On the far side of the compound, where the isolated examination rooms were, Chase Brody sat at the little metal table situated in the center of the room. His eyes drifted from the camera propped up on a tripod in one corner of the room to the small camera mounted in the ceiling in the other corner. His only way of telling time was from the food they slipped to him through the metal slot. He couldn't recall how long he'd been here. It felt like months. He felt like a prisoner, and no one would tell him why. Although, he had his suspicions. He'd recognized a few orderlies when they'd first brought him into this room. They'd cared for his older twin brother, Jack, after his accident. They'd told him to play games with him in the hopes of bringing back his brain activity. The accident had been tough on him emotionally. Which inevitably put a strain on his marriage. He'd been so close to Jack growing up, but due to artistic differences they fell out of touch. Jack had always been the golden child. The hard worker. The 'mature' one. He'd always been... the black sheep. The screw up. The immature child. The one no one wanted around.

He just didn't understand how he'd gotten here or why. It had seemed unreal. It made him worry about Jack. Had something happened to him? The thought nearly crushed him, making his hands shake as he held them before his face. Jack was all he had left in the world. If he lost him... he just couldn't imagine it. Jack was a part of him. He was everything good about them. Forcing his depression from the front of his mind, he grew agitated with his present situation. Usually, the doctor came to harass him after lunch had been served. Yet, hours seemed to pass and nothing. He hated that he was actually looking forward to the bastard harassing him. It was the only thing that broke up the silence and tore him from thoughts he didn't want to think about. He hated being sober. It allowed his buried thoughts and feelings to torture him. He just wanted them to get this over with already. It made no sense why they kept him here. If it involved Jack's condition, why didn't they just say so.

Glaring up at the camera, he asked aloud with bored irritation. "Hello? Come on. Don't tell me you're giving me the silent treatment now. It was just getting fun." Brushing a stray tear from the corner of his eye, he stated aloud to the ceiling camera. "So... What? Am I just supposed to sit here and talk to myself?" Throwing sarcasm into his voice, he romanticized dryly in a tone of voice that Stacy had always used against him. "Oh Iris, you're so amazing. It's like only yesterday we used to talk. I miss you so much." The realization that he'd used her words as sarcasm brought a sour note to his mood. Lowering his voice, he anxiously rubbed his ring finger and grimly told the tripod camera. "It's probably just me though, right? Should we see other people?" A humorless huff escaped him, forcing him to fight back tears. He didn't bother to look at the door as the slot was yanked open. Letting a brief hint of daylight into the room as something was tossed in, before the slot was slammed shut again. Noticing the little tennis ball rolling across the floor, he got up and retrieved it. This was new.

Holding it up, his mood soured more when he bitterly snapped out to the ceiling camera. "What...? What do you want me to do with this? I'm not a dog." Heaving a sigh, he began to pace around the room. Was this another test? Was he missing something? He was sure that Jack could have figured it out. Stopping short, he fumbled with the ball in his restless hands. It held strangely comforting to have something familiar. Something with color. Something that reminded him of better times. Tugging at the fuzz on it, he asked the ceiling camera with weak playfulness that faded quickly into a pained statement. "Do you do this for all your guests? Or am I just special?" He wished that he was special. Dropping to sit on his uncomfortable cot, he sniffled as painful memories swirled within him. Was this his punishment? How much did they know about him? He wished Jack would wake up and find him. He needed him. As time crept on, he began to play with the ball as a means to numb himself. To mentally shut off.

However, despite numbing himself with a distraction. His body still held the tension and weight of his storming thoughts. As his restlessness grew, every throw he made caused the ball to bounce off the wall harder... and harder. The steady powerful rhythm practically in time with his heart and showcasing his steady fall into a repetitive madness. Growing frustrated with the ball, he threw it across the cot and let out a groan of disgust. Pulling off his hat, he covered the tripod camera's lens. Then sliding his bedpan into the only empty corner of the room with his foot, he dropped onto his knees. Curling himself up as much as he could to hide from the cameras, he took the moment to piss. It was humiliating and degrading. He'd sunk low in his time but never THIS low. Finishing up, he zipped up his jeans and peaked over his shoulder. Had the ceiling camera seen him? He couldn't tell. He guessed some sicko was getting their rocks off watching him.

