The Cage of Conscience

Алексей Небоходов

The Cage of Conscience

Chapter 1

A heavy silence, like a taut veil, enfolded the space. Anna opened her eyes, but at first she could not focus: the light seemed too soft, almost mist-like. Slowly her vision cleared, and she realized she was lying on a bed covered with a smooth, snow-white spread. The mattress beneath her back was firm yet not hard, as though chosen with deliberate care for the sake of comfort.

Her gaze drifted across the room. Blue walls with a muted sheen framed the space, evoking a strange blend of coziness and menace. The ceiling rose high above, its surface resembling frosted glass, from which a gentle light poured. It illuminated everything evenly, casting no shadows, lending the room a sterile, almost artificial quality.

Beside the bed stood a small metal table, bare except for a glass of water. Every bed had its twin: the same table, the same glass. The floor, made of polished material, gleamed like a dark mirror, reflecting blurred silhouettes.

Anna sat up, her feet slipping onto the floor, and at the touch of its cool surface, her body shuddered involuntarily. She drew a deeper breath, but the air lodged coldly in her throat, reminding her that this place was not merely unfamiliar. It was alien. Unreal.

A rustle at her side made her turn.

Olga had awakened. Her movement was sharp, like that of someone long accustomed to being alert. She sat up at once, ran her hand through dark hair, and swept her eyes quickly across the room, assessing. Her face remained calm yet taut, like a beast poised to strike.

– Where are we? – she asked, her voice rough but firm. It tore through the silence, only to be swallowed by the walls.

Without waiting for an answer, Olga rose and strode toward the door. Her heels tapped softly on the floor. Bending down, she ran her palm along its rough surface, as though searching for hidden locks.

Anna said nothing. She only watched as Olga continued her inspection of the room.

Another sound – barely audible, like a sigh.

Katya opened her eyes and slowly turned her head. Her face showed a mixture of wonder and fear. As soon as she sat up, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if shielding against some invisible threat.

– Is this… a dream? she whispered, so faintly it almost went unheard.

Katya dared not rise. She looked at Anna, then at Olga, but found only silence in return. Her body trembled, and she remained hunched in a tight knot.

A quiet knock drew the others’ attention.

Igor was awake now. Like the rest, his movements were unhurried, measured, as though giving himself time to absorb the situation. Concentration was etched on his face, though his lips pressed tightly together betrayed the effort to mask emotion.

– We are not here by chance, – he pronounced, standing at the edge of his bed.

His gaze swept the room, lingering on the door, then on each of them in turn. Approaching the wall, he laid his hand against it, then tapped his fingers.

– This isn’t concrete, – he muttered under his breath.

Vadim woke next. His rising was abrupt, almost aggressive. He sat up at once, glanced around, and smirked, as if already annoyed by the entire spectacle.

– So, where are the clowns with the applause? – he scoffed, standing.

His voice carried a hard edge of sarcasm, placing him above the others by tone alone. He strode to the door and shoved it with his shoulder, but it did not budge.

– Perfect. So we’re locked in.

The last to stir was Artyom. His waking was the most serene: he stretched, yawned, and smiled, as though he’d found himself in a luxury hotel rather than a strange chamber.

– Well now, what’s this? Premium suite? – he asked with feigned ease.

He glanced around at the others, scratched his head, and gave a low whistle.

– So? Does anyone know where we are—or how we get out?

His smile was wide, yet slightly strained, as though even he did not believe in his own calmness.

The room sank once more into tense silence. Six strangers, six pairs of eyes, all filled with incomprehension. The air thickened, each breath taken with effort.

The chamber was large and square, but its spaciousness brought no relief. On the contrary, its strict symmetry was oppressive: three beds lined each of two opposing walls. Between them stood the room’s centerpiece—an enormous, opulent bed with a velvet headboard that shimmered under the soft matte light from the ceiling. The bedding looked decadent: a heavy satin cover of deep crimson and pillows arranged as though not for one occupant, but an entire entourage.

Anna cast the bed a fleeting glance but recoiled from its excess. It struck her as alien, almost ominous, like a throne awaiting some unknown ruler in an empty hall.

One corner of the room seemed torn from ordinary domestic life: a small fridge with a mirrored door, compact kitchen cabinets, a built-in stove. A little farther, a spotless microwave gleamed, pristine as though untouched by human hands. Everything was too orderly, like a showroom—devoid of life.

