Nap Time

“Wait a minute,” Trista said. “We’re not allowed in here, are we?”

“Nope,” Kim said, swiping her key card over the access panel beside the door.

To Trista’s surprise, but not to Kim’s, the lock indicator silently changed from red to green. Kim pushed open the door and gestured for Trista to go inside. Trista didn’t move, instead giving her a friend a bemused stare.

“So what if we’re not allowed?” Kim said. “I figured out how to program the master codes into my key. I can get into any room. I’ve been in here many times. No one knows or cares. Now go in already.”

Trista started to shake her head in dissent, but Kim took her by the arm and dragged her into the room. The door swung noiselessly shut behind them.

“Isn’t this cool?” Kim asked.

“Um…” Trista said, surveying the small, dimly lit space they now stood in.

The room housed a plush armchair permanently set in a reclining position, a workstation against one wall, a desk chair in front of the workstation, and what looked like a high-tech recording console against the opposite wall. Between the furnishings, there was just enough room for one person to walk. Aside from a lightswitch by the door, nothing adorned the walls. A light fixture with a diffusing cover sat in the center of the ceiling.

“Well, I think it’s cool,” Kim said.

“Sure, it’s cool,” Trista said. “I just wasn’t expecting...I mean, it’s just so...when you said you found a place to take naps, I figured you meant an old storage room with a couch or a cot in it. This is...not that at all.”

“I know! Isn’t it great?” Kim said.

“Yeah, I guess.” Trista said. “That definitely looks more comfortable than a ratty old sofa or fold-up bed.”

“Oh, it is, it is,” Kim said, kicking off her sneakers and then peeling off her socks.

“What are you doing?” Trista asked.

“You don’t scuff up a nice chair like this with your dirty shoes,” Kim said. “Besides, it’s much comfier to sleep like this.”

“Are you going to take a nap now?” Trista asked.

“Yep,” Kim said. “The morning shift doesn’t come in for another four hours. I’ve got plenty of time to catch some z’s and then finish up my checklist. I’m almost done with it anyway.”

“Look, I’m not going to stand guard or anything,” Trista said. “I have work to do. Besides, it doesn’t seem right. You don’t even know what this room is for.”

“No, I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Kim said. “No one has ever found me in here, and no one ever will. And I didn’t bring you so you could stand guard. I brought you so you could see the room and use it if you want...when I’m not using it, that is.”

“Thanks,” Trista said, “but no thanks.”

“Suit yourself. I’m ready to take a load off,” Kim said.

With that, she sat down in the chair, propped her bare feet up, lay her head back, and sighed contentedly.

“You can really sleep in here, on that?” Trista asked.

“Oh yeah,” Kim said. “I fall asleep almost immediately, and I always wake up in 25-30 minutes. It’s great. Very refreshing.”

A flashing light on the workstation caught Trista’s eye. She turned to look at it. The monitor had come to life, and text moved across it.

“Um, Kim…” Trista said.

“Shhh,” Kim said. “It’s nap time.”

“Seriously, I think you should see this,” Trista said.

After rows of indecipherable code had ascended up the screen, a simple command in English had appeared:

“Initiating sequence in 5...4...3...2…”

“Kim, something is happening,” Trista said with growing alarm. “You should get out of the chair.”

A quiet hiss that sounded like a slow leak from a tire caught Trista’s attention. She turned back to Kim and saw several small vents had opened in the chair’s headrest. Some kind of mist poured out from them, enveloping Kim’s head. Kim blinked her eyes, wrinkled her nose, and sputtered with her lips against the invasive vapor.

“Kim!” Trista shouted, hesitating to move any closer to her friend for fear of the strange gas.

Kim’s motions quickly stopped. Her head lolled to the side, facing Trista. Her eyes tried to focus.

“So...sleepy,” Kim said. “Time for...my nap…”

Her eyes closed and remained shut. The vents also closed then, stopping the flow of gas. At the same time, four other vents within the arm and foot rests opened. From within them, metal restraints slid out and over Kim’s wrists and ankles. Trista stood dumbfounded, watching in fascination and horror.

Next, just above where Kim’s head rested, a larger vent opened. A metallic object not dissimilar to a folding fan rose out from it on a hinged arm. The fan unfurled and solidified into a dome shape, and then slid down over Kim’s skull. Small lights danced along its surface for a moment before all turning on, and then a barely audible hum sounded.

Kim stiffened for an instant, then relaxed again, oblivious in her sleep as to what was happening. Trista called her name several times, but she didn’t respond.

In a panic now, Trista turned back to the workstation. Desperately, she searched for a way to stop the process, whatever it was. But she couldn’t find any instructions or decipher any buttons that might do it.