Whirling around, he slammed his hands down on the table and waved to the ceiling camera as he snapped out with both embarrassment and unease. "I know you're watching. Hello? Anybody?" Swiftly moving to the tripod camera, he removed his hat and asked into the lens. "Hello? Anybody? Come on. I know you're watching me." Banging his finger on the blinking red light of the mounted camera, he stated up to the ceiling camera. "The lights on. I'll break your camera." Placing a hand on the mounted camera, he had every intension to do it, but at the last second, he stopped himself. He'd broken enough things in his life. He didn't feel like adding to it. The odds were that it would only make things worse. Putting his hat back on, he slumped down against the wall with a heavy sigh. He needed to think of a way to get their attention. He wanted to harass them and get some answers. But how? When an idea from a movie struck him, he straightened up and called out in a shaken voice. "Oh... Oh no! Help! Help! Ah, I've hurt myself! HELP!" He waited for footsteps or doors to open but was met with only more heartbreaking silence.

Shooting a dark glare at the cameras, he bowed his head and muttered out under his breath. "Fuck..." When the cement floor and wall became too hard and cold, he stiffly got up and paced a bit more. Shaking his head, he tried to push his dark thoughts away. When that didn't work, he tossed his hat onto the bed and dropped into the metal chair to openly fill the silence by expressing with dissatisfaction. "This is what you want, isn't it? Yeah. You guys watching. I know you're looking at me. Ya sick fucks." Glaring up at the ceiling camera, he felt a sickening feeling pool at the base of his stomach as he removed his sneakers. Was this how a caged animal at a zoo felt? A caged pet? He'd always admired the cameras being on him. He loved the attention and embraced social media far more than Jack ever had, but this was quickly changing his mind. He hadn't considered how little privacy he had always being... watched. Did this sicko have a foot fetish? He decided to keep his socks on just in case.

Abruptly getting up from his seat, he tossed his hat to the table and slipped into his uncomfortable cot. The blanket was smaller than him and scratchy, the springs hurt, but worst off all... it was too bright. Twisting in bed, he shouted up to the ceiling camera. "Can you at least turn off the lights?! How am I supposed to sleep? Can you turn off the lights!" A moment of relief hit him when the lights in the room shut off. Submerging him in complete darkness. Forcing out a thank you, he started to turn over to sleep, when the bright lights flared back on. Groaning, he pulled the scratchy blanket over his head to try and block out the lights, but the smell of the blanket was murderous to his nostrils. It smelled like a stall garage that had once held oil and paint. He didn't want to ask when they'd last been washed. Then whoever was watching him began flicking the lights on and off. The constant rhythmic clicking and buzzing almost drove him insane. Burying his head into his arms, he tried to think of anything else, but what his mind wanted him to think about wasn't helping. He wanted a drink. Needed it more than ever. This forced quitting and going cold turkey shit was for the birds!

Tossing his hands up in defeat, he yelled out in an exhausted voice. "Come on! This isn't funny! I'm trying to sleep!" The person didn't seem to care. Instead, they flicked the lights on and kept them on. Losing his temper, he flipped his blanket off and snatched up his hat to put it on. Then climbing up onto one of the metal chairs, he looked up at the ceiling camera and practically screamed out. "HEY! Look! When are you guys going to let me out of here?! All right? It's starting to get really boring! I answered all your questions! I told you everything I know! What more do you want from me?!" Panting, he stared at the ceiling camera before jumping down from the chair. Moving around to sit in his chair that faced the cameras, he dropped his head into his hands and couldn't keep himself from weeping. He was so tired and so lonely. He was starting to forget what the sun felt like on his skin. Was this to be his future? Was this what he deserved? Was he going to die in here? He felt like he was drowning in his thoughts and feelings that he couldn't suppress anymore.

Running his hands through his hair, he tried not to listen to the voices in his head, but they grew louder and louder. Refusing to be silenced. Until a single voice stood out from them. Lifting his head, he tried to listen closely to the soft whispering. Encouraging it to speak louder in case it wasn't a voice in his head by asking aloud. "Hello?" Sudden disgust washed through him when he thought it was Iris playing tricks on him, prompting him to snap out bitterly. "Is this some sort of sick joke?" All at once the other voices in his head disappeared as a distorted laugh filled his ears before a whispering voice pulsing with static began to speak to him. It made his skin crawl and brought back an overwhelming fear of it. The last time he'd heard it... The last time it spoke to him... He had to block it out! The distorted voice had him anxiously looking around the room as it whispered ominously. "You know we'd call you awful... Awful." Inhaling sharply, he pressed his hands over his face and began to whine out. "Oh no... No. No. No. Not this again. Please. Please. Please. Please!"

