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She remembers being cold. When she looks back in her mind, reaching through her memories until she’s at the very beginning, she remembers being cold.
She knows that it can’t actually be the beginning. The farthest back she can remember was only a few months ago, but for some reason, something prevented her from reaching any farther. She’d woken up that first day in a cold, dark cell with a pounding headache. She’d panicked at first, when she thought she was alone. The lack of memories was suffocating, leaving her scrambling for purchase as she reached for something, anything to latch onto. Her bed was blue. She had a small toilet and sink. There was a large icicle nearby that steadily dripped into a puddle on the black stone floor. There was a brown table in the middle of the room. There was a book on a shelf. The door had a window covered by iron bars. There was another locked door by the sink. In those first hours, she collected an overwhelming amount of information, in comparison to the emptiness she’d woken up to. She was spiraling, suffocating in her own mind, consumed by panic and the fear that she had been captured and abandoned, left alone again.
But then a small voice had called out from the cell beside her own, and suddenly she wasn’t alone. There were eight others that woke up slowly over the next several hours, calling out in confusion. The guards eventually came by to unlock their doors, and she began her new life.
***
One of the other prisoners kept a tally in the communal kitchen of exactly how many days they’d spent there, but Tina couldn’t be bothered to actually keep count. It didn’t matter, anyways. None of it did. Regardless of what they did, regardless of how many tallies were on the wall beside the fridge, nothing would change. Every day would be the same: wake up, eat, go to work, eat, sleep, and repeat. The same cycle, which honestly didn’t bother her all that much. She liked routine, and she liked the other prisoners.
On some days, she wondered what some of the others were fighting so hard for - if none of them could remember anything before waking up in their cells, why were they so desperate to leave? They had no idea what was waiting for them outside the prison. What if life was better here? They had no idea what they’d done to land them in prison, what if they deserved it? Tina couldn’t imagine herself doing anything worthy of a prison sentence, but then again, she had no memory. She especially couldn’t imagine people like Niki or German or Lenay doing anything horrible. Some of the others, she wasn’t so sure. But everyone was nice, and arguments between them were few and far between.
German and Lenay were interesting. Though they had no specific memories, their relationship was proof that at least they had a life before this. Tina watched them sometimes, watched them whisper and laugh together in a corner of the dining hall. They knew each other well, and watching them made her heart ache for something that she couldn’t quite remember. Those were the only moments she wondered, really wondered, what her life was like before this. Who she had left behind. She wondered if she too had someone that knew what she was going to say before she said it. Someone she would’ve talked to late into the night, like she sometimes heard German and Lenay doing from their cells.
There were times where she and the other prisoners would finish work in one of the buildings early, and they had a while before the guards came to escort them to the next one. She loved times like those, where they were able to talk and laugh, and get to know each other as best as they could with their limited memories. She learned that Rivers was exceptionally skilled in combat, and was able to beat any of the others in short-lived sparring matches before the guards came to stop them. She learned that Mouse was an excellent singer, and her voice would echo through the cellblock on particularly cold nights. Tubbo and Willy had a knack for getting into trouble and getting into places they shouldn’t, and had to be scolded by the guards every few days. Pol was clumsy and often needed medical attention, which Niki was very good at providing.
Tina loved collecting these small moments and bits of knowledge to store away, something bright to keep filling the dark, empty expanse of her mind. Something warm in her cold, damp cell. It was scary, sometimes, when she was laying in bed. Sometimes she felt like she was drowning, about to be swallowed up by the pitch-black darkness of her cell. Collecting these moments felt like small pieces of light, like lifelines. Like fireflies in the darkness, though she couldn’t remember how she knew what fireflies were.
The guards were nice, too. Even if they couldn’t speak. One guard in particular, one that blew bubbles to get their attention, had taken a liking to her, and would often slip her extra food in the evenings after they’d returned to their cells. She knew they had no way of speaking, but if they did, she thought her and this guard would be friends. He would sometimes sit and watch them talk and eat from a distance, just observing them. It was hard to tell without a face to read his expression, but Tina got the feeling that he wanted to join them. She had offered him a seat beside her and part of her food one time, and was immediately scolded by Tubbo saying there was no way for him to eat without a mouth. She’d felt extra bad then, cursing her inability to think things through before saying them. She’d covered her face in embarrassment and apologized profusely, but the guard only blew gentle bubbles in her direction and stayed where he was standing. She hadn’t attempted to invite him to join them since that incident, but she still felt sorry for him.
