The Intentional Wanderer

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Tammy, a M.E.G. researcher begins to uncover an odd backrooms phenomenon as she dives into the story written in a journal by an unnamed wanderer. Tammy is a smart woman, but the backrooms are a mysterious and dangerous place. Driven by curiosity and the drive to seek truth, Tammy will stop at nothing to find the answers that plague her mind. Follow along to see how Tammy navigates her way through this strange universe as she uncovers its mysteries. 
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Entry One: A Deep Dive into the Database
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As a M.E.G. researcher I can't help but get excited when we receive new materials to comb over. Between the video footage and personal journals that we find scattered across the backrooms, there is a treasure-trove of knowledge waiting to be extracted. I'm just glad that people feel enticed to write down their personal experiences. Maybe that's what is inspiring me to write down my own?
This particular notebook was found in a nice black and yellow toolbox. It was a shipment from level 43, I think? Looking at the dossier, it looks like this along with another small journal was found next to a body on level 375. 375... I'll have to look that one up, I don't recall anything about that level from memory. Well, regardless of the origin of this notebook and toolbox, two things are certain: This is a really nice toolbox. Like, seriously, this is a high-quality toolbox, despite being made of plastic. Secondly, this journal has really piqued my interest. 
This wanderer traversed through level after level, not unlike myself, and many others doomed to wander through the backrooms. He... I assume it's a he, was thankfully rather detailed on his travels. A few things stood out to me though. At one point he mentioned a "Mandela effect", a phrase that I've seemed to have heard often while being a researcher for the M.E.G., but more importantly, I noticed some inconsistencies in the story that appear to clash against our database. 
The main difference I noticed was the mention of what I am almost positive was, Level 188. They way he recorded it was exactly how level 188 is described. Now our hero had only heard of the backrooms before, and he didn't have access to the database like I do, so I can't blame him for not knowing the level numeral designation, but I am still positive he went from level 1 to level 188 via no-clipping. 
Now level 188 is a very famous level, and its properties are well known. It's a hotel corridor, completely indoors, with windows going all the way up. Now the problem here is the wanderer states how happy he was to finally have some light, especially after the power-outage in level 1. Level 188 is well known for being completely dark, covered in dust. The second major problem was the presence of an entity. Now, I had to double check the database, but it is also a known fact that level 188 is completely void of entities. Yep, "Entities - 0/5, no hostile presence."
Now our wanderer ran into, you guessed it, a hostile entity. This is where my thought process went on a tangent. Okay, so this level looks like 188, but is bright with entities; this must be an undiscovered sub-level of 188. Level 188.1 has light, but no roof, also, no entities, so that's ruled out. I was about to submit an investigation form for the possibility of a Level 188.2 when I thought about the entity our wanderer described. It was most certainly Entity 2, known as Windows. 
Now just for fun and because I was on the clock, I pulled up the Entities section in our database, just as a little refresher, mostly because I was trying to figure out how windows might be in Level 188, but also dismissing the idea, since this was obviously a new sub-level. Obviously, right? Then I noticed something. Something that should not be in our database. It was under the link for the Windows Entity:
Notably in level 188? How is that possible if the level is void of entities? Then I remembered reading up on entity 47, The Mushroom Maw. Now, there wasn't anything unusual about the entity itself, in fact, despite its detail, it's a really rare entity. But what interested me the most about that page, and my deep dive into the windows of 188 that reminded me of this, was a footnote at the bottom of the page. It was about a M.E.G. researcher that I had never heard of before named Geraldine Schrader. 
Here, I'll write down the footnote: 1. The aforementioned version of Level 210 has appeared to have vanished from our database. We do not know the whereabouts of Geraldine Schrader and we fear that she and her current research may be forever lost. We've noted this anomaly in the backrooms many times before. Level 130 for example, does an excellent job at documenting this phenomenon. Levels seem to appear and erase themselves from existence with only tiny threads of evidence of their prior presence. Perhaps we may someday know the fate of our esteemed researcher. Geraldine Schrader's contributions to the scientific community will never be forgotten.
"Hey Tammy, what'cha up to?" Les, a dear friend of mine approached me from the back of the workshop. We had both worked in level 444 for a few years at this point, and we had grown quite close. 
"Hey Les, have you ever heard of level 130?" He wasn't the type to deep dive into documents like I did, but he was a work horse and loved to get his hands dirty. There was a good chance he had at least heard of it. 
"130... is that the one that is kind of like an apartment, but the article is written like a story?" Well, I guess I should have probably at least opened the article before asking my question, shouldn't I? Let's see... Level 130 - Level 13? Well, which is it? 
"Yeah, looks like a story level." Those were fun to read but I'd get frustrated reading them if I was in an emergency. "So... level 13... is the garden level. I've never been, but I'd like to see it one day. Let's see... old level 13 looked like this one. ...Other guy doesn't recognize old 13 being an apartment complex. First guy said it used to be one then it poofed out of existence." That's odd, the Mushroom Maw said the same thing, just like level 210 used to have something called a Zverikal. "Les, I think I'm on to something here. Maybe something big. You got some time to deep dive into a mystery?"
