you wake up, delirious and groggy. you cannot see a thing. you realize that you are tied up and blindfolded on an uncomfortable floor.

“you, you’re finally awake. you’re bound and blindfolded. in a moment, i will release the ropes. when i say, you may take off the blindfold. if you can find the exit, you may leave.”

the man removes the ropes and instructs you to wait. a few seconds later, he allows you to take off the blindfold.

it’s pitch black. you might as well not even have eyes. you reach up to feel, just in case, and yes, they’re still there. you feel around. the floor seems normal. but only for a few feet. then you feel something small and blocky.

“no,” you say. “you bastards…”

you think for a moment, then an idea strikes you.

“i’ll just drag my feet and walk along the bare floor until i find that exit!”

you try, but it’s like moving the legos only reveals more legos below it. you move enough legos around you and, finally, you realize that your captors are far more evil than you’d originally thought. you’re on a pedestal in a lego pit that’s at least two feet deep.

“you evil fuckers! how could you strand someone on an island like this?”

you hear that same voice over the pa system. “one more thing – for every hour that you fail to find the exit, another six inches of legos are dumped on top of you.”

so you’ll lose your pedestal in less than an hour. your only safe haven. and the only way to keep it, ironically, is to leave it. these men are something else.

so you work up the courage to venture out into this room. you have no idea how huge it might be, but you just have to keep walking. a particularly strangely-shaped lego shifts and you fall on your face, sending a small lego up your nose. you recover, remove the lego, and trek forward to the wall. it’s a painful walk, and you’re sure that your feet are bleeding by now. you reach down, and yes, they are.

after what seems like an eternity, you reach the first wall. it’s smooth metal. you decide to go to the right and feel all the way around the room. you’re feeling high and low; the door might just be a little crawl space. a few minutes later and you realize that your feet are getting very tender. it’s hard to walk. maybe just a short break-

what sounds like hundreds of tiny doors opening at once releases thousands legos onto your head. you’ve only been in the room for an hour and you’ve already lost six inches of space. you need to hurry. no time for breaks.

you don’t know how long you’ve been walking, but you find the corner. at least half of one wall is bust. time to chug on. there’s a little girl waiting for you, at least you hope. thinking about that fills you with hate and you find the next corner before the legos fall. you’ve finished one whole wall, but you’re not done yet.

you keep moving forward, the only thing to do, looking for a door on wall number three. the doors open again, and another six inches of legos fall. you’ve lost more space, but you think you’re almost to the next corner. your feel your feet, only to have your hand soaked in blood. the pain isn’t enough to stop you.

eventually, you’ve felt all of the third wall. the thought hits you – “what if the door was to my left when i reached the first wall? i could be out of here by now!” but you can’t think like that. despair will only lead to failure. you keep going, feeling the fourth wall. more legos. you’ve lost 18 inches now. if it were snow, you and your daughter would be building a snowman. instead, you’re in a personal hell.

“keep moving, keep moving, gotta find that door.” your mantra has become audible as you leave a trail of bloodstained legos behind you, feeling for the escape. you’ve slowed down significantly. you are feeling every lego pierce your feet like a knife. it’s almost intolerable, but you *have* to get out. more legos. 24 inches lost. you reach up to see how high the ceiling might be, but you can’t reach it. you don’t dare jump for it. you finish feeling the fourth wall, and you’ve wrapped back around to the first.

“there’s no way…” you feel along. “no way…” you’ve been walking on this wall for too long. “there’s no way out…?” you’ve hit the corner.

you have no idea how long you’ve walked – at least a quarter mile – and there was no door on any wall.

“is this a joke to you?!” you scream. “is my life worth nothing?!”

more legos.

“how in the hell do i get out of here?!”

no wait.

“how did *you* get out of here?”

there was no crunching of legos when the man left. there are plenty of doors above you that keep dropping more legos.

“is- is the way out *up*?”

“good job, subject three.” the voice over the pa system says. “you’re the first to figure it out. the other two kept wandering in circles. they died because they couldn’t move becuse of how many legos there were. the first one couldn’t figure it out and was asphyxiated between the ceiling and legos. the second one gave up and allowed herself to be buried in them. what will you do?”

you realize the gravity of the situation. the perimeter of a space is much less than the internal area. there could be a ladder right above where you started, in the middle, and you wouldn’t have known it because you didn’t check. now you might not even be able to find the middle.

“you must hurry, subject three. you only have four hours left, and it took you that much time to reach this point.”