In the opposite corner stood its counterpoint: a lavish bar. Shelves of dark, expensive wood, lit with a golden glow, bore rows of bottles whose labels spoke of wealth—cognacs and whiskies worthy of elite collections. Each bottle seemed handpicked for a refined connoisseur. At the bar’s center stood a decanter filled with an amber liquid, beside it several crystal-clear glasses.

Another door loomed at the far wall. Its surface was plain, save for a slim matte handle. It seemed the only hint at escape, yet Anna knew—there would be no way out beyond it.

Olga was the first to check. She approached, opened it with slow, deliberate motion, and peered inside.

– Bathroom and toilet,” she announced, wrinkling her nose slightly.

The space beyond was as sterile and scrubbed as the room itself. White tiles, immaculate fixtures, a neat set of soaps and towels folded with an artificial precision.

– Not much, – Vadim muttered, glancing in with disinterest.

Artyom, eyes fixed on the bar, chuckled.

– Ah, but well stocked on spirits, – he quipped, nodding at the bottles. – A godly selection.

Anna felt the air grow heavier once more. Everything here was both luxurious and unsettling. The place seemed designed to lull attention and cloud the mind.

Six people. Six beds. And the sumptuous bed in the center, beckoning – as if holding the promise of answers. Yet they all sensed that behind such ostentation lay something far more dangerous.

Anna remained on the edge of her bed, silent. Her eyes, hidden beneath strands of fair hair, studied the others’ every movement. Silence was her refuge; it helped her discern who among them might prove a threat.

Olga, by contrast, wasted no time. She approached the door, examining it with the keen eye of an engineer inspecting a mechanism. Her slender fingers glided over its smooth surface, searching for flaws invisible to sight.

– There has to be some control panel, – she said with certainty, as though she knew. – Doors like this aren’t made simple.”

She stepped back, squinted, as if seeking faint lines. Her movements were precise, deliberate—the gestures of someone used to command.

– We’re not going to just sit and wait, – Olga added, her tone brooking no refusal.

Katya clung closer to Artyom, as though he alone might shield her from what lurked behind these blue walls.

– What is this, do you think? – she asked softly, her eyes on him with childlike hope.

Artyom smiled, tilting his head.

– Just another quest, – he answered with forced lightness, though his eyes were tight.

Katya nodded, eager to believe him. Her hands clenched together, and she cast furtive glances at the others, trust withheld.

Igor stepped forward, standing near Olga. Outwardly calm, yet his eyes betrayed unease.

– Let’s steady ourselves, – he said firmly, his voice loud enough for all to hear. – Panic won’t help. We need to assess what we have.

He gestured toward the kitchen, then the bar, as if to show that the room was stocked for survival.

– Clearly, this place wasn’t built to destroy us. At least—not yet.

His words hung heavy, sparking mixed reactions.

– Rational approach, really? – Vadim’s dry voice cut in.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression a blend of boredom and disdain.

– We’re trapped. What difference does it make why? No one’s letting us out.

His cynicism sent a ripple of fear through Katya, while Olga frowned sharply.

– Great attitude, – she shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. – Prefer to sit around waiting for the door to open itself?

– Why not? – Vadim shrugged, smirking. – Maybe they’ll feed us soon.

– Hey, hey—easy, – Artyom interjected, raising his hands as if to break up an invisible fight. His voice carried forced cheer, though tension lingered in it. – We’ve got a bar, fine beds. Maybe this is just a relaxation test. Like, ‘rest while you can.’

He winked at Katya, but no one smiled. His attempt at levity fell flat—the air in the room grew thick with strain.

Anna, still silent, noticed their eyes turning once more to the door. Her heart quickened. The door alone broke the room’s perfection, yet she knew—there was no answer waiting beyond it.

As she remained watchful, Olga turned back to the group.

– I think we should start simple, – she said, her tone leaving no room for dissent. – At least share our names.

– What’s the point? – Vadim snorted, sprawling onto the nearest bed. – Does it matter?

Olga whipped around, her gaze searing.

– It matters because we can’t get anywhere if we sit mute like children, – she snapped.

Vadim smirked, lips curling in mocking amusement.