Les was never the type of guy to turn down a job. "Tammy, that sounds like a great time, but... we have an assignment." Oh well, I'll have time to further research this later. An assignment takes priority over found media research. 
"Shoot, well, okay. What have we been 'perhapsed' into doing this time?" MEG management, or Megagement as we preferred to call them, always liked to give us these tasks as they know we'll do them right. Though, sometimes it would be nice to see other operators take an assignment here and there. 
"I think you'll like this, Tammy. We've got a Phantom Watcher willing to take us to see the Grandiose Phantom sing, less than a mile from here. We just need to watch and take notes." Oh, he was right, that did sound exciting. Now, we were both avid music lovers and this would be a real treat, despite the dangers present in level 444. Plus, Phantom Watchers were better experts on traversing level 444 than even the M.E.G.. 
Well, to the mysterious, unnamed wanderer of this neat little journal, bless his heart; to poor Aaron, the young man that had to bury his big brother. I accept your challenge to record my adventures in this very notebook. Though my goals are a bit more intentional, I'll proudly carry the title "The Accidental Wanderer." And now, thanks to you and your brother, I have a mission. I need to find out why realms, entities, and entire groups of people disappear without a second thought. What happened to Geraldine Schrader? What happened to level 13? What happened to level 188? So many questions... But first, I think I'd like to go hear some music. 
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Entry Two: A Deep Dive into Somewhere Else
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Now the M.E.G. Outpost 4-CT was situated in a marvelous, humongous theatre with gold trim everywhere. It was a sight to see, in fact, the entire level was named after this one theatre. Les and I exited the workshop to see Sarah, our manager, talking with a tall bald man. The brilliant lights from the catwalks above shined on his smooth head which made it sort of light up like a beacon. "Tammy! Les! You ready for your assignment?"
Sarah was a kind woman, if not a little intimidating due to her tall stature and booming voice. She took a lot of pride in her work and expected everyone to do the same. I smiled at her, trying not to show my disdain for her interrupting my work. Les was staring up at one of the gold statues above the thousands of seats and around one of the several opera boxes. 
"Tammy, Les, this is Jason. We're giving his group some supplies in exchange for some reconnaissance with the Grandiose Phantom." Sarah put her hand on Jason's shoulder, and he stumbled back slightly at the surprised physical contact. "Uh, yeah. She's..." Jason pointed towards the entrance to the theatre. "She's about a mile that way." Just with this short interaction, I could already tell Jason wasn't the chattiest individual, then again, often enough around Sarah, it can be hard to get a word in edgewise.
"Well, Jason, it's a pleasure. Les and I enjoy some music so this should be fun." Les nods and grunts. I could tell when he was only half-way paying attention when he grunts. We both readied our tablets and I opted to try out this new toolbox. I figured I'd also use this new notebook to take notes in. We followed Jason out the main entrance into the theatre's grand hall. We nodded at the M.E.G. guards as we passed by, taking note of the few facelings that were wandering around in their fancy get-ups. It's not common, but there are some dangerous entities that can be found here, even in the lobbies and well-lit areas. 
We turned right into a smaller door that led us past a maintenance corridor. Up some stairs, we passed two quaint dressing rooms that opened up to a quaint backstage area onto a modest stage. Instead of exiting through the back of the auditorium like we did the first time, Jason led us through a door that was adjacent to what I assumed was a greenroom. 
On the other side of the door was a long, dark catwalk. "Hold it just a second." Jason held his hand up and I grabbed onto the rail. It was about a 30-foot drop to the dark stage below. Jason looked up at a second catwalk. "Last time our door was there." He points up at the second catwalk. "I don't see our door, so we will have to go down." I didn't see a ladder either. 
We walked about halfway across the narrow, dark walkway where Jason grabbed some stage hoists. "Looks to be entity free, ready to go down?" I felt a lump form in my throat. I wasn't necessarily afraid of heights. Spiders? Absolutely, but heights are usually fine. These hoists though, can be a tad sketchy sometimes. "Well..." I paused for a thoughtful moment. I grabbed the rope and began pulling down on the roller as I watched the hook raise up. I inspected the rope as it rose, and it appeared to be in decent shape. "I guess I'll go first?" I wasn't excited about it, but a job's a job, and there are way worse things in the backrooms than a dinky little hoist. 
I put my foot on the hook and Jason and Les steadily lowered me down to the stage below. I aided in the descent of the other two from the bottom. I looked around the modest theater. It had maybe 200 seats? We continued out the back of the auditorium which led to another lobby. We traveled like this for maybe another hour, theater to theatre, passage to passage. When we arrived through the last lobby to a very old looking entrance, Jason stopped us and listened in. I could hear an angelic voice singing an unfamiliar aria with a haunting, ethereal, projection and a crystal-clear tone. We weren't even inside, and I already had chills. 
Inside the theatre was very dark. All lights were off with the exception of a single lamp, center stage. In front the lamp what a ghastly, floating woman, dressed in a pure white Victorian-era gown. Her hand was raised as her voice echoed through the theatre. She was as beautiful as she was terrifying. We quietly took our seats, and I could see a twinkle in Jason's eye. I think he was tearing up. Now the Phantom Watchers sort of worshiped the phantom, and I could see why. They were convinced that she was a god, that she could be their salvation in the backrooms. 
