The Summoning
In the middle of a normal day, 100 people from all over the world suddenly found themselves in a dark, endless void. Confusion and fear gripped them as they tried to make sense of their new surroundings. A towering figure, cloaked in shadows, emerged from the darkness. The figure’s presence was overwhelming, emanating an aura that silenced the murmurs of the gathered crowd.
“I am a god,” the figure declared, its voice echoing in the void. “You have been summoned here for a reason. Each of you will be given a hotel room, numbered from 1 to 100. You will remain there for 24 hours.”
A murmur of confusion rippled through the group. Why had they been chosen? What were they supposed to do in these rooms? The god offered no further explanation, instead continuing with a cryptic smile.
“You will enter your rooms based on the battery percentage of your phones. The higher the percentage, the higher the room number you will be placed in. The timer will begin now.”
Before anyone could ask more questions, a large digital timer appeared in the sky, counting down from ten seconds. Panic surged through the group as they frantically checked their phones, realizing the strange criteria for their room assignments. Alan, a 24-year-old from Indonesia, stared at his phone screen. The battery was at 100%.
The timer hit zero, and the world around Alan warped, the figures of the other people blurring out of existence. He blinked, and when his vision cleared, he found himself standing in a hotel room. The room was eerily quiet, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. Alan took a deep breath and looked around, noticing six other people in the room, all of whom were just as bewildered as he was.
They were all strangers, yet the shared sense of confusion and unease connected them in that moment. The room was spacious but minimalistic, with a large window offering a view of a dark, stormy sky. A single table stood in the center, with seven chairs arranged around it.
Alan made the first move, taking a seat at the table. The others followed suit, each seemingly trying to make sense of the situation. As they sat down, the tension in the room thickened, the weight of the unknown pressing down on them.
One of the others, a young woman with a determined look in her eyes, broke the silence. “Does anyone have any idea what’s going on?” she asked in a heavy French accent.
No one had an answer. Alan, feeling the need to speak up, said, “My name is Alan, I’m from Indonesia. I think… maybe we should introduce ourselves first.”
One by one, the others introduced themselves, sharing their names and where they were from. Each of them had a different story, a different reason for having a fully charged phone. The introductions did little to ease the tension, but it was a start. They were seven strangers in a mysterious hotel room, brought together by a god for reasons unknown.
As the seconds ticked by, the weight of the situation settled in. They had 24 hours in this room, but what were they supposed to do? The answer was out of reach, hidden in the shadows, just like the god who had brought them here.
Alan glanced at the clock on the wall. Time was passing, but to what end? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but one thing was clear: whatever was happening, they were in it together.
The Strangers in Room 100
The air in the room was thick with uncertainty as the seven strangers sat around the table, each grappling with the bizarre situation they found themselves in.
The young woman who had spoken first looked around the table, her eyes landing on each person in turn. “I’m Leona,” she said, her French accent clear. “I’m 25, from France. This whole situation is… strange, to say the least.”
Next to her, a woman with dark hair and an intense gaze spoke up. “Nika,” she said. “I’m from Burma.” Her voice was steady, but there was a hint of tension in her posture, as if she was already planning her next move.
A young man with short-cropped hair and a casual demeanor leaned back in his chair, his British accent cutting through the silence. “Mahmoud,” he introduced himself. “I’m from Britain. Honestly, I’ve got no clue what’s going on, but I guess we’ll figure it out.”
Alan nodded at each introduction, trying to piece together any possible connections between them. So far, it seemed completely random.
The next person to speak was a man with a strong build and a serious expression. “Arzak,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. “I’m 27, from Turkey.” His words were few, but his presence was commanding, as if he was used to taking charge.
Beside him, a man with a laid-back demeanor and an Australian accent smiled slightly. “Albert, from Australia. Well, this is definitely not what I expected to happen today,” he said with a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, though it did little to ease the tension.
The last person was a young boy, barely in his teens. His wide eyes darted nervously between the others before he finally spoke. “Hassan,” he said quietly. “I’m 15, from the U.S.” His voice trembled slightly, revealing his fear.
Alan glanced around the table, taking in the group. They were all so different, from different parts of the world, with different lives. Yet here they were, brought together by some mysterious force. What could possibly connect them?