– Fine. If it makes you feel better… Vadim. Lawyer. And yes, I’d also like to know when dinner is served.

Olga ignored the barb, pressing her lips together.

– Olga, – she said. – Now the rest of you.

– Anna, – Anna answered briefly, still seated.

– Katya, – came the trembling voice of the girl, who remained close to Artyom, seeking solace in his manner.

– Artyom, – he chimed in brightly, giving a small nod. – Just Artyom.

All eyes turned to Igor, who straightened as if gathering himself.

– Igor, he said calmly. – Programmer.

A silence followed, until Vadim broke it with a sneer.

– Well, there we are. One big happy family. What now, shall we play ‘who’s to blame’?

– If you’ve got a better idea, I’m listening, – Olga retorted, arms crossed, gaze fixed on him.

– Oh, so you like to be in charge, don’t you? – Vadim raised a brow, his tone mocking. – Everything by your rules?

– When chaos reigns, order is the only way to survive, – she cut him off, tilting her head.

– Ah, I see, – he drawled, derision thick in his voice. – Definitely not a team player.

– Enough, – Igor said quietly but firmly. His voice carried the weight to draw their attention. – We don’t have time for personal conflicts.

Olga cast one last sharp look at Vadim but fell silent.

Taking advantage of the pause, Katya voiced the question that had clearly haunted her from the start.

– Does anyone even understand how we got here?

– Maybe you were abducted by aliens? – Vadim smirked, but Katya paid him no attention.

– I… I don’t remember anything, – she went on. – It’s just a blank. What about you?

They exchanged glances. Anna shook her head silently, while Igor gave a slight nod, confirming his case was the same.

– A blackout, – Artyom finally said. – I was walking home, and then… it was as if the lights just went out.

– Same for me, – Katya added quickly.

– How convenient, – Vadim sneered, looking at Olga. – And you? Or are you going to control this too?

– No worse than your whining, – she shot back calmly.

Once again Igor stepped in to mediate.

– The point is, we’re not here by chance. I think this was all planned.

– You mean it’s an experiment? – Olga pressed.

Igor hesitated for a second, then nodded.

– Seems that way. We’ve been isolated, placed in conditions close to comfortable, but with obvious elements of control. It looks like part of some program. An algorithm.

His words hung in the air, and the silence that followed was louder than anything. Anna felt as though the room had shrunk around them.

– An experiment… – Katya exhaled the word as though it pierced right through her.

– Magnificent, – Vadim clapped his hands mockingly. – We’re rats in someone’s lab. So, shall we start running in circles?

Seeing the rising tension, Artyom tried once more to intervene.

– Well, if we’re rats, maybe it’s just a bad joke? Like a prank for some reality show?

He chuckled, but again no one shared his optimism. All eyes turned to Igor, as if waiting for him to go on. But he said nothing more. What he had already spoken was enough to unsettle them all.

Olga, arms folded, studied the room with a grim expression. Her gaze lingered again on the smooth blue walls—too perfect, as if crafted to sever them from reality. She stepped closer, laid her palm against the cold surface, and slowly traced along it, hoping to feel some imperfection.

– There must be a secret here, – she declared with certainty, as though convinced it was only a matter of time before hidden mechanisms revealed themselves.

She rapped her knuckles on the wall. The sound was dull, as if nothing lay beyond it. Dropping to her knees, she carefully examined the seam where wall met floor.

– There’s something here. I’m sure of it, – she insisted, her voice firm, though frustration seeped in as her search yielded nothing.

– Maybe stop wasting time? – Vadim muttered lazily, leaning against the door, his smirk mocking her persistence.

Olga ignored him, continuing her work.

– We need to check everything. Doors like this aren’t made just for decoration.

Vadim exhaled sharply, pushed off the door, and rammed it with his shoulder. Nothing. He shoved again, harder, but the door did not move.

– Well, we’re locked in, – he muttered, finally giving up. His irritation only deepened the tension in the room.

At last Anna raised her head. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke softly:

– Maybe we should think… about why we’re here?

Her voice was quiet, almost uncertain, but it was enough to still the room. Vadim turned, his smirk curling with near malice.

– Why we’re here? – he echoed, savoring the words. – Well then, perhaps you’ll tell us, oh great philosopher—why?

