008. 009. 010.

The silence was worse than the screaming had been. At least when Dr. Brenner was yelling, you knew where he was. Now, nothing. Just the hum of electricity and the distant drip of water somewhere in the dark.

The door to 010 hung open behind you. The lock you'd bent with your mind still smoldering, twisted like taffy.

Footsteps. Distant, but growing closer.

In front of you, the hallway split. Left, toward the main exit — the one with the security desk and the armed guards and the cameras. Right, toward the service corridors, dark and unmarked, where the air smelled like rust and something older.

The footsteps grew louder. The flickering light above buzzed like an angry insect.

A door at the far end of the left hallway slammed shut on its own. The cameras above swiveled, one by one, pointing down at the floor.

The choice was yours.