Title: Follow the Program
Author: Taplay
Kira knew she needed to get out of here. That much was obvious. The matter of how… well, that would take some time to figure out. She didn’t even know how she’d ended up here. Waking up alone in a windowless room isn’t exactly the most pleasant thing in the world. Not to mention her outfit. It definitely wasn’t what she had been wearing before. She’s wearing a top that can barely be considered a shirt only barely keeps her boobs concealed, which somehow feels more revealing than if her chest was simply exposed. And around her hips was a pair of shorts so tight it was practically a second skin, along with a pair of tights that went up to her thighs, leaving a few inches of skin showing between them. Kira gets out of the bed and searches the limited contents in the room. She didn’t find anything revealing, just enough for her basic necessities. Her bed, a small minimalist bathroom, and a desk. She notices a camera in one of the upper corners of the room. Taking a piece of paper and some tape off the desk, she stands up on the bed and covers the camera. It’s a small act of defiance, but at that point, she didn’t see what else she can do.
After searching around the room for anything she could use for a while, Kira noticed the music that was playing. She hadn’t noticed it before. It was the kind of soft, atmospheric music that just lingers in the background of any setting that you’d only notice when you’re really thinking about it. Otherwise, it just fades into the background. It feels like an odd addition to Kira. Why not just leave her in silence? Shrugging, Kira put it out of her mind. The music was hardly her most pressing concern.
Kira tries to keep track of the time, but without a clock or even any view outside, all attempts to track the age of time prove futile. Even attempting to track the repetitions of the music doesn’t work out. It’s difficult for her to keep her mind on it, and Kira was never able to find where it starts or ends. So she doesn’t know how much time had ed before hearing a soft click from the door. She looks at it with suspicion, her concentration on the music broken once again. Shaking her head, Kira gives up on trying to track the music. It feels like it’s only getting harder for her to focus on it. Letting out a sigh, she stood up off the bed again and walked over to the door. Testing the handle, she finds it unlocked.
“Well, it’s better than nothing…” Kira muttered to herself after weighing her options. Staying in the room would probably be safer, but she doesn’t see anything she’ll gain if she stays in. But who knows what awaits her outside. At this point, she’s willing to put up with a bit of risk. She pushes down on the handle, and the door swings open for her.
Outside of her room is a hallway. Just a normal hallway you’d find in any office building. Kira didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but she had an image in her head of something a little more dark and sinister. But it seems to be well lit, with doors matching hers. Still no windows she could see, unfortunately, so still no obvious way she could get out. At both ends of the hall, it turns a corner, and there’s nothing on the walls. She decides to go to the right, trying all of the doors she walks by, and a finding all of them locked. She tries knocking on the first few, but gets no answer, so she gives up on finding help from anyone else who might be trapped here. It was a faint hope, but worth trying for.
Kira begins walking down the hall, feeling a bit of discomfort at how monotonous it all is. At some point, her mind starts to follow the music again. It feels like there’s something different to it, and when she listened to it in the room, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. With nothing else to do, she tries to focus on listening to it to figure out what’s different about it. She found it had a way of getting into her head. At first, she tried to keep it out, but the more Kira listened to it, the better it felt. The music wasn’t so bad once she had gotten used to it. She could almost make out some words in it, but couldn’t derive any words from it. Those words felt important, somehow. At some point, Kira found herself humming along with the music as she explored the hallway.
It was eerie, walking through these hallways all alone. And Kira somehow had the feeling that there should be more people here filling the halls. More girls, all in uniforms matching hers, efficiently moving through the halls as they go about their various tasks. Blank looks on their faces as they obediently follow the programming filling their weak and compliant minds, and letting themselves be conditioned deeper into complete submission by-
Kira stopped, jolting herself out of her reverie. Why had she been envisioning that in so much detail? It felt… it felt almost real. But she swore she had never been here before. And all those girls. Were they all in the other rooms? But then why didn’t she get any answer? There’s something strange going on here. All those girls she had imagined… that all looked so compliant. Did they all just wake up in a room, and decide it was best to work here for their mysterious captors? Or was it blackmail? But no one had come to Kira with any kind of demands of compliance. At this point, she’d welcome any kind of human interaction. That was something else about the girls she’d been envisioning. They didn’t seem human. There was no animation coming from them or even signs of emotion. They were almost robotic, like they were drones serving some higher purpose.
Kira knew that realization should’ve terrified her, or at least given her some kind of anxiety. She knew that must be the fate that was planned for her. But all of her attempts a fear or even mild worry simply fell flat. She… she was strangely intrigued by the prospect of it.
“Why do I want this? I don’t want to be a drone… do I?”
There was more to the music now, Kira realized. She had gotten used to not paying attention to it, but there were more words in it now. And she could begin to understand some of them.