Anna flinched under his mocking gaze but said nothing.

– Let’s not start with that, – Igor interjected, casting Vadim a warning look. He stepped toward the wall opposite the door and stopped.

– There’s something here, – he said without turning.

– Where? – Olga was instantly alert, rising from the floor and joining him.

Igor pointed to a tiny mark, no bigger than a coin, set flush into the wall.

– A speaker, – he explained.

– A speaker? – Artyom leaned closer. – Think we can use it to reach someone? —

More likely it’s for someone to reach us, – Igor replied. – A way to monitor us. And maybe… communicate, if they wish.

His words struck a chord, a strange mix of hope and dread. Silence pressed in again. Anna noticed Olga’s lips tighten, as though refusing the role of a specimen.

So, what now? – Vadim said sarcastically, arms folded. – Do we wait for them to talk? Or keep knocking on walls?

The remark landed like a blow. No one answered. They stood frozen, watching the speaker, as if expecting it to come alive with a voice that would unveil secrets, provide answers.

But silence held—dense, suffocating.

Katya, nervously twisting the hem of her shirt, looked from face to face, her eyes glimmering with a childlike hope that someone might echo her thought.

– Maybe… maybe we were kidnapped? – she whispered. – Like in movies? For ransom, or

Her voice faltered. She saw Vadim roll his eyes, and she dropped her gaze.

If this were kidnapping, – Igor said slowly, still staring at the speaker, – we wouldn’t be here. All of this – he gestured around the room – is too deliberate.

Katya looked at him with unease.

– What do you mean?

– It feels like an experiment, – he repeated, thinking aloud. – We’re in a controlled environment. Conditions designed to keep us relatively safe—but under pressure.

An experiment? – Katya frowned.

– Psychological, – he clarified. – Maybe someone wants to study how we react to isolation. To stress.

Wonderful, – Vadim snorted, arms crossed. – All my life I dreamed of being a lab rat. Same as everyone here, I’m sure. A dream come true.

I still say it’s a reality show, – Artyom chimed in, forcing levity.

He sat on the edge of a bed, grinned broadly, and gestured toward the wall.

– Picture it: we’re stars of some secret project. Hidden cameras everywhere, live streaming us, and viewers betting on who breaks first.

Very funny, – Olga muttered, glaring at him.

– Why not? – Artyom pressed. – It all looks staged. These beds, that bar… Who builds an ‘experiment’ with such luxury? It’s a set.

His grin widened, but no one joined him. Katya shrank further into herself, while Igor’s gaze grew colder, as though Artyom’s suggestion was absurd.

We don’t have time for guessing, – Olga snapped, rising and heading once more for the door. Her footsteps echoed. She ran her hand over its surface, then turned sharply toward Vadim.

– Instead of spitting out your sarcasm, you could help.

Vadim chuckled without moving.

– Why not? But tell me—why bother? We’re not here to escape.

So what then? Just sit and wait? – Olga shot back.

Isn’t it obvious? – His tone turned more cutting. – We’re here for someone’s amusement. Maybe someone had a boring Friday.

The calmness with which he said it made the cynicism sting. Katya shuddered, and even Artyom’s smile faded.

You don’t know that, – Igor said coolly.

I do know, – Vadim sneered, leaning back against the wall, – that the harder you dig, the more foolish you look.

Olga clenched her jaw but chose not to reply. The silence returned—heavy, suffocating.

Then a piercing tone split the air.

It came so suddenly Katya cried out, clutching at Artyom, who instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Anna flinched, gripping the edge of the bedspread. Olga whirled toward the wall. Vadim winced, covering his ears.

Igor, frozen by the speaker, lifted his head and fixed his eyes on the faint mark. The tone faded into ragged static, harsh and uneven, like an old radio caught between stations.

All eyes locked on the wall, as if willing the source to reveal itself. Each one felt it: something important was about to happen.

Then the static broke into a voice—distorted, metallic. Stripped of emotion, machine-like, but every word sharp, deliberate, chilling.

Welcome.

The room froze, the tension so thick it seemed tangible. Even Vadim narrowed his eyes, his smirk gone.

Your game begins.

The voice cut off as abruptly as it had come. The static died, leaving the same oppressive silence.

