The Door Locks Behind Her

There was a clunk of a heavy bolt. The topless reporter dropped the guard and turned, but there was no lock on this side of the door—not even a handle. Lois Lane cursed as she realized she'd just walked through a one-way door, and there was no way out. At least, not the way she'd come in.

Lois turned to survey her surroundings. The room was clean and white, but the lights overhead were pink, and small filters over the LED bulbs cast spiral patterns all over the walls and floor. A television screen blinked into life, showing a generic grey model of a woman, and from hidden speakers a pleasant, elderly feminine voice spoke:

"Hello dear. Would you like to play a game?"

The reporter frowned. She had seen the SAW movies, and didn't like where this was going. Still...not playing along could be its own form of trouble.

"What kind of game?" Lois asked, tentatively.

"Oh, we have so many fun games for our guests. We think you'll like this one. If you follow instructions and do as you're told, you'll earn points! Earn enough points, and you'll win the prize."

Lois Lane gulped.

"What's the prize?" the reporter asked.

"Why, you get to live, dearie," the old woman's voice was pleasant, but the meaning of her words sent a shiver down the reporter's spine.

I need to find a way out of here, Lois Lane decided.