She turned back to watch Kim, who slept soundly under the strange humming dome. Just at the edge of perception, she heard an intermittent high-pitched droning akin to insect buzzes. She moved closer to the chair and determined the noise came from inside the dome over Kim’s head. Kim herself seemed to react to the noise, twitching slightly when it occurred and laying still when it didn’t.

Then, Kim began moving her mouth whenever the buzzing ceased. Still wary but desiring to know what was going on, Trista leaned in closer. The proximity allowed her to make out the whispered words that her sleeping friend spoke:

“I understand...I will not remember when I wake...but I will obey...I understand...I will not remember when I wake...but I will obey….”

“Oh my gosh!” Trista said. “It’s brainwashing her! Kim! Kim, wake up! Kim!”

With no amount of vocal urging or physical shaking able to rouse Kim, Trista tried to remove the restraints. That proved equally futile, as did trying to remove the dome from her head. She returned to the workstation, but quickly gave up on trying to make sense of the controls. Then she moved to the door and found it was sealed shut and wouldn’t budge.

From there, she went over to the recording equipment on the other wall. She noticed that rising and falling LED light patterns on the front of it matched both the buzzing sounds made by the dome and the mutterings of Kim. She quickly surmised that the brainwashing session was being recorded. But as with the other machinery in the room, she could find no way to stop it from functioning.

Finally, she gave up. She sat in the desk chair and watched the machine as it mentally conditioned Kim to obey and forget. Kim didn’t appear to be in any pain or discomfort, but watching her helpless and in the thrall of some strange device unnerved Trista. It was like seeing some large mechanical mouth suck away her friend’s mind.

A light flashed on the workstation monitor again, catching Trista’s attention. She turned to see another message appear on the screen, just beneath a timer that showed 25 minutes had passed:

“Sequence complete in 5...4...3...2…”

Trista stood up and leaned over Kim, calling her name. As she did, the dome lifted up from Kim’s head and compressed back into a fan shape. Then it receded back into its holding atop the headrest. Once it was out of sight, the restraints over Kim’s wrists and ankles slid open and disappeared into their vents, too. Kim began to stir.

“Kim!” Trista said. “Kim, wake up! Please wake up!”

“Okay, okay, I’m up, I’m up,” Kim said after a few seconds.

She opened her eyes and smiled up at Trista.

“Oh, thank heaven!” Trista said.

“Jeez, were you that lonely for a half hour?” Kim asked. “You didn’t have to stay, you know. I told you nothing would happen. This room is perfect for a snooze. Mmm! I feel so much better.”

“‘Nothing would happen?’” Trista said. “Are you serious? Kim, do you have any idea what happened?”

A look of grave concern crossed Kim’s face for a brief second. Then she laughed.

“Yeah, I know what happened,” Kim said. “Nothing, you big joker.”

“No,” Trista said. “You don’t understand. The chair...and the computer there...it put you to sleep and then...it gave you instructions...and the recorder over there--”

Trista suddenly found herself drowned out by Kim’s laughter.

“Look, I’m done now,” Kim said. “The room and the comfy chair are all yours. Take as long a nap as you want. I’ll even come back for you, so you don’t need an alarm.”

“No way! I’m not sitting in that thing. I’m not letting it brainwash me,” Trista said.

Kim stared at her friend incredulously, smiling in disbelief at what she thought must be a very bizarre joke. Then, without warning, her gaze turned cold. Trista noticed the change immediately.

“Kim?” Trista said.

“I think you should sit in the chair,” Kim said. “I think you could use a nap.”

Trista screamed and rushed the door. The next thing she knew she was face down on the floor, with Kim’s full weight pinning her there. She felt her shoes and socks ripped from her feet, even as she kicked and cried out in protest.

“There, there,” Kim said. “We can’t have dirty shoes scuffing the nice chair.”

Dragged upright then, Trista at first found herself securely in Kim’s grasp and then very quickly pushed backwards. She struck the chair and fell into its awaiting seat.

“Kim, no!” Trista shouted. “I have to get out of here before--”

But by then, the gas had started. Trista unwittingly inhaled it as she pleaded with her friend, and almost instantly it took effect. An intense sleepiness overwhelmed her. She vaguely felt the metal bands encircle her arms and legs, and then she knew nothing more.

Kim sat in the desk chair and watched as the process began anew with Trista. When after a few moments the bound woman began reciting over and over again what the machine told her, Kim nodded to herself.

“Yes,” Kim said, “you definitely needed a nap. You’ll feel so much better when you wake up....”