I. Funny how true colours shine in darkness and in secrecy
The first thing he feels, upon waking up, is relief. There’s something, he thinks, that has been weighing him down. Something he no longer remembers. He's unsure, but it feels good. The second thing is that he’s a bit disoriented. doesn’t know where he is or…who he is really?
He cracks his eyes open to stare up at the bright squared panel ceiling, trying to recollect his thoughts as he glances furtively around the calm forest green carpeting when a static voice cuts through his processing.
“Hi there, you on the table! My name's Remus, I wonder if you’d mind taking a brief survey. Let me know when you’d like to begin.”
He jolts, sitting up so abruptly his neck begins to ache almost immediately. Is this some sort of prank? A sick joke someone’s playing on him?
“Who are you.” He gets off the table and tries the door, to no avail.
“My name's Remus L., I'm your orientation leader. Please let me know when you’d like to begin.” The voice in the speaker is calming, a strange accent, from outside of London he supposes. It snips away at his anxiety only by the slightest margin.
“What is this?” He calls back. Feeling around the white paneling for any other exit he might be missing, a fire alarm or the like.
“Question number 1. Who are you?”
He almost laughs, then pauses for a moment. He can’t remember. “What the actual fuck”
This time he tries ramming himself up against the door. Goes again with more force. Goes again, starts further back. He can feel it shudder under his weight. He grabs a chair and moves to go again.
“Please refrain from injuring the furniture! The door is locked for your safety. If you complete the survey we can continue from there! It’s okay if you do not know the answer, just say ‘I don’t know’.”
“Just 5 questions..?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then you’ll let me out?”
“Yes.”
“Okay fine.” he huffs, still standing in the corner of the room. out of breath from his failed attempt at breaking through the steel door in the center of the conference room of his apparent inception.
“Great! question 1, who are you?”
This hurts, he’s still disoriented and reeling in the loss of a name, his own name. It feels so close to him, something fettered and burning, like an open wound, a shooting star breaking through the unlit black sky. He answers slowly, “I don’t think I know.”
"Okay, Question 2. in what region or county were you born?”
He can feel the last of his resolve dredge out of himself, he’s British. It’s obvious, of course he knows the country he’s from. But where in the country…everything’s gone. His temples are throbbing. He wants to be out of here. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, Question 3. What is Mr. Black's favorite breakfast?”
“I don’t even know who that is, That makes no sense. I don’t know.”
“Right? question 4. Name any county.”
“Any?”
“Yes, First that comes to mind.”
“Fuck I...uh Devon.”
“Great! Last question, what is or was the color of your mothers eyes?”
His mothers name? his mother? He doesn’t remember her. He feels funny, “I’m not sure.”
"Unknown. So that’s unknown, unknown, unknown, Devon, unknown."
"What the hell did you do to me?"
"That's a perfect score."
The lock clicks on the door and suddenly it’s swinging open. In front of him is a tanned man, he has to look up at him to see his scarred face twisted underneath a smatter of warm freckles. He smiles gently and leans on the doorframe, hands clasped in front of him.
“Hi there, my name's Remus, as you already know.” His lips move into a sort of sheepish half smile, “And you are Sirius P.”
Sirius. Sirius. That fits, slots into his chest soft and sticky. Sirius. He looks into the room beyond Remus, it’s a small control room, lit up by the screen on the right side, a tv projecting the room he’s inside of next to a microphone. Remus has been right there the whole time.
Remus crowds into the room with Sirius, closing the door softly behind him. “Let me explain a few things, I know this must be very confusing for you. I remember when I first woke up on that table a few years ago too, a disembodied voice asked me 37 times who I was. Thought I’d finally lost it.” He hums, sitting down in one of the plush blue office chairs and sets down a large binder.
"And when I realized I couldn’t answer, I told that voice that I would find her and kill her. I don’t know why I said that. I mean, I was scared too."
"Did you kill the voice?"
"No. No, that voice's name was Marlene, and she became my best friend."
After a few seconds of silence and page flipping, Remus glances up at Sirius, almost as if he’d forgotten he was there. His lips bunch together in thought, and then he motions for Sirius to sit in the chair across from him.
Sirius does not move. Rooted to the position he’s been standing in by the door since it first opened on him in his confusion.
“Do I get to leave? Or am I being held captive here?”
Remus chuckles a bit, airy and soft, breathing into his sandy brown jumper. “No no, nothing like that. But it’d be best if you’d let me explain our company standards first, then we can go out together. You see, you have been hired to a position on the Severed Floor of Lumon Industries.”
Sirius thinks Remus looks kind, like an old friend, someone he'd spend years trying to get close to, or something he could fall in love with. If he’d met him under different circumstances, he thinks he’d be a reckless pool of lust, butter on the pan before it gets too hot.
Instead, he reaches across the table to rip the speaker out from its wires. And chucks it at Remus’s malleable, already marred face.