Deep down, she wondered if she’d maybe been in his position before. Alone on the outside of a group, worried that she wouldn’t be accepted. Of course, she had no real way of knowing. This was one of the times where she was glad she couldn’t remember.
As much as she loved learning about the others, sometimes their group discussions turned dark. There were a lot of things in their blurry past that hung heavily over them some days. There were some nights where she would be woken up to terrified screams coming from one of the other cells, and her heart ached at the fact that she couldn’t leave her cell to comfort them. She’d pleaded with the guards many times, but they gave no reaction.
One night, one that was seared into the dark recesses of her memory, she and Mouse stayed up until breakfast talking with Tubbo about anything and everything to calm him down after a nightmare. Even just the memory of his terrified screams made her skin prickle. He didn’t eat or speak a word for several days, and the guards had to drag him out of his cell to work the following morning. It was heartbreaking to see him like that, someone who was usually so bubbly and happy, drained of all signs of life. The guards eventually removed him from work, keeping him in what Tina presumed was the medical wing until the day after next. When he returned, he looked much better, and seemed to be back to normal.
The only problem, one that rattled around in the back of her mind as she tried to fall asleep, was that he couldn’t seem to remember anything about his stay in the medical wing.
He’d returned with a fresh wound on his arm, wrapped tightly in bandages that Niki removed and replaced. The wound was familiar to Tina, it was one that a few of the other prisoners had returned with after their visits there. She’d mostly dismissed the fact that they also didn’t remember anything about their visits, brushing it off as them likely being too ill and out of it. But Tina felt like she knew Tubbo. If he had a 48-hour gap in his recent memory, that was strange.
She tried to talk about it with Mouse one time, but two guards had stared them down and moved them all to the next work building earlier than usual. She normally wasn’t afraid of the guards, but in that moment, their featureless, expressionless white faces were horrifying. Which is why she just decided not to think too hard about it. It didn’t matter, anyways. None of it did.
If her memories were like fireflies in the darkness, then she chose to take those kinds of fireflies and hide them in a jar somewhere deep inside her mind. She was good at forgetting things that upset her. Something told her she’s done that before, whatever before was.
Recently, there seemed to be more guards than usual hovering around the prison. It made her nervous. She didn’t like change. It made her uneasy, it disturbed her carefully practiced routine that kept her together. The others whispered that something was surely about to happen, and Mouse seemed to agree. She’d snapped at the guards that morning, demanding that they be freed. Mouse got in those moods sometimes, where she was feeling especially unruly, and Tina wondered if the tension in the air had put her in an extra bad mood. She herself was beginning to stress, especially after the guards rounded them up for dinner far earlier than usual. She tried her best to eat, her stomach in knots, and the silence in the dining hall wasn’t helping. She wished they would just tell her what was going to happen, tell her if they would be taking people away, tell her if she would be left alone again-
After they ate, the guards told them to wait in their rooms. She talked with Mouse as they watched guards go back and forth in front of their doors, sitting on the floor to hear each other better through the wall. Her hands were colder than usual, the adrenaline pumping through her veins tying her stomach in knots. The steady drip of the icicle nearby, something that was usually so comforting, only made her more excruciatingly aware of the time ticking by. She was about to get up and start demanding answers from the guards herself, when-
“-Bubbles?” The guard had appeared in her doorway, the door shutting behind him, and immediately began motioning for her to get up. He was carrying something blue that he placed in the corner.
“Huh? Is Bubbles in there with you?” Mouse whispered, and Tina could barely hear her through the wall.
“Yeah,” She whispered back. “He’s- I think he’s trying to show me something.”
“Okay,” came the soft response, and then silence.
The guard continued to motion for her to stand and jump on the blue thing in the corner. “What are you trying to show me?” She asked, still in a whisper. She reminded herself it was ok, that she trusted Bubbles. That Bubbles had never hurt any of them. Taking a breath, she stood on shaky legs and cautiously made her way over. He motioned again for her to jump once she was in the corner, and she yelped in surprise when the motion teleported her upwards into a dark room.
