Walking over to the corner of the room, you find two glass boxes filled with what looks like razor wire. Bending down you shine the flashlight into the first box, trying to see through all of the wire and spotting something in the back of it. Craning your neck you eventually are able to make out a key at the back of the box. A quick study of the other box reveals a syringe at the end of it.

That sick feeling in your stomach is back, making bile rise up inside your throat. Sticking your hand inside either box is going to be extremely painful. A thought slides into your mind that it may be for the best if you just go for the syringe. Dying doesn't really concern you if you're completely honest with yourself. You've been gambling with your own life for a decade now. Clinging on to another year or two of prostitution, robbery, and drugs seems so pointless. Maybe one last high and dying here in this room surrounded by pictures and candles wouldn't be so bad? It certainly would be a kinder death than what may await you out on the streets or an overdose.

But, life is life. Maybe if you make it out of this place you can hang on for another few years. You're past the point of telling yourself that you will check into a rehab somewhere. You won't do it and you don't care to lie to yourself anymore. But a few more years of life sounds less scary than being entombed in this place forever.

You reach For The Key

You reach into the box with the key, balling your hand into a fist to keep your fingers from getting snagged in the maze of razor wires. Gritting your teeth, you slowly push toward the back of the box. The wire slices into your fist and forearm, but it is a familiar enough pain that you manage to make it to the back of the box and grab the key.

Removing your hand is more painful than putting it into the box was. The razors drag across your already bleeding flesh, but you eventually pull your hand free of the contraption. Just as you are almost out, you feel your wrist snag on wire. Taking a deep breath, you decide to treat this like a bandaid and just yank your hand out. The pain is sharp and takes your breath away, but you make it out of the box with the key in hand.

Looking down at your blood slick arm, you wince as you see a strip of skin dangling from the top of your hand. You aren't sure if you should finish the job and remove the skin flap or set it back in place over the top of your hand and use some cloth to secure it in place.

You remove the Skin

Putting the key in your pocket for now, you try to think of how to remove the skin that is dangling from the back of your hand. It is torn up from the wrist and still attached at your knuckles. If you aren't careful you'll just tear it up from your fingers as well. You've never been one for doing your own first aid. A wound like this would score you some good quality painkillers at the ER, but that isn't an option yet. Maybe after you get out of here you'll drop by for a prescription.

The flap of skin hanging from the back of your head looks daunting as you grip it with your other hand. The blood covering it is slippery and you can't get a good grip on it. Looking around you try to find anything that might be able to trim it off, but nothing catches your eye.

After a few moments of thought, you bend over and ball your injured hand into a fist against the floor so that the flap of torn skin lays on the ground. Planting your foot on top of it, you yank your hand up as hard as you can. Pain licks up your arm as the skin rips down past your knuckles and tears some off of your fingers as well. But it does come off of your hand completely, freeing you from the loose skin.

Taking a moment to breathe through the lightheadedness brought on by the pain, you try not to look at what you've done. Ripping the skin off the knuckles had also taken it off your fingers to a degree. It turns out there isn't a whole lot of meat on a finger, mostly bone and tendon which you can now clearly see.

You open The Door

Taking the key back out of your pocket, you hurry toward the door. Your injured hand burns where the skin has been ripped off and the raw flesh is exposed to the air, but you push through the pain and push the key into the lock. It turns and you can hear the loud sound of the mechanism turning as the metal door screeches open.

Stepping through, you find yourself in a hallway with harsh fluorescent lights in the ceiling. You walk down it, but many of the doors are chained shut with warnings against trying to open them painted in red letters. It is cold and damp out here, making you shiver as you hurry down the corridor.

Finally, you come to a door with no warnings and a cassette labeled 'play me' taped to the middle of the door. Plucking it from the confines of the tape, you put it into the recorder and hit play.

"If you are listening to this, then you chose freedom over your addiction. This is just the first step to reclaiming your life, Ciara. For years you have blamed the people who came into your life for what you have become. Perhaps, you are right to blame them after they made you feel powerless over your own fate. But your obsession with blame keeps you from moving on. Beyond this door is someone who influenced your life early on. Today, you choose whether he lives or dies."

