A metallic throbbing pulsed in the depths of my mind. It was as if a massive, rusty pendulum had been installed inside my skull, crashing against the walls of my brain with every swing. This was a familiar pain; that invisible hand squeezing my temples like a vice every morning... But today, the pressure was different. A pressure forcing its way outward from within, like a warning signal.
Sunlight leaked through the curtains, searing my pupils like a thin scalpel. Grimacing, I fumbled for the nightstand on my right. My fingertips brushed against cold wood first, then touched my lifeline: my phone. Before my eyes could even focus, that familiar blue light hit my face. This was my morning ritual, my way of connecting to the world or whatever was left of it. I watched the cascade of disasters flow as my finger slid across the screen: bombs exploding somewhere, stock markets crashing, mobs lynching each other... With every swipe, a tiny crumb of dopamine dropped into my brain, numbing that metallic pain.
"The world is burning," I thought to myself, "and I am safe here." I tossed the phone to the edge of the bed.
There was a warmth on my left side, the sound of steady breathing. I looked at the silhouette of the woman buried in the sheets. Where were we last night? The club, or one of the camp's dim corridors? My memory was scattering like ink spilled with water. Her name... Olivia? Amelia? I vaguely remembered the moment her lips touched my ear, but the rest was a blur. The only clear thing I recalled was her skin. Flawless, smooth, and warm. Even in sleep, she was as aesthetic and inviting as a statue.
I leaned towards her and lightly touched her shoulder. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. Her hazel irises focused in a split second, as if she hadn't been sleeping at all, but merely in standby mode. She looked at me, a mechanical smile appearing on her lips.
"Good morning," she whispered. Her voice was so smooth that for a moment, it felt too perfect to be real.
Her gaze triggered a primal hunger inside me that I couldn't describe. This feeling was less like the romantic need of Robinson Crusoe's solitude and more like the withdrawal symptoms of an addict. A hunger for skin, for touch, and for oblivion. Without saying a word, we were drawn to each other. Her movements were so harmonious, so flawless; it was as if this was a dance with pre-rehearsed choreography. It was both creating me and destroying me. That metallic throbbing in my mind was replaced by pleasure and faded away.
Afterward, as we both lay on our backs watching the ceiling, my pulse slowed. This place... This place had a strange gravity. I thought about how I got here. In the foggy corners of my mind, a grey city life and that glossy brochure thrust into my hand appeared. "The Experience of a Lifetime," it read in neon letters. I remembered that desire to escape I felt at that moment. I had just said, "Get me out of here," to myself. And now I was here. It was as if my past had been surgically cut out and discarded. But who cared? Unlike the chaos outside, this was a synthetic paradise.
"Shower?" she said, pulling me out of my thoughts. Her voice was cheerful, but her eyes held that depthless glint.
We moved to the bathroom. As hot water and steam filled the room, the sound of water echoing off the tiles numbed my mind. Standing under the water, I watched the drops sliding down her skin. Everything was as flawless as a frame from a commercial. I wanted to melt into that moment, to stop the flow of time. The outside world didn't exist. There was only us, the steam, and this endless cycle.
When we got ready, I looked at our reflection in the mirror. Me in my relaxed linen shirt, her in a chic dress hugging her body we looked like we had stepped out of a magazine. "We're perfect," she said, smiling. I nodded. Yes, we were playing our roles.
We left our room and headed for the stairs leading down to the main hall. The camp was a massive complex; corridors twisted like a labyrinth, every corner feeling identical to the last. Every time I descended the stairs, a strange emptiness formed in my stomach, a sense of déjà vu washing over me as if I were entering that hall for the first time.
The hall was an artificial biosphere, a marvel of engineering. A tropical forest was simulated under the massive glass ceiling. The humidity level, the temperature, the exotic bird sounds coming from the speakers... Everything was calculated to the millimeter. The area around the lagoon-like pool in the center was filled with tanned people laughing with cocktails in their hands.
