You open your eyes to numb limbs and your knees pressed up to your chest.

The air is stale, and a musty smell lingers in the enclosed space. Your head throbs with a dull ache, and you have no memory of how you ended up hereAs your eyes adjust to the dim light, you begin to take in your surroundings. The walls are a deep shade of green, making the room feel even smaller and more oppressive. There are no windows, not even a door in this enclosed box, and the only source of illumination comes from a soft green light underneath your chin.

Your attention then shifts to your left hand, which is connected to the ceiling by a single cable. The cable is taut, and it restricts your movement, preventing you from moving beyond standing to your feet. You pull at it, but it seems impossibly secure. Now that you've stood to your aching feet, the cable connected to your cuff doesn't give- your hand is stuck in place, raised towards your neck.Experimentally, you press your hand to your neck and feel the unfamiliar touch of cold metal electronics. Your eyes venture lower, and you can see the soft illumination of green light emit from an LED panel at the front of your collar. The metal band feels thick between your fingers, and as your hands venture around your neck to feel for any release, your fingers brush over the bumps of a mechanism pressed firmly against your jugular.

You take a deep breath through your nose and your mind locks onto a familiar sulfuric smell. Although your mind feels blank from information you can't recall no matter how you attempt to jog your memory- your instincts kick in.There is a smell of gunpowder choking the air of the room. You squeeze your eyes shut once more and try to focus on where the smell is coming from. You open your eyes. When you realize the small compartment pressing against your neck is filled with black powder. You press your fingers against the mechanism once more and you feel a pin pressed into the small box.The pin lays flush against the metal casing on your collar, and the click of the metal when you toy with the moving parts confirms your suspicions- there is a firing mechanism pressed to your jugular held in place by your glowing collar.

Panic starts to set in as you become aware of your situation. Your hands instinctively clench around your neck. The cold metal presses against your skin, and you can feel the weight of the weapons encircling your throat. It's a gruesome feeling, leaving you helpless in the face of your unpredictable fate.A sense of dread washes over you, quick and suffocating.You're trapped in this box, no clear way out, with no memory of how you got here, and a gruesome collar decorated with gunpowder threatening your every move.Your heart races as you desperately search for clues, hoping to unravel the mystery and find a way out of this horrifying ordeal.

You shake the numbness from your foot when you feel the leather of your shoe make contact with hard plastic. You hear the sound of scraping platic against the tile floor. Your eyes look down to see the contents of the floor- a tape recorder.You lean to bend down, but your hand stays in place, unmoving by the taut line keeping it in place. You aren't getting access to that tape without some clever thinking, it seems.With your heart pounding, you manage to use your foot to maneuver the tape recorder into your free hand. Adrenaline surges through your veins.Whoever left you the tape did you a favor of rewinding it for you- it would be a near impossible feat were you left to reverse with one hand.You click your thumb against the play button, and a voice kicks up on the other side.

Retrieval failures can also occur because other memories are blocking or getting in the way of recalling the desired memory. This blocking is referred to as interference. For example, you may fail to remember the name of a town you visited with your family on summer vacation because the names of other towns you visited on that trip or on other trips come to mind instead. Those memories then prevent the desired memory from being retrieved. Interference is also relevant to the example of forgetting a password: passwords that we have used for other websites may come to mind and interfere with our ability to retrieve the desired password.Interference can be either proactive, in which old memories block the learning of new related memories, or retroactive, in which new memories block the retrieval of old related memories. Your memory for a town you visited on vacation is unlikely to interfere with your ability to remember an Internet password, but it is likely to interfere with your ability to remember a different town’s name. Competition between memories can also lead to forgetting in a different way. Recalling a desired memory in the face of competition may result in the inhibition of related, competing memories-

Whoever left the tape clearly didn't rewind it the whole way- half of the information was missing.You look around the room once more- this tape is the only clue left by your captor as to how you might have ended up in this situation.The tape recorder, filled with extensive information about the effects of memory recollection & interference, is out of place. Something about it is strange.Something about the tape may tell you how to survive your current situation- or, if you're lucky, how you might be able to escape it.