Leona broke the silence again, her voice more determined now. “We need to figure out why we’re here. Maybe there’s something in this room that can give us a clue.”
The others nodded in agreement, and they began to search the room, examining every corner for anything that might explain their situation. The room was sparse, with only the table, chairs, and a few pieces of furniture. A large mirror hung on one wall, reflecting their anxious faces back at them.
As they searched, Alan couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, that this was some kind of test. But a test of what? And who was this god that had summoned them?
They were seven strangers in a room, with no instructions and no idea what would happen next. The clock on the wall continued to tick, counting down the 24 hours they had been given. Alan knew that time was of the essence, but what were they supposed to do?
As the minutes passed, the sense of urgency grew. They needed answers, but the only way to find them was to work together, despite their differences. Whatever challenge lay ahead, they would face it as a group, united by the strange twist of fate that had brought them here.
The Realization
Alan felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as he stared at his phone. The signal bar was empty, and the Wi-Fi icon had a slash through it—no signal, no internet. He quickly glanced around the room, seeing if the others had noticed the same thing.
Mahmoud was already fiddling with his phone, a look of frustration on his face. “No signal here either,” he muttered, confirming Alan’s fear.
Alan stood up and walked to the door, hoping to find a way out. But when he reached it, he realized something strange. The door wasn’t just locked—it was as if it had been molded into the wall itself, a seamless part of the room. There was no handle, no visible keyhole, just an imposing slab of wood that seemed more like a barrier than an exit.
He pushed against it, but the door didn’t budge. “It’s like it’s sealed shut,” Alan said, more to himself than to anyone else.
Leona joined him, inspecting the door closely. “This is… not normal,” she said, running her fingers along the edge where the door met the wall. “It’s like it’s been welded in place.”
Alan stepped back, his mind racing. He turned his attention to the rest of the room. There was only one bed, neatly made with a pillow and blanket. A small toilet was tucked away in a corner, its plumbing functional. But as Alan scanned the room, something crucial was missing—there was no food, no fridge, nothing that suggested they would be sustained during their stay.
A chilling thought struck him, and he quickly turned to the others. “There’s no food here,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “No fridge, no snacks, nothing.”
The others looked around, realization dawning on them as well. Arzak frowned, his brows knitting together. “You’re right. This place is supposed to be a hotel, but it’s like… it’s designed to keep us in here, not to take care of us.”
Nika’s eyes narrowed as she spoke up. “So, what? The god who brought us here expects us to survive without food? What kind of test is this?”
Albert leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Maybe it’s more than just survival. Maybe we’re supposed to figure something out before… well, before it’s too late.”
Hassan, who had been quiet until now, looked at Alan with wide eyes. “What are we going to do?”
Alan felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. The god had left them with no food, no way to contact the outside world, and no obvious means of escape. The situation was dire, but Alan knew that panicking wouldn’t help them.
“We need to stay calm,” Alan said, taking charge. “We have 24 hours. Let’s use that time to figure out what’s going on. There has to be something in this room that can help us. We just need to find it.”
The group nodded, determination replacing some of the fear in their eyes. They began to search the room more thoroughly, checking every inch for hidden clues, anything that might give them a way out—or at least, an understanding of what they were facing.
As Alan moved to help, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The god had left them without food for a reason, and whatever that reason was, they would have to discover it—and quickly.
The Observers
In a dimly lit room far removed from the hotel, two figures stood before a wall of monitors, each screen displaying a different room within the mysterious hotel. The flickering light from the screens cast eerie shadows across their faces, though both were hidden behind dark hoods and masks, their identities obscured.
The taller of the two leaned closer to one of the monitors, his voice a low, menacing whisper. “Look at hotel 34,” he said, his tone laced with cruel amusement. “The woman’s already being raped by three other boys.”
The other figure, slightly shorter but just as imposing, nodded, a hint of disdain in his voice. “Such animal behavior,” he muttered, though there was no real disgust in his tone—only cold observation.
They moved to another screen, where a woman was huddled in the corner of a room, her body wracked with sobs. “And number 87,” the taller one continued. “She’s crying all alone, completely broken.”
The shorter figure chuckled softly. “Pathetic. But it’s not surprising.”
