Updates are infrequent, but so far have been nightly. Thank you to Quinn for assisting with specific phrasing, and Electro for broarder strokes of encouragement and feedback.
"You will be seen to" is all it sates, this creature of pure black latex holds me down in the seat, with only one hand against my shoulder. You may have been a fool trying to get into here, but your not leaving empty handed, if I get to leave that is… no, mustn't dwell on that thought, we will, I know it.
It's a decently large room, surprisingly non-claustrophobic, especially compared to the rest of the facility, who's main rooms feel like holding cells for the victims that— My thoughts are interrupted, the sound of the door behind me opening feels more like a threat of death than anything else this building has presented to me yet. Something's high-heals are clicking across the hard floor, getting closer, and closer, piercing through my skull until, they go past. I slowly open my eyes to see who they belonged to, A person?
Or is this another kind of uniform, are there tier's of Drone inside of here? it's deep black dress reflecting the purple lights around her show that no matter what it is, it's defiantly a leader in this twisted place. I chose to keep my mouth shut, as it opens the laptop on the desk, they clacks away on her keyboard, before reading… something, and closing it. Tilting their head back up in a rigid deliberet mannor, the visor and my eyes meet. I mustn't forget what they say about the people in this place.
"Adam Struneph" they states to my shock. This kind must not have their voice box's removed "Currently working for Papers for All, with 12 different front page articles, it's a pleasure to meet you". I try to look away, but the room's walls were made of interlocking shard like pannels, all seemingly showing the Drone's reflection, despite all being pointed in seemingly random directions. It sighs, and continues "Let me make some things clear, before we continue." She clicks a button on a small object on her desk, and a small red light flickers on, lazily flashing, as she... removes her visor? Her face is, Human. Oddly smooth but clearly that of somebody who's been taking care of themselves.
"You came into this building, without our knowledge or permission, recording everything you could, to try to get a front page article, presumably about how were stealing people? This could have been an email." She pauses, stating nothing but facts with a tone of irritation in her voice. "We will let you have all of your footage, but request that any and all faces of individuals within this building be blurred and censored to protect their identities." Im sorry, pardon? You want to not be known? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Rage and anger I realised had been boiling since I discovered this place leapt out of my mouth, I made my case, I told her everything, She Will Not Know Peace Once I Am Done With Here.
She didn't flinch, she didn't move, she didn't do, anything. "Your issue is with me, the company I work for, and the people hired here, not with the people 'captured'. When you reported on people enprisoned against all laws, it was clear that they were not there with free will, and they still received anonymity. Censored identities of the innocent is all we ask." I, shit. She hasn't said anything wrong there, it's the only right thing to do, though I don't even know if the prisoners know anything anymore.
"Fine." I begrudgingly state, with a sense of finality. "Wonderful" she brightens up with, "When you wish to leave, my assistant will guide the way" the boulder of a creature removes their hand from my shoulder and paces away, stopping just shy of the door. "Your not injured are you?" She enquires, with a tone of genuine concern, for the avoidance of a lawsuit or for my actual safety I'm unsure of. "I'm ok, no serious injuries from being here." Her eyes calm down, as she breathes out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you, if you wish to leave then I promise you that the door behind you is free to use. Though I'm more than aware that with somebody like yourself, your more curious about the going on's of a place like this than anybody else." Naturally, when the creatures you send out are barely able to communicate, but have been confirmed to be living- "Since leaving right away isn't for you" She interrupts my thoughts, with a sense of tightness in her voice. "I'll begin with everything that is public, and confirm any and all questions you ask, fully on the record."
Sitting up, my focus is drawn to everything she says, whilst mentally taking notes of everything she may be telling a half truth about. "Hex is here to help, and we mean it. That's our company's slogan. Were often compared to Task Rabbit, with 2 major advantages. Firstly, were slightly cheaper on average, but primarily, we offer silent services. No awkward looks, no back talking, no fuss. We achieve this with our mandated uniforms, and fully catered to employees." Her statements are clearly rehearsed, nothing she's said goes against anything that the public information contradicts, but that's not what I'm here for. "Now as for why your here, your track record seems to be on finding people who have gone missing. People who have been exploited, abused, and presumed either dead and buried, or unrecoverable." She pauses, taking a glance up and down me, reading my slightest movements, potentially to confirm her own information about me. "Every employee here is here by choice, by contract, and has just as much ability to leave as you do right now." I don't believe it. Unless I'm trapped here, there is no chance that a company, tied to at least 20 missing people would let me, and anybody else here walk free.
"And just how am I expected to believe that everybody here is willing to stay, when I've already seen their living conditions." Did he just… what did he think he saw back there? "I don't follow, could you clarify a little?" I ask with curiosity and concern over his interpretation of the truth. "The tubes they sleep in, they look like mannequins strapped to a bed, but why would a statue need a heart rate monitor and recovery time" he states, emphasising the last few words, like he's played a gotcha. "The recovery beds are all a part of the needed conditions for them to relax. They are just sleeping." Is the best way to put it… Let's hope he truly does want to join after all of this like my superiors seem to think, or at least he'll sound like a lunatic if he tries to explain it all in one go. "I won't lie, it's very hard to explain when you haven't seen the start of the process. Why don't I walk you through it all, from before even the beginning of their time here." His eyes lighten up a little, he's intrigued now, and hopefully he'll not just listen, but understand. Leaning forwards, it's time to enlighten him.
