4. A room white enough to pass for a cloud

The alarm wasn't going off, neither was the TV turning on. Wait, he didn't have either of those things. John stared at the ceiling for minutes before jolting out of his bed, he checked the time on his phone before slowly relaxing back into his bed. It was a Sunday.

"Humm, humm, buuuuuuahgahahhb" John brushed his teeth and shaved his beard, he wasn't a fan of the grown-out beards most men wore. He liked his short and stubby mostly because his hair was still... well on his head. He usually just let his long hair fall down the sides but today he wanted to do something different, so he picked up a black hair tie and put his hair into a messy man bun. "Today..." John dwelled on those words.

"What exactly did I do yesterday?" John put his hands on the sink using it to balance as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. The reflection felt fake and pretentious, he had no idea why he felt like this. It wasn't as if he knew any other mirrors that didn't have the same effect. "Wait..."

The sense of Deja Vu had struck him twice now, "Twice? When was the first time?" His brain danced around his head and he felt nauseous. Maybe it was just a dream he had, maybe it was just an imagination, it was probably just him overthinking it. He told himself these words on repeat to keep himself sane.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

His cell phone was ringing and although he kept it on his bed the first place he searched was his pockets, he felt around but the only thing he could feel through the fabric was steel and paper. The paper was the cash he usually kept on him, but steel? It's not as if a zipper could be in his pocket. He put his hand in and brought out a necklace that had a dark key with the number "251C" engraved on both sides. "What's this?"

John paced around his room thinking about what this could mean, no memory had returned but John didn't even know they were missing to begin with. "Is someone playing a prank on me? Or did I pick this up from the sewers?" The first one was illogical and John knew it though he didn't want to admit it openly. The reason it was illogical was because he had no friends who would even prank him. And for the second.

John was a mild germaphobe, he could stand going to dirty places though most times with a protective suit on but he could stand dirt as long as it did not intrude on his quality of life. Meaning he would never pick up something from the sewers and bring it home. "So where did I get this?" Visions of a woman holding a gun flashed in his mind but he didn't make anything of it or rather, he couldn't.

He inspected the key once more, it was or should have been a door key by the size of it. Maybe it was one of his keys, though the number 251C made it seem like it belonged to an apartment complex. "Maybe it unlocks one of my doors?" That too wasn't too illogical plus he had the time, what was the harm in testing a key.

And so he went about his adventure, testing the key in every door he found until he hit a dead end. A passageway that was found in between his kitchen and bedroom had a bunch of doors on each side but none of them had a space for a key, only a code on the sides. "251C," John said the number out loud while staring at the keypad attached to one of the doors. "No way this works right?"

John typed in the code but the keypad didn't turn green or indicate that the correct code was put in, the only sound he heard was a slight nudge as if something was pushed aside. John put his hand on the door and pushed it, the door swung back inwards revealing a room as white as the color. John was so amazed by the beauty of the room that he didn't hear the door close behind him. "Wow."

Although the room was whiter than the crystallized drops of water that fell every December something felt off about it, the feeling gave John so much anxiety he didn't understand, it confused him.

The ground started to shake and it felt like he was going into the ground, the white parts of the wall started to cave in and panels that held items on them started to appear, four panels came into view with one item on each of them. The first one had a pistol with a note under it saying, Index has one(1), the second one was a flashlight with a note under it as well reading, "The second has an acute awareness with sight to match." The third was a handkerchief that was as white as the room but has a black spot in the 'middle' there was no note under it.

The last one was probably the most eerie of all the four, it propped up a note that was written in red and blue ink and the handwriting was so familiar that John was certain he had seen it before and John wasn't mistaken. Because not only had he seen this handwriting before, it was his handwriting.

Upon reading the note every memory that John lost rushed back in like it never left, John fell onto the wall holding his head screaming out like a madman. "Henry!, Henry! You bastard!" John fell to his knees and started crying, this wasn't the first time this had happened to him and he wasn't sure if it was going to be the last but for his friends. It's just been one whole nightmare with no break's whatsoever.

Henry purposely took his own life knowing that the hand was watching him. "Bastard acted until the very end." John got up and the plan he had made before could finally come into motion because this was the first time he had retained his memory by seeing his handwriting. "I'll make this right, I swear."

John turned over the first panel on the wall revealing a key with the number '451A' engraved on both sides, the hand would instantly know something was wrong once he came out of this room and he would use that to his advantage. In fact, he'd purposely sell the scene.

John pocketed the key and pressed a button on the wall causing the room to ascend and everything that revealed itself to return back to its normal state before he opened the door.

John got out of the room and started craving wine, he wasn't a raging alcoholic but every now and then it wasn't bad to get shit-faced especially when running toward death's door. John sat down on one of two chairs at his dining table and called out the name of the man that would eventually put a bullet in his skull.

"Your perception is as marvelous as always Zero." Index walked out from a corner and sat down on the dining chair opposite John.

"When are you going to listen to reason, it doesn't have to be this way. It's never had to be this way."

Still having his face covered and his posture perfect Index tilted his head and pointed at John. "That's why you came right? To disagree with me. You couldn't just let me have this one thing could you."

"What your doing isn't right!" John shouted and Index brought out his gun.

"It doesn't matter, we'll get what we need eventually but until then. Have fun not remembering anything." Index pointed the gun at John's face but didn't pull the trigger.

"..." John closed his eyes expecting to wake up on his bed but that didn't happen. Instead, all he met was the skeptical gaze of Index who watched him like a predator trying to foresee its prey's next move.

"What are you planning?" Index lowered his gun, "You called out to me, expecting to be put back on your bed with no memories even though your little hidden room is compromised."

"He doesn't know about Kayla." John thought to himself.

"You've always been sly," Index laughed. "Just another reason I fucking hate you." Index pointed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger.