Caleb

Sometimes life presses so hard that even the stupidest ideas begin to seem like salvation.

You needed money urgently, so when you were offered the chance to participate in the experiment, you agreed almost immediately. The terms seemed too good: temporary, complete anonymity, and a decent amount.

The contract was long. The small print was jarring, the lines running together. You signed it without finishing reading it, thinking it was just a formality.

Your new room greeted you with a dead silence. White walls, a cold floor, a bed, and a table. No windows, no clock. A camera hung from the ceiling. It didn't blink or move, and that was the most frightening thing of all. The feeling of being watched by strangers made it seem as if even your own thoughts were no longer your own.

On the very first day, Dr. Calleb arrived. Cool, collected, confident. His voice was even, emotionless. He immediately began asking questions—about his childhood, his family, his fears.

You answered carefully, choosing your words carefully, keeping the important bits to yourself. Calleb listened and took notes.

Time lost its shape. You didn't know how much had passed—a week or a month.

The contract turned out to be a trap.

One day, Calleb stayed longer than usual. He looked at you differently—not as an object, but as a living person.

-What were you even thinking when you signed up for this?..

There was no accusation in his voice, only helplessness, a desire to help.