I guess it's something to hold on to, just a sliver of hope. Even if I didn't believe she would save us from anything, I could appreciate the notion of finding hope or even comfort in something. Hope... I wonder what the people of the original level 13 had hope for? I opened up my tablet and tapped on the database link to level 130, titled "level 13?" and started reading through again. There was a screenshot of an email from an operator named Hugo. That's funny, Hugo mentioned a M.E.G. base on level 11. I could see Les shifting his eyes towards my illuminated face. 
"Les, you ever heard of a base on level 11?" Les looked kind of startled by my sudden question. I could hear the phantom's voice waiver at my sudden question. "Isn't level 11 completely void of life?" Jason tapped me on the shoulder, and I looked over towards him. He had his finger to his mouth indicating that I should be quiet. I looked back down to the level 130 article. A second email by a Henry Sunter had similar thoughts as mine. I wonder if he's still around? He looks to be in level 4 at the time of this email. At least level 4 actually does have a M.E.G. presence so that checks out. 
I kept reading an addendum at the bottom of the article, including some hopeless emails indicating that all contact was cut off as well as any entrances or exits to the old level 13. It was as though the level broke off like a KitKat bar and fell into the void leaving everyone inside trapped, doomed, with limited resources. That explains why level 13, well the old level 13 isn't in the database anymore. That doesn't answer the question of why no one remembers it with the exception of this one guy, writing the article. 
I thought about the windows and lights in level 188, the base in level 11, Geraldine Schrader, Aaron's brother with his "Mandela effect." What if... "Les! do you think the backrooms is a multiverse?" That came out louder than was intended. Suddenly the angelic voice of the grandiose phantom ceased, and it was replaced by a deep growl. It sounded like one of those death metal singers my kid used to listen to those many years ago. I miss him. 
Jason piped up to the two of us. "We have to go." The three of us stood up as I noticed electricity buzzing about the hands of our operatic ghost. I could feel a lead brick pushing into my lower stomach as anxiety spread throughout my body. We quietly, but quickly moved towards the exit as the screams and growls of the phantom grew stronger with each verse. 
We reached the door when suddenly another man entered through. "Theat...ter. Hellllo." Something was off about this man. It looked like his face was slightly twisted to the north and his eyes seemed... well different.
Jason stepped forward to investigate. "Jed?" 
Jed opened his mouth again to speak as he adjusted his face to sit on his skull a tad more properly. "Watch show... Jace... sun?"
Suddenly Jason jerked back, away from Jed. Poor Jason's last words were "That's not Jed!" as he ran the opposite way, only to be met by a sudden, bright bolt of lightning. All I can remember was the red mist that exploded from his extremities before he flew backwards in an upward thrust. Les and I didn't have time to process what was happening, and we made a mad dash towards the stage, Jed in tow. 
The phantom was still screaming, and I could see her charging up for her next attack. We rushed by her as she shot another bolt of electricity passed Jed, either missing him or skin stealers were immune to the charge. We reached a ladder and climbed like our lives depended on it, which, of course, it absolutely did. We reached the top, exhausted but fueled with adrenaline. Luckily for us, Jed was slow to climb the ladder, but the threat of the grandiose phantom still lingered. We had to escape. 
On the other side of the catwalk was a door. Ignoring the fact that there were no safety rails, we dashed to the other side as a bolt of lightning crashed on the bottom of the path exploding in a shower of sparks. We nearly lost our balance as the black and thankfully wooden path shook. Though the fire caused by the charge would certainly be a problem. Without a second of time lost, Les and I bolted through the door, and I dropped about 6 feet, falling onto my belly. Thankfully my feet broke my fall before I hit the ground or that would have been a lot worse. 
"Well, that could have gone better. You okay Les?" I looked around seeing nothing but darkness and a few pillars in the distance. "Les?"
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Entry Three: This Search Engine Stinks
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"Les!" There was an odd quietness about my voice, despite shouting rather loudly. In hindsight, when entering a new space or level, it's generally a better idea to keep entirely quiet, as you never know who or what may be listening. I was, however, more concerned for the well-being of my friend than I was my own health and safety. Well, Les wasn't anywhere to be found despite that we both ran through that doorway at the same time. Okay, what's my situation? 
I stood up and dusted off my pants and shirt. Thankfully I didn't get hurt from that sudden drop. It was dark, but not so dark that I couldn't see. There was this kind of limit to my vision, maybe about 50-60 feet? There was a pillar in the distance, I'll walk towards that. As I walked, the pillar kept getting larger and larger, it was a tad further than I was even expecting. Once I arrived, I marveled at its sheer size. 
I put my hand on the pillar and admired its smooth Greek style architecture. "Limestone?" I mumbled to myself as I looked up to see whether or not it was a Doric, Ionic, or Corithian inspired pillar. "Well... that just keeps on going, doesn't it?" No matter how much I squinted my eyes, I had no hopes of seeing the top of that pillar. 