And right in the center, a monument of serenity amidst the chaotic crowd: Alisha. My breath hitched every time I saw her. Tall, athletic, and always alert. Her green eyes scanned the surroundings like a radar amidst all this fun, searching for the slightest irregularity. The camp's security chief or manager... I didn't know exactly what she was, but she was the god of this place. She was giving short, clear orders to the staff. Even though the woman beside me was beautiful, there was a dark authority in Alisha that attracted me. Her inaccessibility, that stern temperament, pulled me like a magnet. I had promised myself that one day I would melt those walls of ice.
After the open buffet breakfast, we moved to the poolside. The atmosphere was like a carnival. Music, laughter, the clinking of glasses... Everyone was happy. Everyone was too happy. As I stood by the water with my glass of whiskey, I thought about how exhausting this excessive joy could be sometimes.
Just then, at the far corner of the pool, I noticed someone isolated from the crowd. She was different from the others. I wasn't just talking about her physical beauty; it wasn't her chestnut hair, smooth skin, or elegant posture that caught my attention. There was a heavy sadness weighing on her shoulders. She wasn't seeing the fake paradise around her; she was staring into the void. In her eyes, there was something no one else here possessed: Reality.
A voice inside me pushed me towards her with a magnetic pull. Cutting through the crowd beside me, I walked towards her with sure steps. When I sat on the sunbed next to her, she didn't flinch, only slowly turned her gaze to me.
"Everyone here is laughing," I said in a calm tone. "You look like you're at a funeral." She looked at my face. Her eyes were green, but not harsh like Alisha's misty and full of fear. "Because this place isn't real," she said. Her voice was so hoarse I had to read her lips.
I frowned. I was expecting the classic depressed tourist conversation, but her intonation was different. "What do you mean? The drinks are real, the water is wet, I am real. Would you like me to join you? Maybe you'll cheer up a bit."
Her eyes suddenly widened, scanning the area. She was panicked. "Please," she said, her voice trembling. "Don't talk to me. You shouldn't have come near me."
I smiled, moving a bit closer to comfort her. "Hey, relax. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm not dangerous."
"The problem isn't you," she said, her eyes locking onto a spot behind my shoulder. She whispered in horror: "It's dangerous for you. You have to go. Don't you remember?"
Remember? This word triggered that metallic pain in my mind. A sharp ache appeared in my temples. "Don't remember what? What is your name?"
"Go!" she said, almost pleading. "I don't want you to get hurt."
At that moment, I felt the atmosphere shift. The music was still playing, but it sounded muffled. The cheerful hum of the crowd gave way to a tense silence. Two burly staff members were running towards us, parting the crowd. Their faces held no expression, just a lock on the target.
"Hey! What's going on?" I shouted, standing up. One of the staff grabbed my arm with a grip as hard as steel. The other seized the girl by the shoulder and forcibly lifted her. The girl didn't try to resist, she just looked at me. In that look, there was a deep, heartbreaking expression that said she knew me.
"Let her go!" I roared, trying to free my arm. "What's your name? Tell me your name!" As the girl was being dragged away in the staff member's arms, she lunged towards me. "Isa..." she shouted, "Isabel..." The staff member's huge hand covered her mouth, stifling her voice. And in that instant, a bomb exploded inside my head.
This wasn't just a headache; it felt like the circuits of my brain were frying. I felt a warm liquid trickling from my nose to my lip. When I wiped it and looked, I saw my fingers stained crimson. Blood.
The world slipped off its axis. My knees gave way. I tried to look around, but what I saw made my stomach turn. The turquoise water of the pool was turning grey and pixelating; the tropical palm coverings on the wall flickered and peeled away like a digital error, revealing rusty, cold, grey metal plates beneath. The bird sounds turned into the screech of a broken record.
I collapsed to the ground. The ringing in my ears drowned out all sound. As my consciousness was about to fade, Alisha entered my blurred field of vision. That flawless woman was now in a panic. She ran to my side, but not to help me. She was shouting into her collar radio. Her voice sounded muffled, as if coming from underwater, but I heard the words: "Subject showing incompatibility! Glitching again!"
My eyelids grew heavy. The last thing I heard was her icy command: "Critical error detected. Subject 894. Violation code: Name. Protocol 10. Reboot system." Then, everything was buried in darkness.