• Rewind The Tape

• Press Play Again
• Record Over The Tape
• Smash It

CHOICE MADE: 09 / 17 / 2023

With a mix of curiosity and desperation, you decide to replay the message on the tape recorder, hoping that there might be some hidden clue or information that you missed the first time while listening to the tape. As you press the replay button, the tape recorder emits a familiar whirring sound, and the unfamiliar, smooth voice begins to play again.As the voice on the tape recorder reaches the point where you don't recognize the words being spoken, it's too late to react.

A sudden jolt of force slams your wrist against the ceiling, and a searing pain shoots through your arm and into your core as your hand is forcefully wrenched from the metal cuff that had kept you restrained.The pain is unlike anything you have experience before.You let out a cry of agony as your broken hand is released, and you cradle it against your chest, feeling the excruciating pain shoot through your nerves.

Your free hand moves to grasp at your wrist- your skin is on fire, your breathing is shallow, and there's a deep recess where your wrist met your arm. You weren't a doctor, but the gap between your hand and your forearm told you the horrifying truth- your wrist joint had been completely disconnected from your radius. There was nothing to hold your arm in place but shredded sinew and elastic skin.Confusion and panic rush over you as you try to make sense of what just occurred. It's as if the room itself is reacting to your actions, and you can't help but wonder if replaying the tape was the trigger for this unexpected release.With your hand now free, you have newfound mobility, but you're also acutely aware that you're still trapped in this ominous room with more questions than answers. You cautiously examine your surroundings, trying to decide on your next course of action, mindful of the perilous situation you find yourself in.The collar of explosives around your neck remains, a grim reminder of the danger that still surrounds you.

As you sit there, cradling your newly freed hand in pain, the room suddenly undergoes a startling transformation. A hidden door, previously concealed from your view, swings open, revealing a figure staggering into the room.A man with deep sunken eyes and pale clammy skin meets you face to face. His expression is unreadable, but you recognize the hostility in his narrow blue eyes.

Your eyes lock and another sudden event overwhelms your senses, your vision flashes white suddenly you're not in your own body. Your limbs feel foreign as if moving on their own. You are no longer in control of your own being.
Instead a surrogate to the horrifying experience of the figure who had been in front of you no more than a moment ago.

Shattered glass is pressed firmly in his palms. You watch the blood drip from the gashes in his hands and pool below him. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself for impact.The glass is raised above his head. Adrenaline builds pressure behind his eyes. He grits his teeth and blood forms at the corner of his mouth. The glass pierces his stomach with a sickening squelch. You feel a voice tear through your throat, one that isn't your own.

The vision fades from your mind, and you return to the reality. You feel the sensation in his stomach as if it were your own- the stinging burn of lacerated flesh and muscle brings bile to your throat. You choke down acrimony as you steady yourself as best as you can against the dark walls of your enclosure.The words almost die on your throat as you speak them, but your voice breaks through the fog. You can hear your own voice ringing in your ears.

...Did you know first aid? You weren't entirely sure.

• Join Forces with Stranger

• Wait for him to turn around
• deny his help
• kick him & run

EXPLORATION

You open the door.The first thing you notice is the layout of the room in front of you is divided into 5 sections, each section separated by tall wooden walls fitted with rusted over mesh.A single light obscured by the farthest wall illuminates the room, covering the room in dim green light.You bend your knees and crouch to the ground while moving towards the far end of the room. As your finger tips brush against the dark concrete tiles below you, your blue haired companion lets out a painful cry as the weight of his body hits the ground.He coughs, and in the green light, you can see the reflection of dark viscera pool around his mouth. His breathing was heavy and uneven, and you could see the sweat cling to his skin.His eyes were sunken and hazy.By your estimations- he didn't have long left.

You aren't exactly in the position to help lift him to his feet with your dislocated wrist, but you thread your arm under his shoulder and support his weight anyway.You can see the dark blood staining his white dress shirt collar as it continues to leak from his mouth. His hand is still clenched to his stomach, holding on for dear life as he attempts to hold his guts inside of his stomach cavity.A voice called from the far wall near the light.

It had to be another trap. But your companion was in no condition to participate in another one.

You gently place him down on the ground, propped up against one of the wooden walls, and give one look over him once more before running towards the far back wall. You passed the wire mesh wall shadowing the voice from your view and looked down a long hallway. There was a white line drawn onto the floor at the threshold of the wooden box.Out of all the traps you expected- it wasn't a figure strapped to a large wheel towering over you in height.