It was odd that I could see at all now that I think about it. There is no light source from above, seeing that it's so dark, I can't even see the tops of the pillars. I looked at the smooth ground. It was pristine and perfectly flat as far as the eye could see, which again, wasn't very far. "Well, I guess the light will remain a mystery." At least I won't need to waste battery on my tablet for a flashlight on this level. Now that I think about it, I should probably figure out what level I'm on. 
I powered on my tablet, put in the password. Yeah, I figured there wouldn't be Wi-Fi here. Good thing I have the database on backup. "Let's see... dark and pillar is all I have to go by at the moment..." I typed in 'dark pillar' in the search function. "Resonance. Looks like a story set in level 37. I wish I was there instead of here. I bet level 37 would be the best vacation spot in the backrooms." I clicked back to find the next article. Next was 'The Night' which is an entity, or multiple files of an entity. Kind of a confusing article honestly. 
"Okay here we go. Level 0.5, let's check this out." Glad to see some levels, I clicked and jumped in the article. "Well, the carpet immediately disqualifies this one. Plus, this place isn't nearly blue enough. Good thing too, looks like there's a terrifying entity there. I don't want to have to deal with that." Next was the futuristic halls of level 15. I wouldn't be a very good M.E.G. researcher if I didn't at least know the first 20 levels or so. "I ain't in level 15, though that wouldn't be so bad if I was."
Next was level 332. I clicked on the article and immediately regretted it. Despite my app being in 'dark mode', I swear the article was as bright as the sun. "Whew, no, I'm not on 332. Geeze..." Level 63? "Islands and sandy beaches? I swear this search function is broken." Level 191. "A Blanket of Ash n' Snow. Nope, not there." I looked around, I wish I had more to go on. I could explore a little more, but I would really like to know where I was before getting myself into big trouble. I sighed to myself as I mumbled "one more" and buried my face back into the soft glow of the tablet.
"Level 412. Surrounding Darkness. Well, the dark part checks out. Unsafe, unstable, presence of lethal entity. Class 5." I could feel a lump forming in my throat. Then my heart sank when I saw the photo. The pillars... Though they were more frequently shown in the photo versus what I could see, these pillars looked identical to the one I was seeing right now. "Shoot. This isn't good." I could feel my heart rate increase which isn't ideal. Panic will get me in deep trouble; I just need to remain calm and keep my wits about me. 
"Okay, columns, darkness. Check, check. Absent light source, glad they noticed that too. Sounds don't echo, check. Isolation property? So maybe Les is here after all, I just can't see or hear him. Hope he is doing okay..." After reading a section about fissures and its correlation to the dangerous entity, I looked around to see if there were any fissures nearby. "Would a flashlight help?" I powered on my tablet's flashlight, and it did help some, I could see the next pillar about 150 feet away. I looked up. I still couldn't see the top. 
"Entities, here we go. The Devourer." Oh God. I couldn't stop the panic any longer. "I have 1 hour, and I've spent 20 minutes reading these damn articles." A classic tentacle monster with sharp teeth. What is this, the Halls of Moria? I skipped down to the most important part of the article: Exits. "Okay so a blue circle on a pillar acts as a portal to level 37. I guess I can get my vacation after all."
I stowed my table in my handy toolbox and made haste, walking from pillar to pillar, observing each in detail. I was hoping to find that blue circle. I wasn't sure how big the circle was supposed to be, but that was my best chance of getting out of here. So far, each pillar looked exactly the same. This isn't good. I was starting to feel sick. "I'm getting too old for this." I got to a point after about 45 minutes where the pillars stopped appearing. 
I slowed my movement when eventually I stopped at a large crack in the ground. It was an endless pit that stretched on forever. It was too wide for me to even think about jumping across. Anxiety started to climb up to my eyeballs from my stomach. Something was in there. I could feel it whispering to that part of the brain that connects to your spine, the brain stem, I think? There weren't words per say, but whatever this thing was, wanted me dead or in its belly. I didn't intend on sticking around long enough to find out. 
I backed up from the fissure and made a light jog along the side. I was definitely approaching the hour mark. "What's that? A bridge?" Well, that's handy. It was made of limestone, like the pillars, but it was darker in color. I stepped on the bridge and the first thing that hit my mind was "run." Run I did. I ran as though the bridge itself was going to swallow me whole if I didn't cross it fast enough. I was going to die, I knew it. 
I ran past several more pillars before I slowed down my pace. The further I got from that fissure, the better I felt. I knew that I had past my hour mark, and doom would be quickly approaching. I paused at another pillar, catching my breath. I put my hand on the smooth limestone, admiring its craftsmanship. Still no blue circle. I took a deep breath. Focus. I need to focus. I have a goal, I have a plan, I just need to keep my cool and focus. Then I could feel it, the vibrations in the ground. It was time to move. 
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Entry Four: Always Linked into Trouble
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No words could describe the dread I felt as I saw the black tentacle reaching out towards me in the darkness. I knew I didn't have time to freeze, I didn't have time to think. I weaved and ducked around the pillar I was standing in front of as the tentacle grasped the granite column. I felt the ground tremble as I weaved from column to column as that monstrosity licked its circular lips with murder in its eyes.