Their attention then shifted to another screen, one showing a room filled with seven individuals, all seemingly on edge. “What really interests me is room 100,” the taller man said, his voice tinged with curiosity. “It’s the highest number of people crammed into one room, and they’re starting to panic. I wonder what will happen to them.”
The shorter man leaned in, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. “They’re interesting, alright. They haven’t turned on each other yet. But give it time. Fear has a way of bringing out the worst in people.”
Suddenly, on the screen displaying room 100, the boy named Hassan glanced upward, his gaze locking onto something just above him. The taller figure straightened, his posture tense. “Hey, that boy… he’s looking at the camera. He noticed it!”
The shorter man let out a low whistle. “Sharp kid. This is getting interesting.”
The two figures exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable beneath their masks. “Should we interfere?” the taller one asked, his fingers hovering over a series of buttons on the control panel in front of him.
The shorter man shook his head. “No, let’s see how this plays out. Room 100 might just give us something worth watching.”
They fell silent, their attention now fully focused on the screen displaying room 100. The occupants of the room were unaware of the unseen eyes watching their every move, the sinister forces observing their struggle. And as the seconds ticked by, the tension in both the room and the observation chamber grew.
Whatever was going to happen in room 100, it was clear that the observers wouldn’t miss a second of it.
The Discovery in Room 100
Alan turned sharply at Hassan’s shout, his heart pounding in his chest. The others quickly followed his gaze, all eyes landing on the young boy who was pointing excitedly at a small, barely noticeable hole in the wall just above the bed.
“What is it?” Leona asked, moving closer to get a better look.
Hassan, his voice trembling with a mix of excitement and fear, pointed more directly. “There’s a tiny hole here. It’s small, but… why would it be there? It doesn’t make sense. I mean, there’s nothing else in this room—no food, no way out. But this hole… it’s weird, right?”
Alan frowned, stepping closer to inspect the hole himself. It was indeed small, maybe the size of a pencil tip, and seemed almost deliberately placed. The edges were smooth, too precise to be accidental. He felt a chill run down his spine.
“That’s… strange,” Alan murmured, his mind racing. “It’s almost like… like someone put it here on purpose.”
Nika leaned in, her expression tense. “Do you think it could be a camera? Someone could be watching us.”
The room fell into an uneasy silence as the possibility sank in. Albert shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “If that’s true… then someone’s been watching us this whole time. But why? And who?”
Arzak, ever the pragmatist, stepped forward and ran his fingers over the hole. “It’s too small to see anything through from our side. But if it’s a camera… then they can see everything we’re doing.”
Leona’s face paled at the thought. “Are we being tested? Or… are they just watching for their own sick amusement?”
Alan’s mind flashed back to the god’s cryptic words and the strange circumstances that had brought them all here. “It’s possible. We don’t know what this is all about, but if someone’s watching us, we need to be careful. We don’t know their intentions.”
Hassan, still staring at the hole, whispered, “What do we do now?”
Alan took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “We keep looking for clues, but we need to be aware that someone might be observing us. Let’s stay calm and figure this out together. We can’t let fear control us.”
The group exchanged uneasy glances, but they nodded in agreement. Alan could see the fear in their eyes, but also a resolve. Whoever was behind that hole, they wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing them break.
As they continued to search the room, the small hole in the wall served as a constant reminder that they were not alone—and that their every move might be part of a twisted game they were only beginning to understand.
Alan’s Plan
One hour had passed, and the tension in the room was palpable. The group had searched every corner, but there were no more clues to be found. With no food, no exit, and nothing but the ticking clock to remind them of the time slipping away, everyone had settled into different spots around the room, lost in their own thoughts.
Alan, however, wasn’t content to sit idly by. His mind was racing, trying to come up with something—anything—that might help them make contact with whoever or whatever was watching them. Then, an idea struck him.
He quickly pulled out his phone and began typing a message. His fingers moved swiftly over the screen, crafting a simple plea for help:
“We know you’re watching. What do you want from us? Please, give us a sign.”
He stared at the message for a moment, hoping that somehow, this might reach the people behind the camera. Alan walked over to the small hole in the wall, the one Hassan had pointed out earlier, and carefully held his phone up to it, angling the screen so the message could be read from the other side.