The distorted voice grew louder in his mind as it whispered in a clearer distorted tone. "Chase. I need you. Betray." Starting to rock in his chair, he started to plead louder to the strange voice. "Go away! Please! Leave me alone! Please. Please, go away!" The strange whispering voice didn't stop. Instead, it told him with a sinister tone to its whispering voice. "Chase. Chase. It's what they want. Do it. Do it." Unable to bare it anymore, he screamed out in desperation. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Growing mentally exhausted, he put his head down on the table and cried himself to sleep. He didn't know how long it had been when the door to his room finally opened, letting sunlight blind him as he looked up from the darkness of his crossed arms. Rubbing his red and tired eyes, he sat up as the doctor slipped into the seat across from him. He expected the doctor to answer him, but instead, the doctor began to scribble away on his clipboard. Resulting in Chase tapping his heel impatiently against the floor as he waited to unload his fowl mood onto him.

The doctor then cleared his throat and began to say aloud for the tripod camera situated in the corner. "The date is October twenty-first. Two thousand nineteen. We are interviewing Chase Brody once again." Bitterly, Chase told the doctor without any hint of likeability. "Welcome back. I thought you guys forgot about me or something." The doctor ignored his outburst, instead continuing to tell the tripod camera casually. "Mr. Brody has experienced elevated exposure levels since we last spoke. Levels in the room have also been increased." Tensing up, Chase glanced around at what the doctor could possibly mean by that before blurting out nervously. "Wait. What do you mean? I've just been sitting here. What have you guys exposed me too?!" Diverting from the question, the doctor relayed fast and offhandedly. "Mr. Brody there are powers in this world that would seek to harm individuals such as yourself that we are trying to protect you from." Frustrated with his attitude, Chase scoffed out. "Oh, Bullshit! You think you're doing all this to protect me?"

The doctor's face remained unreadable when he countered abruptly. "Believe me, Mr. Brody. We are. We are going to carry out the Hopkins assessment again." Rolling his eyes, Chase leaned back in his seat and huffed out disinterestedly. "Oh great." His lack of interest didn't stop the doctor from relaying aloud. "As before, please try to answer every question truthfully." Reluctantly, Chase gave the slightest of nods. Allowing the doctor to start. Lifting his clipboard, the doctor clicked his pen and began to ask. "Is your name Chase Brody?" Chase lifelessly answered with a 'yep', but deep inside he knew it wasn't entirely true. His last name wasn't 'Brody.' It was his middle name. He'd used just his first two names as a stage name for his channel. He'd done it to keep his videos from getting mixed with his brother's more successful channel. A choice he kind of regretted now. Yet, his relationship with Jack had never really been the best. A sad side effect of being a twin and wanting to be independent. To stand out from just being 'his brother's twin.' The 'Mcloughlin' name only made him feel like more of a failure.

The doctor checked a box, then asked. "Are you thirty-four years old?" The reminder left a sour taste in Chase's mouth, but he nodded and dryly answered. "Uh-huh." The doctor checked another box, then asked coolly. "Are you taking the Doctor Hopkins Assessment test right now?" Growing mentally bored, Chase waved his hand and blurted out over the doctor in a tired tone of voice. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Just ask the questions." The doctor paused, then asked curiously. "On a scale from one to ten. One being the lowest and ten being the highest. How would you describe your current mental state?" Not bothering to hide his tired aggression, he snapped back. "Well, I'm pretty pissed off right now. So, rock bottom." Without warning, a white flash blinded Chase, causing his heart to race and his body to tense up as he asked a little spooked. "What was that?" The doctor scribbled something down, then asked him. "Do you feel safe?" Chase opened his mouth, then jerked back against his chair as the doctor lunged toward him and yelled out menacingly out of character. "DO you feel safe?"