The creature jumped at me as I barely dodged another pillar. I heard a crash behind me followed by a crackling noise of what I assumed was the pillar itself, breaking underneath entity's immense weight. This thing was huge, and I assumed, very hungry.
I decided to zigzag from structure to structure, imagining being chased by a bull or crocodile. I need to find a blue circle, and fast. I can't keep this pace much longer; these old bones are pushing as hard as they can. I guess I've been lucky up until this point. I'm doomed now, it's over... Wait... There!
Oh, like a shining beacon, the winning prize, it was a beautiful sight, I just had to get to it. The famed blue circle, and it was just the right size for me to jump through. I guess I still have a little bit of luck left in me after all. 
I dashed in a full, dead sprint towards my prize. I knew this was my last chance of survival. My feet left the ground as I leaped into the air, hands out, ready for impact. But my feet didn't fly far. Time froze for a second as the tight grip of the tentacle grasped my left foot. I was just inches from the portal. I fell short, and I knew this was my final demise.
Unfortunately, I didn't land through the pillar, but strangely enough I didn't hit the floor either, and since I'm still writing, you could probably guess I also didn't end up in that monster's maw. No, it seems that I no-clipped right through the floor, and to my dismay, I didn't land in a vacation resort either. 
In a panic, I scrambled myself to my feet as fast as I could, as the ground was moving. Not fast mind you, but fast enough to add even more fear to what I was already experiencing. It was a tight tunnel, entirely made of chains. Big chains, small chains, all moving in a circular motion. It was loud, very loud, and musky with a rusty stench. Honestly, this was a really scary place by sight alone. 
My stomach was churning as I was starting to feel nauseous, partially due to the overexertion, but also because of the constant, fluid movement of the rotating chains. The space was large enough for me to walk, but both of my shoulders could nearly touch either side. I had to constantly adjust my footing as well, just to be able to stay on my feet. This was a truly awful place, but at least for now, I was still alive.
I wonder if Les made it out of 412. Les was crafty, and I was hoping that the monster prioritized me instead of him. If I were to ever see him again, I would need to make it back to 444, where we were both assigned. We were both highly valued and good at our jobs. M.E.G. wasn't perfect, as our first wanderer experienced with his only M.E.G. encounter, but the group had provided us with safety, supplies, and shelter in exchange for our professional skills. Yeah, we can get bogged down with processes and bureaucracy at times, but as a whole, the M.E.G. isn't bad people.
Well, I still have my head on my shoulders, so I guess I should probably use it. Rotating rusty chains. Probably an easy search. Miraculously, I managed to keep a hold of my toolbox in my latest escape. I had to take a moment to admire the quality of this toolbox. I made quite the scene with this thing in tow, and it escaped scratch free, unlike myself. Well, bruises will heal.
I was lost in thought when suddenly something dropped from above me and landed on my head. Naturally, I flew backwards, hitting my butt on the unforgiving, metal studded ground. Speaking of bruises... Now what in Sam hell even was that? I Managed to scramble back to my feet again to investigate the long organic something-or-other that had landed on the ground after my 'less than graceful' tumble to the ground.
I picked it up and examined the metal-colored atrocity. Snakeskin? Oh no, I don't do snakes. Spiders or snakes are a no-no for me. Yup, it's time to go. A quick search of "rotating chains" gave me Level 192 immediately. I skimmed most of the details to the end of the article where it simply stated to keep walking, you'll find an exit eventually. 
Great... snakes and chains while livin' on a prayer. Just the excitement I was looking for. Well, I had better get started. I gazed up at the dizzying ceiling. Well, at least at the moment, I don't see any snakes, not that I was even sure that I would be able to see on anyways. They were the same color as the chains. 
I attempted to walk forward. After maybe six or seven steps, I had to pause. The vertigo. I was starting to feel really sick. I couldn't really close my eyes either as I would lose my balance. The chains were not fast by any means, and it wasn't difficult to walk on, but visually, it was a nightmare. I used to get sick on roller coaster rides, but this was much worse. I was parched too, which wasn't helping. I guess that's my own fault for not being prepared. Never leave base without some almond water.
After a few moments of collecting myself, and finally deciding that my motion-sick pity-party wasn't going to rescue my ass, I finally kicked myself in the rear and began moving again. It was a slow go at first, but I eventually got a rhythm. I proudly found my sea legs. Well, metal chain legs. 
Now the path wasn't exactly linear, in fact, I don't even think I would call it a path. I more or less just fit through whatever hole the chains would allow me to fit through. Sometimes these holes would shift, making it impossible for me to return to where I was going. I would really hate to get trapped in a shrinking room that eventually just grinds me into a puddle of flesh and fluid. 
I made it to a crossroad where I either had to crawl on my hands and knees or sidestep for as far as I could see. I know for a fact my knees weren't ready for a gruesome trip like that, and I didn't know of any knee replacement surgeries in the backrooms, so I opted for the tight corridor where I could sidestep. Good golly miss Molly was it uncomfortable with those chains constantly riding up and down your body in every groove and crevice you owned. I almost abandoned my toolbox at one point, but I decided against it. Maybe my writing efforts could help someone else in the future if I ended up like poor Aaron or his brother.
