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Hypotheticals don't really happen, unless you're trying to lie or tell someone about whatever 'hypothetical' you created. Worse case scenarios are also similar, or at least similar to them, rarely happening. Sasha didn't know who would have even thought of her 'worst case scenario' though. Was this even one of those?
She was... in a situation. A... confusing one. Is safety possible? Maybe. The guy, Michael, was it? She remembered him- It. Yes? She shouldn't worry about that, really, not right now. Not when she can feel the rest of her clothes getting more soggy. The liquid wasn't dangerous. It didn't do anything. Hell, it was barely there. It was a puddle at best. This whole area? Maybe that's what you could call it, felt more artificially made rather than organic. That was way more confusing than anything else.
What happened in the last few moments?
Sasha adjusted herself as her mind rattled off the events that came before this. Going down to the tunnels, yup. Remember that. Remember- what was she doing? Why was she down there? The worms. The attack. Safety. She was trying to protect herself from the worms. Right. Then- then, something was following, not just there. Just eating away at her in the back of her mind. The sense of dread crept in at that point. A door- Yellow. It was way off in the setting. She ran and turned the knob. Then a hand grabbed her. Oh, that hand, a very wrong hand, pulled her through the door. She didn't remember herself even pushing it open. Then she was in those... Hallways. Alone. She didn't even get to see the guy who dragged her in. Then she wondered. Wondered for hours, it seemed, or it felt. Days or minutes, she couldn't tell. Wait, how did she end up here, though? She yelled for someone and-
"Stop moving..."
The voice paused Sasha's thinking. It sounded more detached than anything, like it itself didn't want to really do this. That was...weird to even think about. The thought of it just having to do this was a strange thing.
"Nothing? Hm. How sad."
Sarcasm? She couldn't tell. She couldn't really tell anything right now. Everything happened so... fast, and she couldn't catch up. She didn't notice her heart pounding in her chest.
'Michael' didn't say anything. It seemed to be waiting. For what? Gosh, who knows? Yet when nothing happened, it continued to stroll somewhere. Sasha assumed it was moving. She assumed a lot of things in this moment that she found herself jammed in. How could she figure it out inside something that she had only met once?
"I've," it spoke, "Never done something like... this. So, don't make me regret it."
"Why...?"
The slight movement around her stopped. It must have paused in its tracks. In shock? In amusement? Well, Sasha can't exactly see the other's face.
"Uh-"
"I wanted to see what would happen. You could have died, yet that seemed so boring. So repetitive."
Wanted to see what happens. Right. Okay. That didn't really bring any relief to the poor assistant. It made her more confused.
"Why.. this?" She tried asking.
It gave a hum. "That's a question. Yes. You don't need the answer. No. Know don't bother asking silly questions about the length of time which you'll be in... there." She could feel the slight pressure of something rubbing against her head. The wall was wet, yet it transferred no liquid. Sasha shuddered at this.
"Tch, don't be like that. You'll be... alive. I think." Sasha's face dropped into a frown. So, not even a guaranteed survival rate. How lovely. How fun for her.
-
It had been a while. Days- maybe months. Everything blurred together into some strange pile of mush that no one could see out of. The walls moved somewhat to keep the assistant somewhat stimulated. She'd resorted to counting the seconds in between each movement, or noting how the body she was shoved into contorted or shifted. It usually crammed her for a second on both sides. At least it was something. It was better than whatever death awaited her, right?
It- Michael. That. It never really spoke to her. She heard some bits of conversation that made no sense. She didn't even try to understand. Her mind was more focused on not going insane by the quiet laughs in the background.
Ten all the movement stopped. She couldn't tell what day she was on, if it had been days. All Sasha knew was that the stimulation stopped. What the hell...
"Archivist."
That voice grated Jon's ears. His hands clenched oh so slightly at the noise. He knew who was- what was there. He heard it open that bloody door.
"I have something you might want, Archivist."
"Okay, yes, just-" He took a deep breath, "Just get on with it."
"Oh, so trusting. What if-"
He could not deal with this back and forth today. Jon cut off the thing standing near his desk. "As I said, just get on with it. Please."
Michael looked a bit disappointed, but that dissolved quickly.
The sound that followed was... disgusting. Disgusting isn't the right word, but it's close enough. It sounded fleshy and wet, like if your hand crushed rotten watermelon, or squeezing a sack of meat. Jon's face cringed at the sound that was currently assaulting his ears. He didn't focus on what Michael was doing.
"Lord. What the hell, Mich-"
Was that Sasha?
Michael stood up back to his full height, gesturing to the woman who seemed to be Sasha. It wiped its mouth with the hand that wasn't busy. It could produce some sort of saliva?
"Take it as a gift."
"She's been missing for- for months by now. How did you- what did you...?"
"Oh," It said plainly. It didn't care, clearly, "I didn't even notice the time. How forgetful of me. I'm truly sorry."
"Like hell you ar-"
It was Michael's turn cut Jon off now. "Well, anywho. I've given my little gift. Archivist, you now..." it paused. "Owe me one."
The door closed.
Jon turned his focus to Sasha, sliding down to her height currently. She had seen better days, clearly. "Are you..." He mumbled, not completely finishing the sentence.
She gave a weak sound. Thank God, she was alive. She was still alive after whatever the hell had happened.
"Could I get," she licked her chapped lips. Her voice sounded dry, "A drink, please?"