“Drone… Empty… Obey… Submit… Blank… Mindless…”
Kira wanted to resist. She wanted to be scared and redouble her efforts to get out of this place. But she couldn’t. She felt her walking become steadier and uniform, matching the rhythm of all the girls… no, the drones she had seen. She was becoming just like them. The music was seeping deeper into her mind, the words embedded in it gaining more power over her. The notion of being an emotionless drone, working perfectly in tandem with a countless number of similarly programmed drones was so seductive to her now. She tried in vain to resist that temptation. Cover her ears, speeding up her walking, even just humming any tune just to drown out the captivating music. But it was all in vain. The subliminals are too deeply ingrained in Kira’s mind. Her own mind was working against her now, working to find every possible weakness and vulnerability in her fleeting resistance. She was being programmed, her mind and thoughts being rewritten to the parameters of submission and unquestioning obedience. But… she had to resist. She had to find some way to stop this. But… she was being programmed. People aren’t programmed. Drones are programmed. Drones submit. Drones obey. Drones comply.
“Submit… obey… comply… give in…” The subliminals continue to drill deeper into her mind.
Kira shook her head with more vigor, letting her get through some of the fog and fuzz crowding her thoughts, only for it to quickly begin creeping back in. She was losing more of herself now. Memories were fading away, being replaced with tasks and instructions. Emotion being pushed out in favor of cold and calculating logic. She was being given a sole, single purpose: obedience. Her purpose must be fulfilled.
Kira’s resistance was failing, but there was still a part of her that was able to barely hold out. She could feel the fringes of her identity fraying, but she clung to the core of herself that was her last bastion of resistance. Maybe she could hold on to that last part of herself, and pretend to be a fully programmed and compliant drone until she found some chance to escape…
At that moment, a pure note cuts through the music. It’s high, almost out of audible range, and not very loud, but unmistakable. Kira barely had time to process this or puzzle over what it could mean before every door in the hallway opened all at once.
This instant display of mass obedience from so many programmed drones all in the same instant imprinted itself in her brain. All of those girls must have resisted once. They were all put through this process of slowly being programmed and converted. Having all traces of their will and individuality cut away. This fate was inevitable.
“I- You all- I can’t… let myself… I’m… I’m… I’m…”
Ki- the girl… her name escaped her now. That last part of her identity and individuality. She tried desperately to cling to it. She hadn’t realized how much of her resistance had centered around her ability to retain her own name and identity. But now that it was finally being pulled away from her, she felt a void inside of her, one that she desperately needed filled. It was a lack of purpose and sense of self. And the subliminals were all primed to fill that emptiness for her. To give her a new identity and purpose. One tailored to her secret controller’s needs and desires. And she was becoming so desperate for any kind of direction or sense of self that she would welcome this insidious programming that would instill absolute and unthinking obedience eagerly and with open arms.
While her identity and resistance crumbled inside of her, the rest of the drones stepped out of their rooms as one. Each one has their programmed task, and this demonstration of compliance all around her shows the girl exactly what is expected of her. Instant obedience, no time to consider or think, just perfect and absolute submission to the programming that is swiftly becoming the core of her identity. The girl simply watched, unable to do anything else with no orders to follow. She could see the even lines marching through the halls, just like she had seen in her own mind before. Even then, a small part of her longed to be part of the unity and efficiency. But that desire was nothing to what she felt now. She needed to have a role, to be a part in this vast machine.
Fortunately, one had already been prepared for her. The procedure for inducting a new drone into the fold were highly refined at this point, and there were always more duties to be done. The newly programmed drone could see a spot… her spot coming up in one of the lines. A gap made just for her. One that would let her fulfill her purpose and obey her programming. She smoothly stepped into her place in the procession.
The whole day ed in a blissful blur for the drone. She didn’t have to think about anything. Her body simply obeyed. Her mind was simply left in neutral, and with no stimuli to spur her thinking, everything simply slid past it, bying her mind completely. Good drones don’t need to think. Good drones simply follow and obey. The whole time, the music and its embedded subliminals drilled her conditioning and programming ever deeper into her mind. Making sure she’ll never think an independent thought again, let alone break free. Even the very concept of freedom is becoming unthinkable to the drone.
After an unknown amount of time and work, the drone returned to her room. While her mind was locked in a perpetual state of trance and required no rest, her body needed nourishment and time to recover. And nothing was more likely to jar her mind out of its comfortable indolence than her body being given ill treatment. Of course, her controllers had ed for this and long since worked it into their programming. There would be no chance for resistance to form or grow, and every moment spent in trance would make it that much more difficult for her mind to awaken and her identity to recover. Assuming she ever even got a chance for that.
While earlier, the drone had thought her room was lacking and boring, now she saw that it was perfectly designed to fit her needs. She walked to the camera she had covered, and tore away the paper that was blocking it from view. Drones do not get embarrassed. Drones have no need to hide. Drones should be seen. Drones must obey.
And so she did, just as she was programmed to do. The drone had lost all concept of her own desires and individuality. She was now just a nameless cog in the every growing machinery of this place. And for all of the new drones that would be brought in, she would demonstrate her perfect and unthinking obedience. This was her purpose now, all she would ever have to do in her life.