Running across the hallway, he jumped on his head.

Ow. Why did he do that again? Oh right, because he couldn’t think of anything better to be doing at the time.

He got back to his feet, shrugging off the self-sustained blow like it was a flick on the arm. Area reacquaintance was in order. There was the floor, the walls, the special…

WOAH.

Running across the hallway, he jumped on his head.

Ow. Why did he do that again? Oh right, because he couldn’t think of anything better to be doing at the time.

He got back to his feet, shrugging off the self-sustained blow like it was a slap on the wrist. Reacquainting himself with the area was in order. The floors were tiled, the walls were white, the ceiling was…

WOAH.

Running across the hallway, he jumped on his head.

Ow. Why did he do that again? Oh right, because…

Wait. Why DID he do that again?

There was no way he could remember what had caused him to make a running dash that resulted in potential brain injury, or why he would ever consider it a better idea than doing nothing, but he definitely wasn’t going to…

WOAH.

Running at full speed, he smashed his skull through the right wall.

Ow. Why did he do that? Oh right, because it was a better idea than landing on his head.

Wait, WHAT? He shook his head, even though for some reason he didn’t feel any pain. His brain still felt a little fuzzy, but for some reason it didn’t feel like from head trauma. Though, if he was traumatized, perhaps he wasn’t the best judge of what was causing him to…

WOAH.

Running at full speed, he smashed his skull through the right wall.

Ow. Why did he do that again? Oh right, because…

Dammit, he didn’t know why. He definitely had better things to be doing than slamming his head through hard objects. He shook off the plaster that crowned him and looked at the two holes present in the right wall. What had caused those? Wait a minute, his head had caused one of the holes. Had he slammed his head into the wall twice? He moved to peer inside. He noticed–

WOAH.

Running at full speed, he smashed his head through the left wall.

Ow. Why did he do that again? Oh right, because… Dammit, something was to blame! He wasn’t doing this on purpose… Wait, was he? He shook the plaster out of his hair as he peered into the hole he had just made. Inside was another wall, about two feet away from where the wall he saw should have began. The area between the two was completely hollow, as far as he could see from either side. Admittedly, in the darkness between, he couldn’t see very far anyway.

WOAH.

Running at full speed, he smashed his entire body through the right wall.

Ow. Why did he… Oh, hell, he thought, I’m not even going to ask myself anymore. He looked around the compartment he was currently in, bits of plaster and chunks of insulant resting on his sprawled form. There really wasn’t much to look at. It was a small change in scenery from the hallway, but all black paint was hardly a significant difference from all white.

Wait a minute, this area was bigger than the spot where he had opened up a crude window into the left wall. Significantly bigger, almost like a darker mirrored hallway. Even weirder, this area was unlit. He brushed himself off as he stood up to survey the…

WOAH.

Running at full speed, he smashed his entire body through the new right-most wall.

Ow. This time he had ricochet off an all-white wall less than two feet away from where the black wall had formerly been. He had left a sizeable dent, but it had proven stronger than his skull in this case.

He let out a long groan, more out of frustration than pain.

Wait, pain? Was this pain? He realized he hadn’t felt it the previous times. I mean, he always said ow before, but pain was never the real reason for it. It was still pretty trivial, nothing he couldn’t shrug off, but what was alarming was that it was present this time.

He curled over to one side to sit up, his mind racing. He had run his head into the floor and the walls… How many times? He couldn’t be sure. It had to have been at least four, based on the visible damage. What was more curious was that he was actually feeling a little bit more rational. As he got to his feet, he couldn’t help but notice that…

WOAH.

Running at full speed, he smashed his entire body through the left-most white wall.

Ow! He had bounced off the hidden black wall this time, leaving just another dent behind what once was a predominantly immaculate white wall, save for a single hole. And this time, he felt something that felt like… was this a sprain? He couldn’t think of another word for what he had done to his left shoulder, so he decided that he had sprained it.

Dust had accumulated on his sprawled form. He rolled over on his other shoulder, making his way to his knees. He brushed some of the debris off, all the while clutching the new unpleasant sensation that had overwhelmed his thoughts. The sprain itself wasn’t overwhelming, he decided after catching his breath, but the growing damage to himself seemed to bring an implication he wasn’t quite ready to approach in his state.