“What- what’s this? Bubbles?” She called, but the guard didn’t follow her up. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that she was in a small room, with a chest on the floor that she knelt to open. Inside was a small object, with the words Level 1 Keycard inscribed on the side.
“A keycard?” She whispered, dread slowly filling her. Something was wrong. Something was about to happen.
“What? A keycard for what?” Mouse asked, somewhere below her.
“Oh, Mouse, you don’t understand,” She said, her eyes glued to the piece of plastic in her hands. “You don’t understand at all what’s happening.”
“It’s dark, I can’t see anything,” Mouse called, sounding a lot calmer than Tina felt. “Where are you? What if I dig to you?”
“Oh, um, no, don’t try to break anything, please,” She responded, thoughts still swirling through her head. Thoughts that whispered time’s up and it couldn’t stay the same forever . From below her, she could hear Mouse yelling different variations of “no cell can hold me” and “let me out”.
“What am I supposed to do?” She whispered. She decided to start with teleporting back to her room, where the guard was still standing. “Bubbles, what am I supposed to do?”
The guard simply stared at her, before motioning towards the scanner on the opposite wall. “Here?” She asked, carefully stepping forward. She held the card out, and something in the walls clicked. The door by her sink that was always locked swung open, and Bubbles gestured for her to enter. “Here? Are- are you sure?” She asked, and he nodded aggressively. “Okay.”
She stepped forward into the small, dark space. Before she could react, the door slammed shut behind her with a bang that made her jump.
“Bubbles?” She called, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. She tugged on the handle of the door, but it was locked. She was trapped.
“Bubbles, what’s going on?” She pleaded. She could see the guard through the door’s small window, standing right in front her. He was watching her, motionless. Part of her thought he almost looked sad.
“Bubbles, please,” She said again, yelping as the small room she was in began to shake and slowly ascend. An elevator. She was in an elevator. “Wait, Bubbles, no,” She cried, pounding the door with her fists. “Please don’t, I thought you were going to come with me, please-”
The guard slowly slid out of view as the elevator continued to ascend. “Bubbles?” She said weakly, resting her hands on the cold door. She was beginning to feel dizzy, and she stumbled to the ground.
“Please, don’t.”
But there was only darkness.
***
When she opened her eyes, her first thought was that she was cold. And wet. She coughed, gasping for breath, and raised her hands to wipe at her face. A loud bang sounded from somewhere above her, making her jolt.
“Hello?” She called cautiously, her voice cracking from disuse. “Is someone there?” She was loosely tied in place to a vertical stretcher that must have been keeping her upright, and she stepped out of the restraints as she regained feeling in her legs.
There was no answer, and adrenaline flooded her veins. “Hello?” She tried again, louder this time. Her voice echoed off the walls of her room, and she cringed. The last thing she remembered was passing out in the elevator, but that wasn’t where she was now. How long had she been asleep? Where was Mouse? Where was everyone else?
“Okay, yeah, this is fine,” She said, turning to take stock of her surroundings as she began to panic. She only had to step forward once before she was nearly face to face with a foggy floor-to-ceiling window. The walls in her tiny room were white, and from what she could see through the glass, the room outside was the same.
“Yeah, no, everything’s going to be ok,” She said, backing up against the far wall, her breath coming in rapid gasps as it set in that she was trapped once again. “I’m totally fine in this cage all by myself.” The wall was cold against her skin.
“Maybe there’s other people, maybe I just need to be louder.” She was shaking excessively, both from the cold and the spike in terrified adrenaline. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She’d barely said anything, and her voice was already beginning to hurt. “Hello?”
“Please don’t leave me here,” She said weakly, sliding to sit with her back against the wall.
“I guess that’s it then.” She was tired. She had no idea when she last ate, and the blinding white of the room was beginning to hurt her head. “Please,” She said, feeling a tear slip down her face. Another bang sounded from above, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to be alone again.”
She closed her eyes, and what was once suffocating darkness in her old cell was now a welcome comfort. The noises above her grew louder, but she didn’t have the strength to open her eyes.
It didn’t matter, anyways. None of it did.
***
“Is anyone there? Oh, they’re in here!”