(A/N) I know I've got a lot of fics on hold, but I just watched the movie Cube, and I loved it. It was very suspenseful, and an idea formed in my head. Due to Cube being kind of short (But still totally worth it) this fic shouldn't take me long to complete. This is an OC fic, based on the first film, and don't worry. I'll keep up the tradition of naming the character after a prison.
By Dark Magician Boy
Chapter 1: Anderson and Alderson
After what felt like hours of sleeping, Anderson began to come to.
"What happened?" he said aloud, not opening his eyes, and remaining on the floor.
He heard shuffling nearby him, and he sat up quickly from the floor, opening his eyes.
Anderson noticed for a few seconds that it was blurry before it occurred to him that he wasn't wearing his glasses.
He felt around what he discovered was anew outfit he was wearing, and found a pocket that had his glasses.
Slipping them on, he saw a bald man walking around.
He and the bald man were in a cube-shaped room that was made up of white squares with strange symbols on them.
The man had just noticed Anderson was there, and turned around quickly, clearly very scared.
"Where are we?" Anderson asked, beginning to stand up.
"I'm not sure. I was in my house reading when everything went black. Then I woke up here," the man said. He had a very strange accent.
"Where is here?" Anderson asked. The man could see he was scared. Expected of a boy of only about fourteen or so.
The boy that stood in front of Alderson looked to be about five feet, in the same outfit he was in. He had scruffy brown hair, and wore glasses.
"You must be frightened. Come. Let us find a way out of here," Alderson said, beckoning for the boy to come closer.
"My name is Alderson," the man said after a few seconds.
"I'm Anderson," the boy said, laughing a bit at how similar their names sounded. "Do you know how to get out of here?"
"I'm not sure. I have figured out that there are more rooms, and that you get to them through the doors," Alderson said, and they moved for one of the doors on the walls.
Alderson twisted the handle, and the door came out, sliding down easily.
This room had an orange pattern around it.
Alderson climbed through first, but Anderson hesitated. A very strange, ominous feeling filled him.
"Mr. Alderson? I don't think you should go in there," Anderson said, walking up to the room's entrance.
He saw Alderson walking, but then, a rush of air came, and Alderson stopped.
"Mr. Alderson?" Anderson asked, staring at the man in the other room.
But he didn't answer. Anderson stared at him for a few seconds till he began to see blood seeping out of him, and Alderson fell apart.
Anderson stood there, gaping, nauseous, and very frightened where Alderson had been, and watched as the dicer briefly revealed itself before folding back up.
Leaven was screaming for a bit before Quentin came in and helped her. But when they were about to leave, they heard more screaming form the room to their left.
The opened the door to find Anderson, huddled in a corner, crying.
Quentin rushed to Anderson, and when his hand touched him, a strange sensation passed through Anderson. It was the same feeling he had had when Alderson was killed
"M-Mr. Alderson," he said, pointing a shaking hand towards a door.
Leaven went to open the door, and let out a small scream at the chunks that were Alderson.
Quentin went over and saw the mess in the next room.
"Come on, we've got to get back to the others," Quentin said, picking up a shaking Anderson and taking the path back to the room Worth and the other two people were in. Leaven quickly followed.
The four adults and teenager stared at the shaking boy who was in the corner.
"He just fell apart," Anderson said, white hot tears streaming down his face.
Anderson heard one of the women gasp. He thought it was Holloway.
"See what I mean?" the one called Quentin said to the others. "There are traps in here."
Holloway walked over to Anderson and tried to calm him by stroking his head.
"How old are you?" she tried to ask over his constant sobs, and he began to slow his breathing.
"I'm fourteen," he said, beginning to look up.
"What were you doing?" she asked, and Anderson closed his eyes, trying to think back.
The house was dark. His father was working late, and he had seemed sad when he had left for work that morning.
Anderson got up from watching TV. He had a craving for some candy.
Walking over to the pantry, he opened it up, and searched out the candy cabinet to find a lock over it.
"You can't keep me out that easily Dad," he said with a smirk on his face.
Pulling out a skeleton key he kept secret from his dad, he wiggled it at the lock, and it popped open.