Up ahead I could see movement along the chains. It moved at a similar speed and direction of the chains, so I suppose I was lucky to see it at all, but there it was, a smooth, metallic looking snake. I could see it positioning itself in a high up, ambush position. I really wish I had a stick. Knowing the backrooms, this thing was most definitely venomous. I looked at my tablet again. The battery was getting kind of low, 16%. Sure enough, black mamba level venomous.
I really want out of here. I'd almost take the giant tentacle monster over this. I eased myself towards the serpent as it readied its strike pose. I got just far enough away from it to not have my face directly in striking range, but close enough I could wave my toolbox in front of its face, hoping it would strike. 
Now, a good plan is a good plan, and it's not like I had anywhere else to go. The snake lashed out against that plastic toolbox and the little feller fell straight on the ground. Now I had a fair share of dealing with rattlers down in sweet home Alabama, so I knew one of these danger noodles couldn't hardly operate without a head. I stomped that poor SOB with the heel of my boot. Little feller didn't stand a chance. Well, one obstacle out of the way. 
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Entry Five: Maybe the Snakes are Alright
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You know Les and I used to go on long walks in level 444? Not in like a romantic-date kind of walk, we just like to get steps in. Yeah, we both agreed that we weren't interested in any sort of relationship past friendship a long time ago. It made work much easier that way. I don't think either one of us had any feelings of that sort for each other anyways.
Well, despite our drive for fitness, at least the walking aspect of it, you know how tiring it gets when you can't stop? Like at all? Not to mention how uncomfortably hot and humid this level was. I was officially pooped. I had been walking for hours and hours. Honestly, I don't know how long I had been walking. Now that I think about it, it had only taken me about 3, maybe 4 hours to get from Base 4-CT in 444 to level 192.
Well, I was getting hungry, really hungry. On top of that, I was parched too. Not a good combo. I started thinking about that snake. Thankfully I hadn't seen another one in hours, but I was remaining cautious. I wonder if I could eat one of those snakes, if push came to shove? I don't really have a way to cook it, and is it really worth getting food poisoning if I tried it? I know they were venomous, so I doubt they were poisonous too.
I tried to push the thought out of my mind. I need to focus on the task at hand: getting out of here. Supposedly an exit should just appear out of nowhere. Out of nowhere, I always will BS into existence, I swear. Good thing I have quick reflexes. I grabbed onto a chain on the wall next to me as I prevented myself from plunging into a deep, endless hole that just spawned itself into reality.
I looked down as I regained my balance, despite my moving handrail. Yeah, I don't want to fall into that. I couldn't imagine the pain. I'm sure I would be lost forever. I stepped back and considered my options. The hole wasn't really that big; I could probably clear the jump, though, was it worth the risk? I looked behind me. How badly do I want to retrace my steps? I'd rather not waste any effort and walking.
I looked back at the hole, well I tried to. The hole had vanished. It disappeared as quickly as it opened up. Imagine falling in and it closes behind you. I shuddered at the thought. Well, it was solid... it was ground again so I had better keep moving. I still did a little jump as I crossed this invisible barrier, just to be sure. 
The next few hours were fairly uneventful. I was getting more and more dehydrated due to the heat; my head was hurting more and more due to the dehydration and the noise and the constant rotation of the chains. Have I mentioned how much I hate it here? My knees hurt, my feet hurt, my back hurts. This was truly awful.
It wasn't too long after my self-pity party that I was once again faced with another snake. This one actually jumped out at me before I spotted it officially. I guess I just got lucky again and I didn't get bit. I repeated my snake handling procedure as I did before and got in my second snake kill. I picked up its lifeless body, occasionally feeling a muscle twitch here and there. "I'mma hold on to you, little feller. My tummy is almost rattlin' louder than these 'ole chains here. You ain't a smoked brisket or a pulled pork sandwich, but you might be my dinner if I can find a way to cook ya." I stowed the murder rope in my toolbox for safekeeping. It wasn't bleeding so I wasn't afraid of it ruining my notebook. 
A few more hours passed, and I was sure I had been walking for at least a day. I was so dizzy. I could barely keep my eyes open. The only thing that kept me awake was the fear of another hole opening up in the floor to swallow me up. Exhaustion and dehydration for me is a better death than that. Hell, I'd take the snakes over that. 
I wonder what my kid would have thought about this place? I used to tease him about the chains he used to wear on his pants. "It's not just a phase mom!" I chuckled. Well, the fashion was, but he never changed. I'm glad too, he was a good kid. Grown up now though I suppose, might even have kid of his own. My mild laughter turned to tears quicker than I expected. I will never meet my grandkids. My own son will never know what had happened to me.
He knows I wouldn't just abandon him. I thought about my husband. He was a good man. I missed him terribly. It wasn't fair, we both vowed: 'til death do we part, but we separated way too soon. I was one of the lucky few that had it easy after no-clipping into the backrooms. I found my way out of level 0 in maybe a day. It wasn't long before I found M.E.G. in level 1. They told me that most people never even found their base due to level 1 being practically infinite in size.