The tape comes to an end, leaving you feeling apprehensive about what is beyond the door in front of you.

You go Through The Door

Opening the door, you have to squint as bright lights cut on when you walk inside. The room is harshly illuminated as you step inside, the door crashing shut behind you and locking. As your eyes adjust to the harsh lights, you find yourself staring transfixed at the scene before you.

A man is strapped into a large mechanical device of some kind which holds him upright facing you. His eyes are locked onto you as you step forward. His mouth is sewn shut, but he isn't staying quiet. He struggles against the binds that hold him in place, making incoherent sounds as an old television on a stand nearby cuts on.

The tape plays, showing a puppet like head on the screen with painted white skin, red spirals on the cheeks, and red eyes. It's mouth opens and closes as the voice from the tapes begins to speak again.

"Hello again, Ciara. You should remember the man before you very well. When you were still a girl, the two of you were inseparable. You thought it was love, that he would save you from your own personal hell. But, instead, he introduced you to the drugs that have ruled your life ever since. He used you for years and when he was done with you, he burned you one last time for good measure. Now he is the one who will get burned unless you are willing to pay the price for his freedom. But, does he deserve that freedom, Ciara? Make your choice."

The screen goes to static before showing a clock counting down from sixty seconds. Turning back towards the man in the device, you now recognize Forrest as you look at him strapped down into the device. It's been over a decade since you saw him last, the memory of it is burned into your mind and no high has ever been able to erase it.

For years the two of you had been a teenage Bonnie and Clyde. Mostly robbing convenience stores more than anything, using the money to buy weed, cocaine, and any pills you could find on the market at any given time. At the time, you had believed he was your ticket to freedom. He had sold you so many stories of taking you away from your family and getting an apartment together. But, he never did save you. Instead, he damned you.

As the years went on, Forrest had gotten deeper and deeper into drugs and crime. Eventually, he was dealing for a man who had his filthy fingers in on every kind of black market scheme in the entire city. He was too stupid to be careful and ended up owing the man money. Not having any money, Forrest had offered to give him the only thing of value he had.

You.

He waited until you were too doped up to fight back, then Forrest had stuffed you into his car and driven you to a filthy house in the middle of the worst part of town. There he traded you over to a man you didn't know and walked away free of debt.

Now here he is, strapped down to this contraption completely at your mercy. You have hated him for so long, wished for an opportunity just like this. To watch him suffer for what he did to you. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, watching you contemplate just what it is you want to do as the clock quickly races toward zero.

You taunt Forrest

"You ruined my life," You spit out at him, watching as he struggles to get free.

"Do you know what he did to me?" You can't help the bark of near hysterical laughter that escapes you. It's a pointless question though, he can't answer you with his mouth sewn shut like that.

Fidgeting a bit, you glance over at the screen once more. It's now counting down from ten seconds. You don't know what happens when it reaches zero, but you step back a bit just to be safe. Forrest ruined your life in so many ways, it feels fitting to be given this kind of power over him.

The countdown finally hits zero and you jump as flames shoot out of small metal pipes at his feet. Forrest's screams are muffled by his mouth being clamped shut, but the sound still rattles around inside your head even as the acrid odor of burnt flesh hits your nostrils.

You try to Save Forrest

You look frantically around the room as Forrest begins to scream in pain through his closed mouth, the muffled sounds an agonizing groan that fills the room. Spying what looks like a large box covered in a tarp, you hurry over to it. A card set on top simply reads: Which one has the key?. Tossing it aside, you rip off the tarp and find yourself staring down at a metal box with three holes in the top just big enough to reach your arm down inside, but it looks like the box is deep enough to go up to your shoulder.

Forrest's screams of agony spur you into action. He's a horrible person, but you aren't sure if you want his death on your hands. Taking your already injured hand, you dip it down into the first hole in the top of the box. Nothing happens at first, but once you are elbow deep a loud whooshing sound like air explodes up from the box. Intense heat scorches over your hand, causing you to yank it back out with a shriek of pain.

