Work Text:
Static
The first thing she hears as she awakens is static, the quiet yet overwhelming noise of fluorescent lights above her, then it's the piercing brightness from the lights, then the dull ache of every bone in her body, then the smell of musty air and finally the horrendous dry in her mouth.
Her memory flashes, she had gotten sprayed with some gas, there was gas everywhere, she couldn't breath—well she could but it wasn't getting her enough air—and everything went fuzzy before it went black.
Mary's eyes slowly adjust to the room around her, it was bright, empty and cold. It looked similar to a prison cell just larger and an odd shape. The crack of bones echo across the smooth painted brick walls as she stretches, cracking her shoulders, then her back, then her fingers.
There were windows, painted over, on one of the walls of the room, even cupping her hands around her eyes didn't let enough light through the paint to see out. There's a possibility, however that it's one way glass, though it seems too sloppily painted to be that.
It takes an agonising while and a lot of pacing for anything to happen, footsteps, approaching from behind the singular entrance to the room. Mary backs away into the furthest corner from the door, she had spent the last few hours of her life in a hell where any footsteps heard were immediate danger. It had felt like the worst nightmare ever but even if it was a dream she wasn't taking chances now she was somewhere she didn't recognise.
The door opens, a security guard. He's tall, well built and very stern looking.
"Thank you." Another man's voice comes from behind him, the security guard steps to the side to hold the door open as two people walk in. A awkward looking blonde man and a slightly shorter, very serious looking woman with hair that was a little ginger and a little blonde.
"Sit down please." She speaks with a European accent, German or Dutch by the sound of it.
Mary hesitantly makes her way very slowly to the desk in the centre of the room, taking a seat at one end while the two others take a seat on the other side, "Do you understand english?" The lady asks, placing a thin paper folder on the desk and sliding it to the man.
Mary nods.
"Okay, My name is Ms Eva Stratt, I am the head of the Backrooms Investigation Taskforce. This is Doctor Ryland Grace, our lead scientist." Stratt explains, her voice is monotone and accented, her face emotionless and serious, "We want to ask you some questions about the place you were just at. Is that okay?"
Mary doesn't respond, she didn't know whether to trust what was going on, their faces looked fine, no repeated features or odd looking clothing.
Stratt and Grace watch her closely, they watch her eyes scan their faces and the room repeatedly, her hands fidgeting softly. "Do you require an augmentative and alternative communication device?" She asks after a while of silence and Mary shakes her head.
"No, sorry." Mary replies softly, her voice crackly and dry.
"First question, What is your name?"
"Mary."
The scientist jots it down at the top of a sheet of paper he had taken out of the folder, looking back up to Mary once he finished writing her first name.
"Mary Kline." She finished and allowed Grace to write down her last name.
"Thank you Mary Kline. Could you tell us how you ended up where you did?" Grace asked, his eyes not making contact with Mary as he fidgets awkwardly with his pen, spinning it around his fingers repeatedly.
"Through a wall."
"Where would this wall be?"
"In a furniture store."
Stratt slides the folder back to herself and opens it, pulling out some pictures that Mary couldn't see from the angle she was at. Stratt searched through them and pulled out a picture of 'Cap'n Clark's Ottoman Empire', showing it to Mary, "Is this the store?"
Mary nodded.
"And what were you doing in the store?" Grace continued asking questions as Stratt put the picture back in the pile quietly before clasping her hands in front of her on the table.
Mary breathed heavily and looked around, the security guard had shut the door and was stood to the left of it now, watching everything, "I was looking for someone."
"Who?" Stratt asks, "I ask that you be more detailed with your responses, it'll take less time to get the information we need."
"I was looking for a patient of mine," she responds, "Where am I?"
Stratt looks away briefly from the desk, then back to Mary "I'm afraid we will be asking the Questions Ms Kline. Can you tell me the name of your patient?"
"Clark [redacted], I am his therapist. He owns the store."
Grace notes down each thing she says and Stratt searches through the images again, holding up a crappy quality photo of Clark, "Is this Clark?" Mary nods. The director places the image back and takes out a piece of blank paper, sliding it to Mary's side of the table, followed shortly by a small Ikea like pencil, "We would like you to draw a map of where you went, and for you to tell us any interesting information about the rooms you were in."
"Where am I now?"
"Please draw a map of where you went."
"Tell me where I am."
"Stratt is not allowed to tell you where we are." Grace interrupts, putting on a grumpy looking face over the rims of his glasses that didn't fit his soft features and cozy cardigan, the look would more fit the broodier woman next to him but Mary gives up asking.
"You are in our science facility, and will remain here until we believe we have gotten as much information about the backrooms from you as possible."
Grace shoots Stratt a look, asking with his eyes why she told her, Stratt doesn't communicate back.
"How did I get here?"
"You ran into some of our investigators near a forced entry point, you were sprayed with large amounts of Nitrous Gasses as a precaution. You were then taken out of the area and quarantined here until you regained consciousness."
"Stratt-"
"Can you tell us what happened before that?"
"There was this, thing, it was tall and looked like Clark except wrong, if he was taller and was," She took a very deep and shaky breath, her leg bounces nervously under the table as she forces herself to remember the past, "melting, his face was elongated and everything about it was wrong. It was chasing me through various areas that had- had random furniture, the furniture was all wrong as well. Everything was wrong!"
Mary gasped for breath, not breathing for the entire time she rambled, Stratt nods at her, "You're doing great."
"The furniture was all different sizes, and some was half way through solid walls, one room was full of couches and another had wind chimes on the ceiling but the ceiling was only just over a metre of the ground.." She pants, a tear running slowly down her face. Her hands jolt up to her head as she cups her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"You're doing amazingly. We will continue the questions later, we can have a break for a few minutes."