Maybe it was a rumble in the ship, or maybe whatever drugs that had been pumped into the twelve sleeping individuals wore off at the same time. They all woke up. Clad in simple cotton clothing reminiscent of hospital scrubs. They all found themselves in almost completely bare rooms. There was no sign of life but their own, and they had no memory of who they were except their name. It was the one thing they could cling to.
Psychology tells us anger is a secondary emotion. There is another emotion that is the source of that anger. Even if it is confusion or helplessness. Both were felt by the twelve people. They were alone in their room and scared.
Location: Room 2
Tessa started awake. Fear gripping her deep in her stomach. Something was very wrong. For a few moments, she wasn't entirely certain what it was that was wrong, but when she opened her eyes it became glaringly obvious. The room she was in was cold steel and white. She was certain that wasn't her style, which meant this wasn't her room.
Tessa frowned. What did her room look like? She closed her eyes again trying to bring it up. There was nothing. She dug around, trying to come up with something, anything that would give her an idea of how she got here. Or, who she was. She knew her name was Tessa. That felt right and obvious, but that was the only thing she could make stick.
The terror she had been feeling grew and twisted. It took her several minutes to gather her wits about herself. She spoke to the empty room, "Hello?" hoping it would draw attention to her. Maybe, someone was waiting for her to wake up, and once she had they'd explain she had been in an accident and that's why she couldn't remember anything.
When nothing responded Tessa decided to explore the room. Maybe there was a note. A quick glance told her there wasn't much in the small room. It was only a little over seven feet in either width or length. The ceiling, which looked like it might be a solid piece of metal except for the center of it where a vent pushed cool air into the room.
Tessa then spent what felt like thirty minutes searching the room. There was little of interest, in either the bedroom or the small bathroom attached at the back of the room. She was getting frustrated with the lack of information.
Location: Room 10
Luke woke up with a start. He checked his arms for any IV drips. He didn't remember going to sleep, so the fear of having got hit by something and was now in a hospital was legitimate. But this didn't look like any hospital he had ever seen before. Normally the patients weren't in the scrubs either. There was no IV, there were no machines at all. This was... a lot of things. Terrifying was specifically sharp in his mind as he realized he didn't even know why he knew about hospitals. He searched what he knew and he wasn't a doctor. His name was Luke and he was a hemophiliac.
That explained the fear of being on an IV, but not where he was or why. He paced the room a bit. Examining it carefully. There wasn't anything of interest that stood out to him. The room was basic, a cookie-cutter room. The only thing that felt special was a swimmer's cap he found in a drawer of the nightstand. His name was written in Sharpe on the inside of it, reinforcing that it was important. He rubbed his finger over the letters. He wasn't certain whose handwriting it was. Was it his own? Or had someone important to him writing it? Someone he couldn't remember the face or name of.
Anger burst through his other emotions. Someone had taken that from him. Someone had left him alone in a room with no idea what was going on. Someone was going to pay.
"Let me the hell out of here!" He started yelling. Surely whoever had done this to him was watching and listening. They had to be. They wouldn't just leave him here, would they?