No matter how many times he tried, the door would not budge. He had attempted everything to open it. He pushed; it failed. He pulled; it failed. He thought it might be a sliding door, but that too was wrong. There was no keyhole, so even if it were locked, he had neither the skill nor the tools to pick it. He searched every inch of the room for another exit, but there were no windows—only a tiny gap beneath the door. The room, barely three square meters, contained nothing but a single desk and chair, illuminated by a small light fixed high on the ceiling.
Before he knew it, he had been trapped in this room. He had no inkling of who had imprisoned him or for what purpose. He didn’t even know how many days had passed since his confinement began. Whenever he woke up, a meal was always waiting for him. At first, driven by hunger, he ate. Once he realized the food was always delivered while he slept, he tried staying awake or pretending to sleep to catch the person serving him. Every attempt was in vain. He would inevitably drift off, only to find a meal placed on the desk upon waking.
Next, he decided not to eat. He resolved to endure until he starved to death. His mental state had been pushed to the brink by the isolation. However, this attempt also failed. It seemed he had been given an IV drip while he slept. Plagued only by a gnawing hunger, he eventually gave in and ate.
One day, he suddenly felt a breeze drifting from somewhere. It was a faint current, but his senses had become heightened in every respect—likely a result of his desperate search for any clue to escape the enclosed space. The wind seemed to be flowing through the gap under the door. Suddenly, the size of that gap caught his attention. It was noticeably larger than a typical door gap. Of course, he had noticed it before and had even tried to peer through to see what lay beyond, but he had seen nothing. What piqued his curiosity now was the realization that the gap was just wide enough for a person’s fingers to fit.
Experimentally, he hooked his fingers under the door. In that instant, his heart leapt. The door lifted slightly. Steeling himself, he heaved the door upward with a final, desperate grunt. With a dry rattle, the door slid up and finally opened.
“It’s finally open…”
He whispered those few words as he felt the strength drain from his body. He had reached his limit. The door was heavier than he could have imagined; fueled by a frantic obsession to escape, he had lifted it with superhuman strength born of desperation. The door collapsed back down, crushing him instantly, and he breathed his last.