"Every person here, was once a person who had far, far too many thoughts going around in their head. I don't suppose you've ever had an intrusive thought that no amount of therapy could get rid of, but we get rid of those doubts, concerns, and worries. These are the people who turn into our agents of goodness, and all we ask is that they get a little bit of light exercise, by doing the chores of other people who are willing to pay us." The confusion in him is clear, he must have a million questions going around in his head, none the least of which must be to speak to one. "Why isn't this all public then? I mean, if it was clear that everybody who's here is doing so freely, then everybody would come here for treatment." A valid question, but one that cannot be simply answered without knowing just how desperate people must be to get here. "Everyone who needs us, knows of us. Our teams out there do their own research, and are drawn to those who could use our help. It's a sort of a 6th sense that they need to have in order to get that kind of freedom from-" "Freedom?" He exclaims, rightly. "Didn't you say that everybody here was free to go as and when they wish? If so then why do they need freedom to leave?" Poor wording on my part for sure, but I'm beginning to see why admin were so interested in him. He has a good eye for details, in an admittedly stressful environment like he believes he is in. "Everyone is free to leave, if they chose to quit the program. Those who free roam for those in need of help however, are given permission to leave and stay on the program." A moment of tension hangs, he's not convinced that we're doing the right thing here, that keeping people here is wrong.
"Think of it this way, imagine a clinic that helps with gambling, it would be bad if they let their clients go to a casino without any kind of repercussions, so why would we let people who have come to us for help, due to far too many voices in their heads, let them out into a place that's just going to bring those thoughts back?" He blinks a couple of times, thinking for a moment. "But why would people even want to not leave" Now the gears are turning. Lets not waste this moment of clarity. "Because even just leaving the building is too much for them. Hell sometimes even leaving them by themselves is too much, so we begin the process."
It's intoxicating, nothing but good girl, nothing but wanting to follow in, I cant wait for going back in. Wait, what am I thinking? "That's what our drones feel all of the time, how did it feel?" Calm, like I didn't need to think of anything other than doing what I was told, and it felt good. "I'm glad you enjoyed it" she says to my thoughts, I stare at her shocked, her visor is back on and she's chuckling politely. She presses a button on the device on her desk, and the red light stops flashing. After holding another button she presses one more, and it emits my own voice? "Calm, like I didn't need to think of-" "You were thinking out loud, didn't realise it?" No…
I make sure my jaw isn't nothing this time, but it looks like my own facial expressions betray me "Don't worry, it's more common than you would expect. It may take a while to process, but if you need time, you can have it in here, or outside. We have a taxi waiting for you out front, take a ride home and call us if you need anything". She grabs a card, and ejects what is now clearly a cassette tape from the mysterious device on her desk and hands them both over to me "Take them, its a full recording of everything we've said in here, right up until now." The card has a monochrome rendition of the companies logo, along with a phone number and email address written on it. I take them back and turn around, and follow the big security guard back to the front door.
The ride home was... uneventfull, the tattered appartment was seemingly as it had been left. A microwave meal will have to do for now, it'll go ping in a bit, enough time to check everything gathered tonight is as it should be. Get it together Adam, we have files to check. I plug in the camera that was embedded in my shirt into the computer and, yes, all files in tact. Transfering the footage to my PC for backups is easy, and I dig around in some draws to see if I have an old walkman or something to play this tape they gave. Though, should I? For all I'm aware, it could put me under again, best do it when somebody else can snap me out of it. The microwave beeps so I tuck in, whilst taking a look at the footage. Scrubbing past the boring parts I check and, yes. It looks like everything is in tact, and rewatching reminds me of why I'm doing this. The bodies all covered up, the restraints, they arent human anymore, they are Drones now. I have to pause to make sure I dont loose my appitite after only half of my meal is gone, dont want to waste the soon-to-expire desert in the fridge, I deserve it.
Two mostly in date eclairs from the discount isle's later and I get back to work. There isnt much else to check, and the files are nearly backed up. Just the meeting with her left and, wait, why is the footage blurry? I unmute the speakers and, the audio's been scrambled too! This whole section is completly unuseable. I rewind and, yes, it's the tape recorder she used. She scrambled everything whilst she was recording, smart little- my phone vibrates to show that the file is uploaded, and the companies servers want to know what it is I've put there. "Project Hex, On site, File 1 of 2" I submit, finally realising the time, sunrise soon. I put the laptop to sleep, and begrudgingly work my way to bed, sleeping softly for once.
It's 7 O'Clock, they should all be here. I take a sip of my black coffee and check to see what people have done overnight. Nothing much yet, most of these people are amatures who can't show commitment, not like Adam. Adam has been nothing but excelent in his news stories, so I'm glad that he's not found new work yet. It also looks like he's actually uploaded a file, Hex 1 of 2 eh? lets take a- oh no. I dart to my phone and call him on Signal, this has to be off the record. He dosent pick up, fuck, he's probably asleep, I leave a message. "I'm coming over, now. We need to talk.". already on the way to the back door I message the head of IT security, tell them to lock down access to the file.
