Subject Of Interest

Mystery of the green light

Subject Of Interest

And so, as is expected, there is much more to learn, to be explored, in light of what is known, regarding the tiny green pulsing light which emanates from a small hole in a wall situated on the lower southern corner of the otherwise nearly empty room. The hole is situated about eight inches above the wall.

The chamber itself is only eight feet by eight feet by eight feet in dimensions.

There is a man. We will have to refer to him as the subject of interest, since we do not know his name or much more than that as a matter of fact. A metallic toilet with matching sink next to it occupy the northern corner space of the room. There are no other features or items there. It is basically a cube made of metal, consisting of four walls, a floor, a ceiling, with no doors or windows.

The subject must have been placed there by an individual or individuals. They must have removed the door or entrance, replacing it with the solid wall after the fact, preventing him from leaving. That is pure speculation of course but it makes perfect sense. It turns out that the subject remembers nothing before coming to this strange place. He must have amnesia or gone through an ordeal or experienced some trauma which may have caused such a condition. In any event, his world has become a whole lot smaller.

The pulsing emerald green light floods the room with a constant annoying beaming and blinking on the eyes and mind. It alternates from a medium dim light brightness to total darkness with a hellish repetitiveness.  It is worth noting that when the light was between each pulse, there was an absolute blackness, being that the room was completely sealed from the outer world.  There was no way to stop the blinking or blocking it.  The subject could place a finger on the wall where the light originates but then he would be left in complete darkness. He suffered from fear of the dark so that was not an option. He also felt somewhat claustrophobic in this environment but he tried not to think about that too much.

It appears he had been there for some time. There was no real way of knowing since day and night were the same in his world and his memory was a mess. His sink was his source of water. There was a thin slit in the wall, approximately four inches just above the lighted hole, which dispensed a rectangular hardened food substance that tasted like chalk and salt. Apparently that is what was keeping him alive. It was some kind of toast or cracker that, once it was removed, the slit or panel in the wall would immediately, automatically, retract back seamlessly flush with the wall.

Over a period of time, the subject would not remove the food. He would wait to see what, if anything, would happen and wait some more to see if the thin tray would move. The pain of hunger would always win out and the game was over. He would grab for the morsel in a frantic passion and as expected, the thin tray retracted. It would return again after a period of time with a new cracker, a time which could not be determined or predicted for obvious reasons.

There were no discernible sounds of anyone or anything beyond the walls. He was afraid to speak or utter a single word, in fear that his captors would come in. Sound was the enemy. The fear of the unknown is a potent thing.

The subject only had on a pair of old worn out pants that were somewhat long, made of fabric, cotton or some other soft material. He had no shoes or shirt but he did have one sock. The color of the pants is unknown. At this point it does not matter.

One day, if there was or is such a thing, he tried to deduce the color of the walls and floor that surrounded him. Were they green? Were they gray? They could even be white for all he knew. Was it the blinking green of the light that gave the appearance of a green wall or was it simply an illusion of perception played on his sense of sight? The great illusion of time played tricks on him as well. Since he did not have much of a memory to begin with, it was hard to find things to even think about. He could not remember any past. He is living in a peculiar present and it is unknown what the future holds.

He did remember one small detail from his former life. He once owned a shirt with a row of buttons on it. He wished for any one of those buttons right now, to hold it in his hands, to feel it, to experience it. He thought of all the myriad of things he could do with it if only he had it in his possession. There would be hours of fun in store for it being rolled around the small chamber, bouncing it off the walls and floor. He would throw it to the ceiling and try to catch it the blinking twinkling twilight.

He had pockets in his pants so he could store it there or simply place it close by his side like a long lost friend. He could even put it in his mouth to warm it up, being careful not to swallow. He was forever hungry so he had to be mindful of his fragile condition.

There was one point in his captivity, many years later down the line, where he heard the voices of two men speaking as clear as day. They were actually talking about him. There was a discussion on whether they should reconstruct a door on his confined quarters and release him since they had no further use or interest in him. Shortly after that there was a profound explosion. The voices had ceased for good. Who would care for him now?

As was stated from the start, “And so, as is expected, there is much more to learn, to be explored, in light of what is known, regarding the tiny green pulsing light which emanates from a small hole in a wall situated on the lower southern corner of the otherwise nearly empty room.”

There once was a time when he was the subject of interest. Those days are gone. It is only the light now that continues on.