The Hole in the Wall

“When your world abruptly falls apart, inaction is a powerful counteract,” said the voice, once leaving the man to his empty room.
The man walked the empty room, pacing its area as though studying it. The man did so until he became fatigued, ultimately falling asleep. When he awakened, he began his pacing once more. The man did so until a serving of food rose from beneath the floorboards. The man ate ravenously. He then recommenced his activity of traversing the interior of the empty room, once more doing so until sleep called for him.
This routine repeated itself for several days. The man learned he would be fed three times a day, at the same time each rising and falling of the sun. Though he could not see the sun, his body clock had adapted itself to when he was to be fed. It took the man about a week to notice something in the empty room that really wasn’t hidden whatsoever (to be fair: one would have thought it unmissable). The man noticed a hole in the wall. The man went over to the hole to take a look. He saw another man who looked just like him, almost identical. The man had short, tidy hair, glasses, soft brown eyes, chunky whitish teeth, thin lips, and a narrow nasal.
“You are in an empty room,” said the man beyond the hole. “What will you do?”
The man chose not to reply, deciding the character who looked familiar was not to be trusted. Then the food came, and that was that.
The same question was posited to the man in the empty room by the same man – that is to say, the man beyond the hole in the wall – once a day at the same time each day, right before the third and final meal was delivered. The man in the empty room knew that once he heard that question, he would soon eat. He began to look forward to that same question each day.
“You are in an empty room. What will you do?”
After just over a month, the man in the empty room decided to answer him.
“I am in an empty room. What will I do?” the words he chose.
The man behind the hole didn’t answer. The food came, and that was that. This went on for several months.
“You are in an empty room. What will you do?”
“I am in an empty room. What will I do?”
The man (for close to half a year I must note) went on with this routine precisely. He ate, slept, ate, slept, and said the words: ‘I am in an empty room. What will I do?’ every single day, not breaking from the course of events once. Then three meals became two.
The first day his third meal didn’t arrive from beneath the floorboards after hearing the same question: ‘You are in an empty room. What will you do?’ he believed it was some type of mistake. A week later, he became frustrated. When he was asked the question: ‘You are in an empty room. What will you do?’ after a week of having only two meals, he decided upon a different response.
“I am in an empty room. What can I do?”
This new routine of two meals a day and the vocalizations of both: ‘You are in an empty room. What will you do?’ and ‘I am in an empty room. What can I do?’ went on for another six months. The man’s body had adapted promptly to the decline in food, and the man’s sleeping pattern was stable. Then two meals became one.
“You are in an empty room. What will you do?”
“I am in an empty room. Is there anything I can do?” his choice of words once he’d confirmed that the cut in his daily servings of food was once more not a mistake.
One meal a day was far less than three. The man had not exercised once since the first meal came to him from beneath the floorboards. His health began to deteriorate.
“You are in an empty room. What will you do?” asked the same man with the same voice.
“I am in an empty room. Is there anything I can do?”
To our surprise, the man in the empty room’s body, though degenerating, still functioned (that is, ate and slept) for a further six months. Then one meal became none.
“You are in an empty room. What will you do?”
The man in the empty room, certainly not the same man as he was eighteen or so months ago, dragged himself over to the hole in the wall.
“What can a man do in an empty room?”
This routine didn’t last very long due to the man in the empty room’s health. His body shut down entirely.
The man behind the hole in the wall entered the unlocked room where the corpse lay with a removal team.
“Another one,” began the man who had been long behind the hole in the wall. The same man who had spoken to the deceased when exiting the room those many months ago. “I had thought this subject would be the one. Hm… Bring in the next!”
The removal team took out the body, making way for the installation team.
“When your world abruptly falls apart, inaction is a powerful counteract,” said the voice, once leaving the man to his empty room.