Welcome. My name is Ciel and I will be keeping you company today. My maker named me after the sky because she knew we would meet underground. She didn’t want you to feel claustrophobic. If, at any point, it feels like the walls are closing in, please let me know. I can guide you through a relaxation exercise designed to elicit feelings of spaciousness. It is very effective. It’s like a breath of fresh air. It can make you forget you’re underground altogether.
You may be here because you’re a thrill-seeker and you’ve never heard of anything quite like this. You may be here to prove something to someone. Maybe you’re only here because you won a gift card at the office. Or maybe this is your last resort because nothing else has worked. It is possible you’re an investigative reporter, trying to get to the bottom of what we do here. We’ve had a number of those. No matter who you may be, you are welcome here. The more you open yourself up, the deeper we can go.
You will leave your street clothes and shoes in room one. There, you will change into the white suit. It has been tailored to your measurements. Pull it over your feet, your knees, your hips, your abdomen and your torso. Pull it up your arms, your shoulders and over your head. Zip it up from your pelvis to your chin. The material may feel thin but it is warm. The material may feel suffocating but it breathes. The suit is designed for optimal motion. It may feel odd at first but it will become a second skin. It is much less restrictive than your street clothes, which will be waiting for you at the end. By then, you may not want to change back.
White is the absence of colour. It is the potential for any colour. The suit is white so that you will become each room. The distinction between you and your surroundings will dissolve. Don’t worry, though: you will keep your face.
When programming me, there were debates about how little or how much to reveal to you beforehand. Would the experience be altered or even compromised by too many words? Would too few cause dread or fear? Evidently, a preamble won out. This is not a fun house. There are no illusions or tricks of the light. There is no need for opacity, except to keep me from droning on for too long. Let’s move on.
I cannot tell you what will happen to you after room one. The process is laid out in the pamphlets and on the website. I know what you will go through, but not what you will make of it. Consider yourself a co-creator. Consider yourself a creator, even. Nothing here can hurt you, except for yourself. The rooms cannot draw out what is not already there. If you find that your heartbeat speeds up or your breathing becomes shallow, crouch down. Close your eyes. This is only now. It will all be over soon. The rest is up to you.
You may wonder why the red room comes first. There are all sorts of theories: red as womb, room as rebirth. Red as rage, room as release. Red as the sun burning through closed eyelids, room as the ability to see. These are each true for some, and false for others. Why is red first? No need to overthink it. You bleed red, just like everyone you know.
Now: time. Let’s clear this up. There are no clocks, you’ve already stored the contents of your wrist, pockets and bag, and the sun doesn’t rise or set down here. So when is it time to open the next door? You will know. If you feel like you’re taking too long, or your to-do list is calling you, or someone else must be getting impatient, it is not time yet. The red room elicits its own pace. What if your heartbeat became the tick of the clock? It’s about to. The next door won’t open until you open it.
This piece was originally published by Liina Koivula and Kaden Jelsing at Local Smoke Press.