What was his state? He looked around. Three man-sized holes blemished what were otherwise incredibly plain walls. Behind two of them, his frame had left marks on what appeared to be impenetrable walls. He craned his neck around the rest of the white room. As he made his way to his feet, he couldn’t help but notice the hallway seemed to extend endlessly on either end. The floor was an incredibly boring tile, the same color as the pale corridor sides. The same appeared to be true of the parallel black hallway, the floor matching the lifeless walls. As he turned his head to the ceiling, he noticed…

WOAH.

Running at full speed, he slammed sideways between the right-most black wall and the white wall it had formerly concealed, landing on his side squarely between the two.

OW! He winced as he felt something in his right shoulder pop. This was getting old really fast, and he still hadn’t even taken stock of his surroundings, let alone figured out what the hell was causing these extremely unpleasant episodes. Even more disconcerting was that each episode was beginning to show consequences in the form of injury.

Pressed in the narrow white hallway, he didn’t feel like getting up anytime real soon. He now had what he believed was a small headache, a sprained left shoulder, and possibly a dislocated right shoulder. He didn’t like where this was headed.

Wait a minute. Pattern? He hadn’t really been aware that there were patterns before, though it seemed kind of obvious now. Then again, everything that had happened to him while he was in this hallway seemed to be actually sticking with him, as well. His memory seemed to improve with each accident. Was he getting more aware, too, more intelligent? What the hell was going on?

He was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the position his body had landed in the narrow space. With a slightly increased level of discomfort, he wormed himself into an upright position until he was in what he considered a standing position. He shuffled sideways back to the hole, staring out into the black hallway. He remembered something of interest had caught his eye on the ceiling of the big white hall, but he couldn’t actually see the white hall’s ceiling from here. He peered up at the black hall’s ceiling to see if he could find the same curiosity. The darkness made locating anything in it difficult, though about fifty meters away, he could make out…

WOAH.

He charged headlong toward the hole in the white wall to the narrow black corridor, smashing it to make an even bigger dent.

Augh! His body flew even deeper into this narrow space. By the time he had regained control, he found his body had leverage himself between the two walls. His head was in agony. He felt a warm liquid ooze down his forehead into his eyes. This was bad. This was really, really bad. The pattern pointed to his injuries growing significantly more brutal with each episode.

But wait. Patterns. Every time he had lost control, he had stood up first, on his own volition. What if he chose not to stand up? That should give him enough time to catch his breath, take stock of his surroundings, and mentally recover from this torture, if not physically. Also, he WAS getting wiser, he was sure of it. Maybe if he stay down long enough, not only would these bursts and whatever was causing them leave him alone, but he could finally figure out where the hell he was, what was so special about this place, and maybe even get the hell back to…

Dammit! Even with his improving memory, he couldn’t remember anything before this hallway. Where does he really belong? Who WAS he? The confusion of such a simple question nearly brought him to tears as he realized, he didn’t have anything to show for his scars.

He swallowed them back as he tried to force himself back to what he had to work with. His pulse raced on, still remembering his recent impromptu sprints. He remembered the layout of the area his body had been used to demolish. He had no idea how he had gotten here, what these hallways connected, or to whom they belonged. No, too far, go back to something he could remember. The walls are all plain, absolutely nothing adorning them. The floors are all plain tiles that match their respective walls. The ceiling… That’s right, dammit, what the hell was up with the damn ceiling?

WOAH.

His body shot straight up from the ground before attempting to barrel sideways through the length of the standing white wall.

AUUUGH! Several ribs cracked as he plowed through the dividing structure. His body collapsed for him after a mere two meters, granting him brief mercy.

As far as healing went, he realized all he could hope for was a breath before he found himself hurtling toward the destruction of inanimate structures and his own corpse. He looked up at the ceiling in utter misery. His vision was blurred by blood, tears, and adrenaline, all products his brain would not stop sending. He would die here, die at the mercy of something that took pleasure in seeing him crush himself against walls.

(End of part 1.)