Murder Yours Truly

Connect

I hopped over to close the closet door, slammed it shut, and sat down on the cold, black metal shelves beneath the pole. Emergency call? I wonder if that would even work.. My throat felt clogged. I slid the lock screen over to where the emergency call would be... but nothing happened. It popped right back to the time and the day as if the option was never available. Maybe it wasn't an option. That'd be too easy, far too easy, wouldn't it? I slouched in disappointment. I pushed the home button and expected an 'enter password' screen to pop up. 

It unlocked. Brightening from the black background and turned to a web screen.. What? My eyes widened slightly. I tried again. I tried to get to the home screen but there was virtually no way of getting off of this eBay-like sight. There wasn't even a way to look at anything other than what was immediately available.

    I turned it off after getting frustrated with myself. The closest form of escape was gone. In reality, it was never there, but I psyched myself up so far that it hurt when I fell back down. I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Another note? I guess it was hidden underneath the tablet and, in my rush to escape, I missed it. "This is a tablet is for you to order cloths from our own warehouse." It's a different handwriting this time. It seems sloppy and hardly thought through. (There's a few misspells and not one apostrophe anywhere, but I'll clean it up for the sake of anything.) "It's all new, don't worry about that. Ol' boss doesn't want me talking to you.. Don't tell him but I'm not scared of that kid." At the bottom was this, "This has been your friendly eye in the sky, Zachary." and then a fully shaded, smiling camera. The lines were really accurate but there was a clear smiley face in the center of the lens. It was cute. So his names Zack?

    I explored what little there was to explore in this house-like cell. The one door leading out was solid metal. It looked like it could've been electric like a fence. I didn't bother touching it for that reason only. Also, he knew me waking up before he returned was a possibility, so he left a note. He would've at least made sure the door was locked on his way out, too. It was obvious. Why bother checking if it'll just bring me down a few notches again?

    So, instead, I decided to go sit on the couch and see if I could do anything with the T.V. There were offline story-based games by the hundreds. All stacked up in two massive library-like shelves that leaned out in the corner, out of view from the dining table.

    I opened the sliding door and closed it behind me.