Gemotions

The initial shock had given way to a chilling, creeping dread. John wiped his brow with the back of his hand, smearing the sweat. He glanced at Carol, who stood frozen, her eyes wide, staring at the control panel. He could feel the blood draining from his face, leaving him pale and clammy.

He took a shaky breath. "Well," he croaked, his voice barely audible. "This is... suboptimal." He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout for help. He wanted to do anything but remain trapped in this tiny space.

Carol finally found her voice. "Do you think we should try...?" Her sentence hung unfinished. John knew exactly what she meant: try to pry the doors open, try to force their way out. The thought of being sealed inside for hours was unbearable.