I signed up for a two-week clinical trial. Fifteen hundred dollars for a controlled stay, a few harmless tests, a chance to claw my way out of debt. I didn't read the fine print. Inside Room 7, there are no clocks, no windows, no names. Just a sterile white cell, a blinking red camera, and commands that must be obeyed. Sit. Stand. Strip. Smile. Fail, and the room corrects you. Obey, and it whispers approval that tastes like salvation.
Each day, the rules tighten. My old life, my name, my choices, my debts, fades beneath the glow of the monitor. Compliance isn't just expected; it's measured. Rewarded. Perfected. And somewhere along the way, I stop longing to leave. A chilling descent into psychological captivity, PROPERTY OF ROOM 7 explores how easily a mind can be broken, and how willingly it might surrender.
I signed up for a two-week clinical trial. Fifteen hundred dollars for a controlled stay, a few harmless tests, a chance to claw my way out of debt. I didn't read the fine print. Inside Room 7, there are no clocks, no windows, no names. Just a sterile white cell, a blinking red camera, and commands that must be obeyed. Sit. Stand. Strip. Smile. Fail, and the room corrects you. Obey, and it whispers approval that tastes like salvation.
Each day, the rules tighten. My old life, my name, my choices, my debts, fades beneath the glow of the monitor. Compliance isn't just expected; it's measured. Rewarded. Perfected. And somewhere along the way, I stop longing to leave. A chilling descent into psychological captivity, PROPERTY OF ROOM 7 explores how easily a mind can be broken, and how willingly it might surrender.