Fear crept up Chase's spine and he shook his head, timidly but honestly uttering out. "I... No." Blinking, the image of the doctor changed to reveal him still sitting calmly in his chair. The doctor scribbled some more, then asked him with curious narrow eyes. "Are you enjoying your time here?" Chase's mind started to cloud over, prompting him to stammer out indecisively. "Uh, ya... No." A second bright flash blinded Chase, causing him to jerk again and cover his eyes from the slight pain it induced. While the unphased doctor asked him neutrally. "How does this image make you feel?" He didn't see an image but said the first thing that came to his mind. "Very confused." The doctor's voice suddenly perked up into an interested one, when he asked with mild curiosity. "Do you know why you are here?" Shaking his head, Chase retorted with a wince of pain. "No. I keep asking YOU that." Setting down his clipboard, the doctor straightened up to ask him with less interest. "Are you comfortable?" Chase flinched as he swore the doctor leaned forward to ask him the same question again.

Shaking his head, he answered 'No', then jerked back again as another blinding flash made his eyes and head hurt. Again, the doctor didn't seem to notice as he asked coolly. "Do you have any experience with Alter 1-14-20-09?" Shaking his cloudy brain more, Chase weakly answered through his distress. "No. I keep telling you I... No." Without mercy, the doctor asked a bit forcefully now. "When was the first time you came into contact with Alter 1-14-20-09?" Raising his voice as the room around Chase seemed to sway, he snapped out angrily. "I HAVEN'T!" The doctor's tone then shifted to a calmer one as he asked a little jarringly. "Do you know why you are here?" Blinking, Chase rubbed his tired eyes and tried hard to focus when he asked for himself. "Wait...Didn't you already ask me that already?" The doctor didn't reply. Moving on to the next question, the doctor prodded him curiously. "Have you ever lost someone close to you?" The question felt like it came out of nowhere and punched him in the gut, causing his voice to break as said distantly. "Yes..."

The questions were coming faster now. Almost blurring together as the doctor asked him. "How many pictures have you been shown?" Shrugging, Chase leaned back in his seat and started to say one thing, when an answer randomly popped into his head, so he said that. "I don't know... four." The doctor then asked right after the other. "How sounds have you heard?" Taking a moment to listen, he shrugged out with slight confidence. "Two." The doctor then leaned forward a bit and asked him with a judgmental stare. "Do you regret your decisions?" Looking away with teary eyes, Chase choked out. "Yes." Only for the doctor to ask judgmentally. "Do you mean that?" Meeting the doctor's eyes with his frightened and confused ones, he asked a little put off and defensive. "What?" The doctor's sitting position blurred and changed to a relaxed pose, his voice calm and distant when he asked on. "Have you ever experienced a terrible occurrence that has impacted you significantly?"

Another flash blinded Chase, but this time he didn't flinch or feel any sharp pain in his head. This time, his heart ached with unbearable pain. Shifting uncomfortably, he shook his head. He didn't want to answer but found himself straining out. "No. I... yes..." Covering his eyes, he tried to fight back tears that were threatening to fall. While the doctor pressed out without concern. "Do you believe in life after death?" Chase's hands began to shake as he kept his hands over his eyes and answered firmly. "No." Something was wrong. He could feel it. It was like the world was spinning out of control. The doctor once forcefully asked him. "Have you ever experienced a terrible occurrence that has impacted you significantly?" There was another flash and pain seemed to wrap itself around Chase's heart. Squeezing tight and refusing to let go. Keeping his eyes covered, he stammered out shakily. "Stop." The doctor didn't. He dug in and asked the question on repeat over and over.

Chase's whole body trembled as the room spun fast and the flashing took on painful images. Images of his wife and kids. Images of a gravestone. Images of a dark shrouded figure in a red hallway. A flash of green. The doctor's question rang louder and louder until he was shouting in his ears, causing Chase to whine out in distress. "Stop asking..." Throwing his hands away from his face, Chase shouted out over all the voices of the doctor. "STOP!" The doctor jerked back in his seat with surprise, watching Chase with concern on his face. Taking a deep breath, Chase relaxed back in the seat trying to get his bearings. Everything was still and calm again. The doctor clicked his pen and began to write something down as he cautiously told the camera over his shoulder. "Subject's exposure has increased to concerning levels. Suggest moving to second phase. Pending board permission." Chase's whole body was trembling uncontrollably when he shuddered out. "What is this? What did you do to me? How long have I been here?"

Without answering the doctor collected himself and slipped from the room. Leaving Chase to plead out in a heartbroken voice as tears ran down his cheeks. "What did you do to me...?" Removing his hat to cover his face from the cameras, he sniffled and cried. Listening only to the soft clicking of the light on the tripod camera. To Be Continued...