Olga stepped closer, but the speaker was lifeless once more, blending back into the wall.

A game? Katya whispered, her voice trembling.

Vadim straightened, folding his arms, lips curling back into his sly grin.

– Well then, – he drawled, – things just got a whole lot more interesting.

No one answered. The words still hung in the air, heavier than before. They were more than an announcement—they were a signal. The beginning of something unknown, terrifying, beyond their control.

Anna sat motionless, her gaze darting among them, the air thick in her lungs. Olga pressed her lips tight and stepped back. Artyom glanced at Katya, now clutching his hand. Igor stood by the wall, frowning, as though searching for logic where none could be found.

The silence returned again. But now it was no longer hollow. It was the silence of waiting. Waiting for what would come next.

Chapter 2

The silence lay over the room like a heavy shroud when, suddenly, a voice broke through. It was steady, emotionless, belonging more to a machine than a man. The sound filled the space, echoing as if from every corner at once.

Welcome, participants. You are part of an experiment.

The voice was measured, each word delivered with mathematical precision. The group froze, straining to listen, trying at the same time to grasp the meaning hidden behind the words.

You are here because you meet the criteria essential to our research.

What research? – Olga—tall, her dark hair perfectly styled—was the first to break the silence. Her voice was laced with fury. – End this circus at once!

Your objections are irrelevant, – the voice replied, ignoring her tone. – The purpose of this experiment is the study of human nature.

The words unsettled them all. Each sensed something ominous in the explanation, though its meaning remained vague.

To fulfill the task, each of you must engage in intercourse with another participant of the opposite sex.

The silence was deafening.

What? – Anna—frail, long-haired, with wide brown eyes—cried out, unable to contain herself.

The act must conclude with orgasm. This is a mandatory condition.

The words struck like a slap. Olga let out a harsh, incredulous laugh.

– Are you insane? – she snapped. – We are not animals for your… your madness!

Refusal to comply will result in punishment, – the voice went on, ignoring their protests. – You are also required to complete other tasks that will be given throughout the experiment.

What kind of tasks? – Artyom’s freckled face and tousled hair betrayed his youth. His voice trembled despite his effort to sound calm.

Tasks may be individual or collective.

And what if we simply refuse? – Igor, the bespectacled man who had been silent until now, interjected.

Refusal is impossible. Punishment is inevitable. Should one participant drop out, a new one will take their place.

And if I refuse altogether—refuse everyone? – Olga would not yield, her gray eyes flashing with fury.

Her answer came in the form of a sharp, warning tone that reverberated painfully through their skulls.

Final warning, – the voice cut in. – Any attempts at sabotage will be dealt with severely.

The group fell silent. Each struggled to grasp what they’d heard, but the words seemed unreal. Anna huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around her knees. Katya, the youngest, bit her lip nervously, avoiding the others’ eyes. Artyom twisted the hem of his shirt in his hands, staring at the wall from which the voice seemed to emanate.

This is impossible, – Igor murmured, though conviction was absent from his tone.

It’s disgusting, – Katya whispered, her eyes downcast.

It violates every moral law! – Olga snapped, rising to her feet. Her gray eyes blazed with rage, her lips pressed into a hard line. – You have no right!

What rights, Olga? – Igor’s reply was unexpectedly calm. He adjusted his glasses, buying a moment to collect his thoughts. – We’re all prisoners here. We have no choice.

You’re suggesting we just submit? – Olga turned on him, her voice sharp as a blade.

Yes. Submit—or at least stop provoking whoever’s holding us here. They’re clearly not joking.

Submit? – Olga’s look of contempt was enough to crush. – Why not just lie down and obey? That would be convenient, wouldn’t it?

I never said it was convenient, – Igor retorted evenly. – I’m talking about survival.

Survival? – Olga laughed harshly, her voice hollow. – Did you even hear what they’re demanding? This isn’t an experiment—it’s cruelty!

We all heard, – Vadim cut in, his voice level but tinged with frost. – But maybe Igor’s right. We need to figure out what they want from us. Then think about escape.

Oh, another hero, – Olga scoffed, swinging to face him. – You want to be a good boy too?

I want to stay alive, – Vadim said flatly, his gray-green eyes glinting with menace. – If you thought about more than your pride, you’d see it’s the only rational approach.