I guess luck had followed me around, but if I was so lucky, why was I even in the backrooms in the first place? I never asked for this? Les never asked for this. Aaron, Manny, Elmer, the other guy, they never asked for this. Truly, none of us in this God forsaken hellhole is considered lucky. What did we do to deserve this endless punishment? What did my son do to deserve losing his mamma? What did my husband do to deserve losing his better half?
Now look at that. It was a marvel to see. Well, I guess whatever demonic force that rules over this purgatory heard my prayers. In front of me was a metal doorway. Industrial in style. I didn't waste a second; the door was heavy, or I was just sapped of all my energy, but I pulled with all of my might. The door slowly creaked open. It was solid flooring, and the coast was clear. I did a small jump to get off of the rotating chains and landed on the stiff carpet.
I let the door slam shut behind me. I knew the passage to that level would most likely disappear, but I didn't care. I'd be happy if I never saw another chain again. This place was quiet. Eerily quiet. Around me was wood panels. I chuckled to myself at the sight of the room before me. I had a home that looked just like this in the 80's. People imagine bright psychedelic colors and big posters for decor in the 80's but it was actually all wood. EVERYTHING was wood. I did have a few posters though.
The wood was surprisingly natural, if not deteriorated. The place felt old, really old. The carpet was in surprisingly good shape though. It reminded me of what you'd see at church. It was grey, synthetic, sturdy, not at all soft. I could hear creaking and crackling in the distance around me. It would be unsettling for most, as though someone was walking around nearby, but I knew old wooden places like this would groan and moan due to the structure just settling. I wasn't too worried. 
I checked my tablet to see where I could possibly be. 0% battery. Well, I should have expected that. As I fooled with my tablet, I heard shuffling and moving from within my toolbox... THE SNAKE. It turns out, the deadly spaghetti wasn't as dead as I thought it was. It slowly slithered out of the box. Poor guy. Now I don't like snakes, at all, but I felt bad for him. Little guy barely woke up and got another boot right to the back of its head. 
I was sure to double check that it was dead this time. Hmmm... if it was still alive, then it was still fresh. Being a M.E.G. member, I did have survival training, and though I didn't have much in terms of supplies, I was surrounded by very dry wood. The room I was in was big enough, that if I started an insignificant enough fire in the middle, I wouldn't be at risk of burning down the whole level. I could manage it and cook up this garden hose with teeth.
I was so tired, but just a little more of a push. I went to the nearest wall in order to test the structural integrity. I'll kick here... a kick there... this one! I gave a good hard kick with my boot, and it cracked right on up. This boot is 3 for 3 as a weapon. I began tearing up the wall, kicking up lots of dust. I made a small pile of wood in the middle of the room, making sure to prioritize the smaller pieces first. I rubbed the two roughest and sturdiest sticks together vigorously. I closed my eyes as the world was spinning. This is going to take a while.
After about 20 or 30 minutes of constant, steady friction, I started to see smoke form and like a dream: the first spark. Its orange ember glowed like a firefly in a summer's evening. It was beautiful. Due to the rest of the pile of wood being very old, and very dry, the fire wasn't difficult to catch after that. Now unfortunately the carpet was catching fire, but I was able to keep the carpet fire smothered with my boots as my linguine of death cooked on the flames. 
Once I felt that the fire was reasonably under control, I hiked around the complex until I found an outlet. It was just in the next room. I plugged up my charger then returned to my campfire. I grabbed my dinner and extinguished the flame with my boots. 4 for 4 for the boots. 10 out of 10 best thing to have in the backrooms were a good pair of boots. 
Of course, the skin of the snake wasn't very edible, and I avoided the head so that I wouldn't get poisoned by the venom, but once I got passed the skin, the meat wasn't half bad. It was tough, gamey, lacked flavor, but it was something for my stomach. I sat on the floor next to the new burn mark in the carpet. Sure, the ground wasn't very soft, but it was feeling mighty cozy and comfortable to me. I laid down on my back, looking up at the dim lights. The sensation was intoxicating. Its mild buzz sounded like a lullaby to my ears as I quickly drifted off to sleep. 
== ==
== ==
Entry Six: Hold the Line by Toto
== ==
"Hold the liiiine! Love isn't always! Love isn't always! Love isn't always on tiiime!"
Nothing beats live music. Nothing! Everyone knows Toto for their song "Africa" but they have so much more music to give the world! I looked over at my husband. He's so handsome. He wasn't the music lover that I was. I mean, he loved music, just not to the level that I loved music. Still, even he wouldn't miss a live concert with Toto. 
The lead guitar screams out in a melodic solo, the kind of melody only strings could express. The drums were in perfect time, in such a way that only a well-seasoned band could manage. It really made my blood pump. It was so energizing.
"It's not in the words that you told me. It's not in the way you say you're mine, oooh!"
I could tell my dear sweet hubby was having a great time too. He was a very serious man out in public, retired marine, big boss in his department. A lot of people don't realize how sweet he really is. The man had a heart of gold. He gave my hand a loving squeeze and stole a glance over at me and gave me a smile. 
"It's not in the way that you came back to me. It's not in the way that your love set me free."
Free... my smile faded as did the music. It faded into silence. The smiling face of my husband also dissipated as reality turned to blackness. Freedom. Freedom is an illusion. Freedom doesn't exist where love is absent. 