"Ok, let's see. Reece's Twinkies, gumballs, Hershey's, gumdrops, all right, Starbursts!" he said excitedly, grabbing a few packages.
Feeling very hungry. He just decided to stuff his pockets after he had taken all the starbursts with what ever would fit.
Peeling open a Starbursts package, he popped an orange one into his mouth, and put the rest into his pocket with all the other candy.
Just as he was walking back, he saw a shadow move in the mirror.
Before he could turn to see who it was, the room went dark.
He felt a falling sensation, and heard the sound of being dragged. He was aware, and yet, he wasn't aware. But then, after a few seconds, his limbs went absolutely numb, and he was unconscious.
The next thing he knew, he was meeting Alderson.
His hands wandered down to his pockets, and he felt bulges.
"I still have my candy," he said quietly, and they leaned in as he opened his pockets to reveal a stash that could open a Candy Shop.
"I guess we don't have to worry about food," Leaven said.
"Yes, but humans can't live purely on junk food," Holloway said.
"Who said we were going to be living in here?" Quentin said, beginning to walk around.
The elder man walked immediately up to another room, and it was then that everyone noticed he had noticed he had tied his boots together.
"What the hell are you doing?" Quentin asked as the old man opened the door, and began swinging the boot.
"Hey old man, did you hear what I said?" he asked as the boot was tossed into the room.
A flamethrower activated, and torched the boot, and everyone in that room gasped.
Anderson's eyes widened at the flame's light, and he stared at the boot as it was gradually pulled back in. His mind turned the boot into Alderson.
He cried some more, then threw up when he though of Alderson, now several chunks lying on a floor.
Everyone in the room stared at him, and the pile of vomit below him.
Worth, Holloway, and the old man stared in disgust at it.
"Hey, if you had seen what he saw, you would sympathize," Quentin said, and the three looked curious.
Leaven walked over to him, while Quentin walked over to the adults.
"There was a man that was diced. And that little boy saw it happen," Quentin whispered to them, and they looked wide eyed at the boy, now being hugged by Leaven.
Anderson was no longer crying, but was sweating very badly.
"I guess I'm not the only one with glasses," Leaven said, and Anderson looked up to see her holding up a broken pair of reading glasses.
"What happened?" Anderson asked, holding the glasses.
"They broke when we got back into this room," she said.
The words felt strange to him. This room. It felt good to him, like a safe place.
"We should get going. Who knows how long we're going to be in here," Quentin said, going over to pick Anderson back up.
"I can walk," he said, wishing he hadn't said that. He felt like he had insulted the man. But he also didn't like the feeling he got whenever he was in contact with him.
Dr. Holloway was going over how they would need water soon, or they would dehydrate, but then the old man got sick of her, and held up a button, telling her to suck on it for water.
The old man was about to go into another room till he smelt something funny.
"What," Quentin asked when the old man stopped him from going in.
"The air seems dry in there," the old man began.
"Trapped?" Leaven asked.
"Molecular chemical sensor," he continued, still staring into the room.
"Why the hell didn't the boot set it off?" Quentin asked impatiently.
"The boot's not alive. It detects hydrogen sulfide excreted from the skin," he finished, hopping down from the entrance and walking to another.
"How is it you know so much about sensors, Rennes?" Quentin asked.
"So," Anderson thought, "The old man's name is Rennes".
"It's Wren," the old man said, clearly annoyed, "Not Rennes".
Before Quentin could say anything, Anderson spoke up.
"The Wren? The famous escape artist that made his way out of seven prisons?" Anderson asked.
The old man just nodded as he opened up the next room.
These names were beginning to sound familiar to him. He had seen them all in a file on his father's desk.
"You can get us out," Leaven said, walking up to him.
"Maybe," he said, struggling to get into the next room. That ominous feeling crept over Anderson again. It was Alderson all over again.
"Don't go in there!" Anderson screamed at the top of his lungs.
But it was too late. Wren had swung in already, and Anderson's scream had caught his attention.
He was about to rush out, but a nozzle below the door opened up and sprayed him in the face.
The door closed itself, as his screaming could be heard from the other side.