  I’m brought out of my unproductive reverie by a sound. I hear something wandering around nearby. The sound isn’t muffled by the carpets, which have been removed. I stay silent and listen. I hear a huffing sound.