Holding your hand, you look down at the skin that isn't covered in the cloth. It is a dark red, but not blistered, at least not yet.

More mechanical sounds behind you cause you to look over your shoulder as the next series of three torches cuts on, burning Forrest's thighs, hips, and middle. He screams in agony, no longer able to form words. He just screams and struggles. The smell of his meat burning makes you want to vomit.

You keep Trying

"Fuck...FUCK!" You shriek, turning back around to the box.

You don't know which one has the key, but it's the only way to open the locks on the straps keeping Forrest trapped. Taking a deep breath, you shove your hand back into the first hole as fast you can. The steam cranks on and burns hot, but you reach the bottom. You feel around for a second, but find nothing and yank your arm back out of the oven of steam.

Pulling it back out your enter arm is now covered in heat blisters and an angry, shiny red color. It surges with a pain you can barely stand. Tears stream down you face as you cradle your burnt arm.

"I can't do this..." You mutter to yourself as Forrest continues to scream in agony.

You keep Trying

Taking a shuddering breath, you plunge your arm into a different hole in the top of the box. The steam burns hotly, but this time you feel something when your burnt hand reaches the bottom. Gripping it, you pull it back out and stare at the key as you hold it in your horribly burnt hand.

Turning back to Forrest, you hurry towards him. You fumble with the lock for the strap around his neck, but get it undone after a moment. His squirming and screaming doesn't help. The next series of torches cuts on just you finish undoing the last strap, burning one arm and his sides before he falls forward to the floor, free of the trap.

He's still groaning and screaming in pain, writhing about on the filthy floor as you stand over him. His feet burnt down to the bone, as is most of his legs. There is no way he'll walk out of this room. But you did your part. He can crawl out of here for all that you care past this. It's his problem now, not yours.

You startle as the final set of torches cut on in the now empty machine, flames shooting out where his shoulders and head had been just moments before. It would have cooked his brain if you hadn't gotten him out when you did. He might still die, but at least now it won't be your fault.

Cradling your burnt arm, you look around the room as a creaking metalic sound catches your attention. The door out is now open, beckoning you through it. Stumbling around Forrest as he cries and shrieks, you hurry toward the door and into the next room.

You go Through The Door

Walking through the door, you find yourself in a hallway once more. Many of the doors are marked with warnings not to try and go through them, prompting you to pass them by for now at least. Watching Forrest burn to death still has your stomach churning, but at the same time you can't help but think about how he deserved it in so many ways. He ruined your life, set you on a destructive path and then left you with no way out of it. Just as the tape said, he burned you one last time before he left. But, he was the one burnt nearly to ash now.

Coming to the end of the hallway, you find another tape and put it into the recorder and hit the play button. That same voice starts speaking to you once more.

"Hello, Ciara. Beyond this door, are the two people truly responsible for putting you on the wrong path for life. They chose not to save you from themselves and now you must choose whether you save them from each other. In the next room, you will find yourself as the spectator of their game. You can watch and see which of them has the will to live, or you can intervene. Make your choice."

Taking a deep breath, you push through the door and into the next room. The lights inside the room trip on when you step inside, triggered by the door opening. A large cage takes up more than half of the room where two people jolt startle and shield their eyes as the lights blind them momentarily.

You swallow nervously as you recognize your mom and stepfather in the cage. Both of them have strange metal devices around their heads. It looks almost like a medical halo, but with thicker metal and two large screws on either side of their skulls as thick a rail spike. The devices clasp beneath their chin and are locked in place by a lock around the neck.

They recognize you once their eyes adjust to the light, both of them hurrying toward the bars of their cage and calling out to you. A numbness settles in your stomach as the adrenaline starts to pump through your veins. Watching Forrest nearly burn to death before you could get him free had been hard enough, now it's your parents? This is all just too much...

"Ciara? What's happening?" Your mom asks, her voice sounds panicked as you continue to finger the metal device around her head.

