Elliot was still standing.But not in his apartment.
The walls were wrong. Too tall. Too narrow. The ceiling seemed to pulse, as though breathing.
He staggered back, heart hammering.
“What the hell—”
The radio sat in front of him, now embedded into a long metal desk. Around him stretched a broadcasting studio… or something trying to imitate one.
Dust coated everything, but not evenly. Some areas looked untouched, pristine. Others were decayed beyond reason.
A red light flicked on above a door.
ON AIR
The voice crackled again.
“You’re live.”
Elliot spun around. “Who is this? Where am I?”
No answer.
Instead, another voice joined.
Then another.
Dozens.
Layered whispers overlapping, rising into a suffocating chorus.
“They’re listening.”
“Don’t say the wrong thing.”
“They hate mistakes.”
The microphone in front of Elliot slid closer on its own.
His throat tightened.
“I’m not doing this.”
The door behind him slammed shut.
The red light brightened.
The whispers stopped instantly.
Silence.
Then a single instruction:
“Introduce yourself.”
Elliot backed away. “No.”
The lights flickered violently.
The walls pulsed again—faster now.
“Introduce. Yourself.”
The pressure in the room built, like the air itself was compressing his lungs.
“I’m Elliot,” he gasped.
The pressure eased.
“Good.”
The voice sounded… pleased.
“Now begin.”
Source: Some or all of the content was generated using an AI language model
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