The drive is tense, and not one I wanted to take lightly. IT were already on it, apparently they had presumed something like this would happen, so prepared the notifications ahead of time. The whole time I couldnt help but worry, what was said in part 2? I make sure to bring my tape player, along with a fast converter to get it up onto a laptop quickly if permitable. I park on the curb, this is worth the parking ticket if the police do find the car parked here. I hesitate, double check and, yes it is the 3rd floor for him. I knock on the door, and am met with a calmed "Hello, surprised to see you here", which is surprisingly awake for him. "Adam, we need to talk in private" pushing past him as I state what's needed, he's a lot more docile than I had expected, confirming to me at least that he's been under.
Sitting down with his apparently first cup at the dining table, he cradles his cup of mocha, primerally for the heat. "Adam, do you remember the first time I asked you to stop investigating a case?" He pauses, knowing the answer already, but just checking his memory to ensure it's right. "Yes, I do James." A small sip is taken, before he continues "It was the Shooop case, you thought it was nothing, but ultimatly we turned over 14 minor's being used for forced labour in a sweat shop" I knod knowingly, before continuing "I'm glad you remember that far back, it was the first time you saved a life, and I regret ever claiming that there was nothing there." I look him directly in the eyes, he needs to know that were both on the same page with this. "Adam, I nearly got HexCorp shut down in the past, but decided that they were doing good. Please, drop the investigating, and if you need to, join them." His eyes widen with each request, and I mentally prepare myself for an argument. Seeing his face change in real time was truly something I wasnt expecting. First came shock, then anger, confusion, followed by the realisation that I was right. "There is no way I'm dropping this, when I dont know what the fuck they are doing." I need to get better at reading faces.
We listen to the tape recording, all the way to the end. I have no idea who's voice that is other than mine, it's been intentionally distorted beoynd recognition. "James I dont remember being under, and I havent been myself this whole morning. I cant let them do this to anybody else." He shakes his head, seemingly unable to belive what he's just heard "I know it's scary the first time, but trust me on this one". Trust him? How can I trust him when I can barly trust any memory of last night? "Remember you never published the people's network article?" I lean back suddenly "Of course I do, it was going to ruin the distribution of food and shelter to the homeless if it was made public." He nodds with a calmer experssion on his face, responding slowly "Exactly, at first you thought it was a mass trafficking of individuals, but it turned out everybody was on board." I already know where he's going with this. "And I can confirm that HexCorp has nothing but willing volinters" I try to speak up, but he holds his hand out at me. "Because I used to be one".
"Take some time to think" Is all he said before leaving. He never talked about who he was before working at Papers, and nobody has heard him tremble until now. It made sense why he forced the board to keep the free therapy sessions for the survivors we saved as a paper. I'm laying on the couch, holding the business card up in the air, flipping it from side to side, thinking. I dont know what last night me described it like, but it's professionally done, incredibly minimal, with only the logo, company name, and a phone number on it. I could call, but I dont know if that would be the right thing to do. Why does looking at it make me think im a girl? The silence is deffaning in a way that the recording wasnt. I cant continue on like this, breathing firmly, I decide to dial the number, and wait. One ring, two rings, three ri- "Hello, candidate" I shot up. "If you know the number of the Drone you wish to contact, please press hash, followed by their 4 digit ID". An ID number? I dont know of any that could work, and I dont want to get to the wrong person... Just as I worry this is a dead end, the recording on the other end pitches back in "If you are unsure of the number, and are in a safe place, please press star, to hear the reminder audio". It's, not much. Worth a shot I guess? I press it, and hear something, inhuman. It's a downwards drone mixed with whispers of nothing, but there is something blurry, a memory of something I once did but cannot remember clearly. Before I can process it, I hear the ring of a phone waiting to be picked up again. I check my phone screen and I apparently dialed in a hash key and 5 digit number? I dont remember doing this, but I do know who I have dialed.
A call back feels a little dissapointing, considering I was about to hear her voice again, but I guess even shady corperations have meetings. Half an hour isnt ultimatly too long to wait considering who is on the other end. I'm still surprisingly awake, today's mocha wasnt needed, and the usual nap haddnt even been considdered. The appartment appears to be clear of bugs, and now it's even been tied up. I'm mid way through further cleaning the house when suddenly, Mistress- I mean, Hex rings. It's a hidden number, but it's obvious it's them, so phone set to record, I pick it up. "Hello, do you want to join us, or learn more?" Join her? My gut jumps at A yes but I have to shake the idea out. A small chuckle is clear, I can feel her gentle smile over the line "Baby steps, understood. We'll have a car with you within 3 minitues, come back and take the introduction, no commitments." How did she know I had doubts? is she reading my mind? am I bugged? is she wa- "Breath". I do, deeply, calmly, and for the first time since this morning, I feel at home. "Good, it'll take about 35 minitues to get here once you get in the car. Just walk through the door, and follow the drone. He will take you to get a guest pass, and will answer a few questions before we can talk again."