"I don't fucking know," You snap, glancing furtively at the television on the stand to the side of the cage.

"She did this. We're in a cage and she's walking around free," Your stepfather, Greg, nearly snarls out the words.

Looking at him through the bars, you feel nothing but disgust for him. Not that your mother is any better for marrying him, much less staying with him all this time. The man was a monster of a different sort than Forrest. It had started shortly after he had gotten together with your mom when you were still young, too little to understand what was going on.

It started with visits to your room in the middle of the night. Confusing conversations that you couldn't comprehend as a child, then it turned into late night games of dress up. Then it had become something much worse. For years it had gone on and no one did anything. No one saved you.

And she knew. You know that even as you stare into her eyes now. Her gaze is as accusing as always. She had never seen it as you being a victim, rather she had blamed you as if you were some kind of seductress trying to steal her new husband. The older you had gotten, the worse things got. But, she wasn't angry enough about it to rat him out to CPS when they came calling. She covered for the son of a bitch then they both made sure you never talked to anyone about your nightmare of a homelife ever again.

"Ciara, get us out of here." She demands, her voice somehow both fearful and accusing at the same time.

You refuse to Help

"Fuck you," the words come out as a growl from your throat as you stand still and watch them through the bars.

"She's a junkie, a whore. That's all she's ever been and all she'll ever be," Greg spits out the words like bullets, but the insults feel empty in the current situation. You have the power here, not him.

"That's rich coming from you. I'd rather be a junkie whore than a pedophile, you sick fuck. You deserve whatever is about to happen to you," You lean forward as you growl out the words, "And I'm going to enjoy watching you die."

The television cuts on before any more words can be said, the now familiar voice commanding everyone's attention.

"Hello Greg and Karen. The lives you have lived have brought nothing but harm to those around you. A pedophile who abuses his stepdaughter and a mother who turns a blind eye and allows it to continue for years. You have lived your lives caring only for yourselves. Today your will to live will be tested. The devices you wear can only be unlocked with the key that the other has down their throat. You only have to pull the line out of the other's mouth to free yourselves. The screws on either side of your head will slowly drill into your skull once the time starts. You have three minutes before they pierce your brain. Live or die, make your choice."

The screen cuts to static then begins a countdown from three minutes. You watch as both of them try to pull at what appears to be fishing line hanging from their mouths and secured to their shirts to prevent them from swallowing it completely. Both stop pulling almost immediately, gasping in pain. Moments later you hear the drills start up, slowly cranking their way continuously tighter as the clock ticks by.

You try To Help

Not able to watch anymore, you quickly glance around looking for some way to help. After a moment, you spot a card hanging from one corner of the cage on your side. There is metal sheeting keeping anyone inside the cage from reaching through to the card. Walking forward you head toward it, only to feel the tile beneath your foot give way and a sharp pain stab through your foot.

Looking down, you can see that the tile floor has given way under your weight and nails have come up through small holes in the floor to prick your feet. You slowly pull your foot back, feeling the nails piercing the sole of your foot slide back out roughly. Blood stains the tile floor now and your foot throbs painfully where the nails went through to the bone.

Angry swearing draws your attention back to your mother and stepfather in the cage, they seem to have turned on each other now. Greg has your mother by the shoulders and is trying to force her down to the floor, likely to rip the key out of her throat. If you're going to help, you'll have to act quickly.

Still, the thought enters your mind that she never did help you when you had been the one he was hurting. How many times had he come into your bedroom as a child, hurting you and you had looked over at the door to see her watching with disgust on her face. But, she never intervened. Just looked at you as if it were all your fault before walking away and going back to sleep, leaving you at the mercy of a grown man many times your child self's size.