Leona, who had been sitting quietly on the bed, noticed Alan’s actions and frowned. “Hey, what are you doing?” she asked, standing up and walking over to him.
Alan turned to her, his expression serious. “I’m trying to communicate with whoever’s watching us,” he explained. “If they’ve put cameras in here, maybe they’ll see this message. Maybe they’ll respond.”
Leona considered this, her brow furrowed in thought. “Do you really think that’ll work? I mean, if they wanted to talk to us, wouldn’t they have done it already?”
“Maybe,” Alan admitted, “but we’re running out of options. We’ve searched the room, and there’s nothing else here. We need to at least try to reach out. If there’s even a small chance that they’ll respond, it’s worth it.”
Leona glanced at the others, who were now watching them closely. The idea seemed to spark some hope, a small flicker of something to focus on in the midst of their growing despair.
Albert, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, shrugged. “It’s as good a plan as any. At least we’re doing something.”
Nika nodded in agreement. “If someone is watching, they might react. We have to try.”
Alan kept his phone steady, holding it up to the hole for several minutes. The room fell silent, everyone waiting with bated breath, hoping for some kind of response.
But the minutes ticked by with no change. No sound, no movement—nothing. Alan’s arm began to ache, but he didn’t lower the phone, determined to keep trying.
Finally, Leona touched his arm gently. “You’ve done your best,” she said softly. “Maybe they’ll see it, but we can’t know for sure. Let’s keep thinking, okay?”
Alan nodded reluctantly, lowering the phone. “Yeah… maybe,” he said, though disappointment weighed heavily in his voice.
The group resumed their positions around the room, the hope of a response fading as the clock continued its relentless countdown. Alan’s message had been sent, but whether anyone would answer remained to be seen.
And all the while, the small hole in the wall stared back at them, an ever-present reminder that they were being watched, even if those watching chose to remain silent.
Twelve Hours In
Twelve hours had passed. Alan blinked awake, disoriented. He didn’t even remember when he had fallen asleep. The oppressive silence of the room weighed on him, and a gnawing hunger twisted in his stomach. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around.
The others were in various states of wakefulness. Some were slumped against the walls, their faces drawn with exhaustion and hunger. Leona was curled up on the bed, her eyes half-closed, while Nika sat nearby, staring blankly at the wall. Mahmoud and Arzak were quietly discussing something in a corner, their voices too low to make out. Albert leaned against the door, his expression unreadable, while Hassan had just come out of the small toilet, wiping his mouth.
Alan’s eyes followed Hassan, and he realized what the boy had done. He had drunk water from the tap, the only source of sustenance in the room. Alan’s throat felt dry, and his stomach growled in response. He knew he had to do the same.
Slowly, Alan got up and made his way to the toilet. The small space was unremarkable, just a simple basin with a tap. He turned the tap on, letting the cool water flow. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if the water was safe. But the gnawing hunger and thirst were too much to ignore. He cupped his hands under the stream and drank deeply.
The water was refreshing, soothing the dryness in his throat, but it did little to ease the hunger that gnawed at his insides. Alan drank more, hoping to stave off the growing discomfort. As he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked back at the others.
Everyone seemed to be in the same state, hungry, tired, and uncertain. The initial panic and curiosity had given way to a heavy, oppressive silence. The hours had dragged on, and still, no one had come. The small hole in the wall remained as mysterious as ever, and Alan’s message on his phone had gone unanswered.
Alan returned to his spot and sat down, trying to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. He looked around at the others, their faces pale and drawn. They were all waiting, hoping for some kind of miracle or at least an explanation.
But as the hours stretched on, Alan knew that the situation was becoming more dire. The god who had brought them here had given them no instructions, no food, and no way out. They were trapped, and time was running out.
“Everyone okay?” Alan asked, his voice rough from disuse. He knew it was a pointless question, but he needed to break the silence.
Leona nodded weakly, though she didn’t look at him. “Just… hungry,” she murmured.
“We all are,” Albert added, his tone resigned.
Alan leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. They had twelve hours left. He knew they needed to find a way out, but with every passing hour, their chances seemed to grow slimmer.
Still, Alan refused to give up. He opened his eyes, looking at the small hole in the wall again, wondering if anyone was really watching. If there was, maybe there was still a chance they could do something—anything—to get out of this nightmare.
