He opened his eyes to a dimly lit room.
It was void of all furniture except the uncomfortable wooden chair he was strapped into by cold, metallic shackles. His neck ached; he must’ve been asleep for far too long, allowing his head to hang loose in front of his torso. He tried to stretch his neck to ease the pain, but the wooden headrest and the harnesses kept him from reaching a satisfying position. This irritated him more than the fact that he woke up stuck to what seemed like an electric chair in an unknown place for who knows what. This was strange, considering he couldn’t even remember who he was.
Upon closer inspection, however, he found that the wooden chair wasn’t just a wooden chair; on the left armrest that his left forearm was secured to, a dial ran from 0 to 10. On the right armrest was a small, black button, the size of a pea. It was around this point, about 5 minutes after waking up, that he felt his first shock.
It wasn’t a terrible shock, just a minor one. He could feel the electricity coursing through his body for a brief second. It didn’t hurt at all, but this only led to his body itching. The shock was exactly in that uncomfortable zone where the body would rather experience pain than this meek feeling. When he woke up, he thought the discomfort of the wooden chair would be bothersome, but this recent experience proved otherwise; at least the pain in his neck was gone.
The shock proved to be good in one respect, however: it got him to question why he was there. Had he done something wrong? Was this punishment? If so, what did he do wrong? After concluding that there was no way to get an answer at this current moment, he focused on the dials and the buttons. It seemed to be built into the chair, with the dials and the buttons fixed directly on the armrest. The dial was pointed at 0; he supposed that was the default setting. Now, the question of the button. Were the two connected in some way? Perhaps the dial controlled what the button did if he were to press the button. But who knows what the button did?
He pondered these questions for about two minutes. Unbeknownst to him, his body was tensing up, yearning for another shock to relieve him of this monotonous room. His fists were clenched, his leg shook as much as it could in those shackles, and his abdomen was tightening by the second. His breathing shallowed.
After what felt like an eternity of restlessness, he pressed the button out of impulse. It was a quick tap, soft but exact. The fact that he did something, tried something, released him from that terror that was gripping him. By pressing that button, he no longer felt helpless, or powerless – he was able to do something, after all. After realizing that the button didn’t do him any harm, he tapped on it a few more times in quick succession.
He sat there, simultaneously satisfied by his attempt at doing something, and disappointed that his situation hadn’t changed. He still couldn’t remember who he was, where he was, and why he was here. He was trying to imagine what sort of situation could’ve brought him here. Was he a criminal? A gambler? A regular joe who was kidnapped? After going through the possibilities – at least those he could think of – he realized that his identity had very little impact on the current situation. Whether he can get out was not a function of what’s already past, but what he was going to do. Given this, he started pondering what the end goal of all this was. He searched around the room for clues, anything that could help him gather information about what was going on.
Then came three distinct shocks, this time a bit stronger than the first shock. It still wasn’t painful, but now came a clear sense of discomfort, as his muscles slightly twitched at the sudden sensation. But he wasn’t distressed; rather, he was delighted. Those were three distinct shocks; perfectly timed and rhythmical. That was a human being sending those spurts of electricity. Was it a response? If it was, why did it take so long?
As if to answer every question that was on his mind, what he presumed to be a speaker whirled to life, creating that soft buzzing noise all electronics produce when turned on. A welcome message played, with static interrupting in between.
“Hello, participant [static]. First, we apologize for the late greeting message; we seemed to have some technical [static] regarding our sound system.
“We would like to assure you that though this is an automated [static] facility, we are keeping constant [static]. We would also like to assure you that you have signed [static] form consenting to momentary amnesia for anonymity and [static] of the study.
“Here is a brief [static] of the study: you will be held in the chair for [static], during which you will receive [static] based on your actions. What these actions are and what the [static], for the purpose of the study, [static] you.
“The rules are simple; you [static] choose to react to the shocks or not. You can react to [static] via the dial on your left and the button on the right; the dial controls intensity [static], and the button controls the [static]. Or, you can do nothing.
“For safety purposes, please do not turn the dial above [static].
“Our systems indicate that you have already [static] the button ‘SEVEN.’ times and have received ‘FIVE.’ shocks – including the [static] administered at [static] to wake you up. You have ‘FORTY. EIGHT.’ minutes [static]. Again, [static].”
After this, the speaker turned off, leaving him in a state of pure disappointment. What promised answers only left more questions; sure, he knew that he was part of an experiment, but to not know anything else – what the rules of the game were, what the button really did – was more frustrating than not knowing anything at all.
He picked at the button with his fingers, being careful not to press it. He played around with the dial, realizing that it catches for a brief moment at 7; he assumed that this meant that any value over 7 was dangerous. Time passed as he continued to think about the consequences of pressing the button. He mindlessly turned the dial to 3.
He wondered which one of the two objects, the dial or the button, contributed to the shocks. It seemed almost as if the shocks came in set time intervals, every five minutes.
Just as he thought this, a moderately painful shock spasmed through his body. It felt like one of those handshake shockers that pranksters used, except a bit more intense and thorough. An unpleasant vibration shook him, and his right arm tried to fly up, hit the shackle, and fell back down, leaving an uncomfortable ache in his right wrist.
He started thinking about what was going on; the only conclusion he could come to after a series of questions and occam’s razors was that there was some other participant in the same predicament, and the button controls their shock. That’s why the dial shouldn’t be increased above a 7, and that’s why there was a method of reaction; the study must be looking at how people react to wrongs done through anonymity. He decided to call truce and not press the button at all.
But the shocks still came. After about four shocks, he was fed up. He slowly turned the dial up to a 6, then held the button for about two seconds. He thought that would send the proper message. And he thought it did; for about six minutes, there were no shocks. And then:
Those four seconds felt like an eternity. His entire body shook with pain and crashed into the metal shackles struggling to hold him in place. His head shook, bouncing his brain around his skull. And while the muscles went through terrifying, bone-breaking seizures, as his organs burned, his entire body tensed up, pressing his torso and legs tightly against the leather straps. His eyes watered; he almost bit his tongue.
Out of rage, and pure fury, he dialed up to 10 and pressed the button for ten long seconds. His breath shook and his hand shivered as he pressed on the button firmly, until his finger hurt. It was as if he believed that pressing the button more firmly led to a stronger shock. He did this with the intent to kill.
For ten minutes, there was peace as he collected himself. He figured that, at this point, the other participant would’ve died, and the people running the experiment would come to get them out. He would think he would have no liability, since this was a decision made under extreme distress caused by those who were experimenting.
At the end of those ten minutes, he started feeling that same uneasiness again, but this time, it was concerning release. He was sure that the hour was almost up. He started thinking about the things he would do when he would finally make that delighted egress; he would at first go to those in charge and ask them what this was all about.
But just as the hour drew to a close, he heard it before he felt it. It was the sound of a generator revving up, a tesla coil underneath working to build up enough voltage to release into his body. At that moment, he thought, no, no, NO! I KILLED HIM! IT SHOULD’VE KILLED HIM!
The intense shock caused him to faint, every muscle in his body burning, his inner organs melting, his mind fried.
He opened his eyes to a dimly lit room.
The Rug 
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