Fucking clowns. You hated clowns. The last thing you wanted to see was clowns.

Okay- message loud and clear. You take a step forward towards the white line.The toe of your boot is about to touch the line when you hear the sound of a motor roaring to life in the distance. That could not be good.You break from your movement long enough to spot a sign to your right-No customers are allowed in the throwing arena.You weren't sure of the rules of this game, but one thing was certain- if you don't follow the rules, you're going to end up with another broken wrist. Or worse.

The wheel spun to life. The figure's muffled screams pierce your ears and fill your mind with urgency.Frozen in place, you realize that you're faced with a deadly dilemma. You can't directly approach the figure strapped to the target without risking your own life. But you weren't sure how long a person could survive being thrown around that quickly.You exchange a quick, desperate glance with the blue-haired man who accompanied you into the room. It's clear that you both need to put your heads together to come up with a solution that doesn't involve crossing that forbidden line.There has to be another solution- you need to find one.

You hold your wrist in place as you run around the throwing range. There had to be something, anything, to assist in the figure's survival.The first thing that catches your eye is an electical panel pushed back between the walls of the throwing range and the walls of the room. Without thinking, you press your shoulder into the hole to shimmy your way to the end of the contraption-You feel sandpaper rip into your back.The wall was lined with sandpaper- to make your way to the electrical box was possible, but it was near suicide.There had to be something else. Something in your gut told you that there was another option.

He weakly opens his eyes.

Maybe if you study the mechanism, the nature of the trap will reveal itself to you.You run back to the white line and stare at the spinning device once more. The figure strapped to the spinning wheel was growing paler by the moment- he didn't have much longer, either.How you found yourself as the caretaker of two strangers, you weren't sure.You lock eyes with the pleading figure, desperation growing in your chest as you rack your brain for what might help you out in this situation-And then it happens again.

You're in a mesh cage, not unlike the one that you stand in currently. Something heavy is grasped in your palm and held over your head. You recognized the dark green hair of the figure currently spinning to his death- you were in his body once again.You turn to check your surroundings- you're at a throwing range. To your side stands a girl with light green hair. She has a smile on your face as you raise the axe over your hair and split the distressed wood of the target in front of you.

Your vision fades back to normalcy. You are in your own body once more, holding control over your limbs.You were in a throwing range!You sprint to the other throwing stalls in the range room, desperately searching for any throwable object. You had a feeling on how you might be able to solve this after all.In one of the stalls, alongside the walls, was a row of rusted and dull hatchets.They would work perfectly.You grab one of the hatchets with your right hand and rush back to the spinning wheel- it's captured victim was losing consciousness.You had no time to waste- you held the hatchet over your head.

If you couldn't cross the line to free them from their restraints- you could do it from a distance. If your aim was good enough.You closed your eyes and focused on that vision- that memory. You move your arm behind your head, feeling its position weigh in your hands.

You tilt your blade downward along your shoulders, trying to imagine its arc in your hands. You have to angle this just right.Before you can overthink it, you release the axe from your fingertips. You close your eyes, afraid of the impact.

You open your eyes in anticipation.Their arm falls free from severed restraints. You were able to sever the leather binding them to the machine.Next move- you look at the rest of your surroundings.That's when you see it- at the top of the circle, a lever with a red handle sits.

You watch as he tilts his head to confirm the placement of the lever.The circle travels around a few more times before the figure is able to raise his free hand and grab onto the lever, using the momentum of the spinning wheel to pull it as he spins.The motor connected to the wheel stops.

The figure is able to free themselves from their restraints.They drop to the ground, shaking and wavering to their feet. You can tell that the world is still spinning for them. They're disoriented.You place your good hand on their shoulder to steady them in place.

Your...name?

You...don't know. You try to recover the information- it feels as if there's a door closed in your mind. In fact, as you dig deeper, you realize- there's no part of you that remembers the person you are. Who you used to be.But you aren't sure if you can trust your new companions yet- the truth of your situation has yet to be revealed.
But they are expecting an answer.

• TELL THEM THE TRUTH

• Stay Silent
• Refuse to Answer
• Come Up With Something