Charles stood by the transparent container that was ominously positioned in the center of Room 3. He pointed toward the large, almost suffocating structure with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Miss Mavis,” he said, his voice smooth and too kind, “have you ever seen a diving performance? This is what you need to do. Please, enter the container.”
Mavis’s heart sank. The words hit her like a slap on the face, her breath catching in her throat. She blinked rapidly, trying to understand what Charles meant. A diving performance? Her mind raced, struggling to put the pieces together. But there was no mistaking it, she was being asked to enter that container.
The workers in the room, having no time to waste, began to move quickly. They grabbed the transparent container and began carry