You push Through It

You try to guage the distance between yourself and the note then make a jump for it. The nails rip into your feet on the landing, but the momentum lets you pull your feet up from the nails quickly enough. The pain shoots up your legs as you stand on your bleeding feet, but at least you made it past the bed of nails hiding beneath the floor. You pick up the card and read it, surprised that is much more straightforward than Forrest's. According to the note, all you have to do is press the button to speed up the bolts being drilled into their skulls. Both of them have their own button welded onto the metal sheet on the wall of the cage facing you. It must be remotes. Your mother's name, Karen, is on the left and your step father's name is on the right. You could kill one to save the other... Or both.

You kill Greg

You slam your hand down onto the button under Greg's name, peering around the metal sheeting to see through the uncovered part of the cage wall. Barely a heartbeat passes before the bolts drilling into his skull speed up, the sound filling the room as he falls to his knees and grips the device in his hands. A pained grunt escapes his mouth as he thrashes about, trying to get the clunky metal device off of him with no luck.

Your mother scurries to the other side of the cage, her own device still drilling the bolts at the same slow pace. It isn't long before the bolts break through Greg's skull, sending his body into convulsions as foamy saliva drips from his mouth. The bolts drill in a little deeper and her goes still, blood dripping from his nose.

"Get the key!" You urge your mother.

She seems to be in pain from the bolts on her own device as she hurries over to Greg's body and yanks on the fishing line down his throat. It comes up slowly, but she manages to get the key and remove her own device. The bolts have already made their way into her skull, but not all the way. She thrashes about for a moment before it finally comes loose, blood trickling down either side of her temples where the bolts were.

"Thank you..." She mutters as she looks your way, gingerly touching the spots where the bolts had been drilling their way into her head.

"You never helped me, you know." You blurt out before you can stop.

"I'm so sorry, Ciara."

"Fuck you," You spit out the words as a door opens off to the side of the room, your exit.

She doesn't say anything else, the guilt is written blatantly on her face. Every time she saw him hurting you and doing nothing about it flashes through your mind as the anger wells up in your chest. The times she had accused you of seducing that sick fuck. As if a girl not even in her teens would ever do something that sick.

After staring at her hard for a few moments longer, you swallow down the anger and turn your back to her. She isn't worth it and all you want is to get out of this shithole.

You leave

Stepping through the doorway, you find yourself in another dimly lit hallway. Looking at the doors that are blocked off with warnings painted on them, you wonder if perhaps the warnings are empty? Maybe escape from this place is just a matter of breaking the rules?

Stopping at the door you are meant to walk through, you pick up the tape waiting for you and put it into the player.

"Hello Ciara, you are so close to facing all of your demons. Only two more remain. Beyond this door lies a woman you might not recognize, but her choices directly affected the direction of your life from early on. Inside the next room you will find everything you need to know about her in order to make your choice regarding her fate. Will you show her the mercy she did not show you? Make your choice."

The message makes you frown, unsure just what it could mean. Looking at the door in front of you, you can't help but be afraid of what is in the next room. You've already seen enough people suffer, even if they did deserve it. Glancing back down the hall you just walked through, you eye one of the doors warning you from opening it.

You try One Of The Other Doors

Tired of playing this sick game, you walk back down the hall and look at the door which has warnings against opening it painted in red letters. After staring at the door for a few moments, you try the doorknob and feel surprise when it is unlocked. Pushing the door open, you see a dark room beyond it.

As you step through the door, a strange sound from above startles you as a mist of water sprays down from a hose nozzle above you. For a moment you stand still in confusion, but within a few heartbeats, the liquid then begins to burn. You try to wipe it away, but it covers you and even your clothes are starting to dissolve beneath the acid.

Your skin feels like it is melting as you frantically search for a way to get it off of you but there is nothing in the hallway or the room you have just opened to help. The pain is excruciating as you fall you to the floor, still trying to wipe the acid off of you. A horrible slipping sensation brings your attention to your arm as you see the skin has come loose with your attempts to wipe away the liquid covering it. Blisters bubble up where the skin is still attached as you feel the acid start to burn down into your muscles.

Thrashing about on the filthy floor, you lose all concept of thought. You just want to get this stuff off, but there is no way to achieve that. Instead, all you can do is wriggle about and cry in pain as the acid slowly eats you alive.