"Toto, hold the line for me just a little longer please." I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I desperately tried to reconnect with that bittersweet memory. "Let me stay just a little longer. Please" I was sobbing, curled up in a fetal position next to my burned carpet and toolbox. A discarded snakeskin only a few feet away. I didn't want to wake up, I didn't want to leave my husband again. I never wanted to leave in the first place.
I laid there, screaming. I didn't care who or what heard me. "How can I carry on without you! I can't do this anymore!" I slammed my fist on the ground in furious rage. How could life be so cruel? What worse pain could there be than for a mother to be ripped away from her child, a wife to be torn away from her beloved? No physical torture could amount to this.
It took a few minutes, maybe an hour before I could collect myself enough to sit up. I was still dizzy from dehydration, but at least I was still alive. I was still kicking, for now at least. Well, I had to keep moving, no matter what. I managed to climb to my feet and dust off my body the best I could. I hardly noticed before I fell asleep, but this place was really dusty.
I walked on over to the next room and powered on my tablet. 100% battery. Well, that's one positive thing, I guess. Let's see, wood rooms, gray carpet. Level 808, Snow and wood walls. "Looks fancy, but not my level." Level 699? "Ha! I wish!" Next. "Ah, here we go, level 27, this is it." So just like my previous level, I'll just walk into my next exit. No specifications of where I'll end up. I'll just end up somewhere.
I guess I'll need to be careful, so I don't end up in another hellscape deadzone. On the bright side, looks like this level is void of any entities, though that means no snake snacks. I figure, I have about 2 days to go before I die of dehydration, so I either get to embrace sweet, sweet death, or I maybe I can finally plunge into the pools of level 37.
I took the time to write in my notebook like I had promised that I would do, and I stowed everything away. I kept my tablet plugged in so that I could keep it at full charge once I traveled. When I was sure that I was rested enough, I made my way into the labyrinth of these gloomy wooden halls. There were times that I felt like I was on a ship, partly from me still recovering from the vertigo I had acquired in level 192, but also from the constant knocking and creaking of the wood.
There were times when I swear someone was trying to communicate to me through the walls via mores code. Well, if what I read in the database was correct, I had a 0% chance of finding anyone on this level, so I had better just remain focused. After about an hour of walking I paused in shock and confusion. "Wha... what?"
I was looking at a part of a wooden wall that was torn up. "Oh no...." I looked down. Burnt carpet. "Oh God, why?" I had made one big circle. I looked over at the snake carcass. "This is your doing, isn't it? You cursed me for eating you, didn't you?" What a jerk. What should I do? I looked up at the ceiling. It was a false ceiling. I doubt there was anything above it, but I bet I could use that snake like a rope and move that ceiling out of place.
I grabbed the tail of the snake. It was scorched but the back was relatively intact. It took a few practice swings, but I was able to dislodge a ceiling tile over to the right. Now I can mark my path. I won't be getting lost and walking in circles anymore. "Thanks, little guy. You may have tried to kill me, but you've ended up saving me twice now."
I hit the trail again, this time, aside from attempting to pick different directions than before, I marked my way of travel by knocking ceiling tiles. A few times I managed to loop back on myself, but thanks to my new trail markers, I was able to navigate and find new paths. Where everything looked almost exactly the same, this was crucial for me in covering more ground. 
I needed to escape I needed to be free. Freedom... There it was again. I hope my family was holding on the line without me. I hope they know that I will always love them, no matter what. No matter how far away I was, no matter what dimension I was in, I would always love them. I will never forget how much I love them; how much I care. 
After about 12 hours of walking, taking breaks as I needed them, I found a dark corner to camp for the night. Sleep was a bit harder to find than it was last time, but I managed eventually. It wasn't a nice slumber, my mind wandered way too much. I didn't remember any sweet dreams this time either, torturing me with beautiful memories, but eventually I did wake up and began my second day. 
I tried moving again but my legs felt like jelly. I coughed as I stretched my arms and legs out, up and down, side to side. This dust was getting to me. I knew after a few minutes of walking, I'd get back into my rhythm again. Sure enough, I did, though my joints were starting to rub and grind. I thought about level 699. "You don't even feel pain there. Plus, the spas." Oh yeah, that sounds really nice.
It's odd, scattered across these crazy deadly and horrible levels in the backrooms, occasionally, you'll find a paradise. They're rare, but a lot of people, when they find them, they try to stay forever. I chuckled as I thought about the original author of this notebook. He managed to find one of the absolute best levels in the entire backrooms, only to fall out of it after only one day. "That's some dumb luck if I've ever heard of it."
My daydreams were effective in keeping my mind occupied, but my fatigue, hunger, and thirst was wearing me down. "At least in level 0, it's possible to find a rare item or a bottle of almond water." There wasn't a single resource here. Well, there was wood, but that didn't help me out much with the situation I was in now.
I found another corner for my third attempt at sleep. I was honestly hoping that I wouldn't wake up this time. This was too much. If I died, at least I went out trying hard, doing my very best. Unfortunately, I woke up again. Getting up this time was much harder. I had to hold onto the walls to keep my balance as I could no longer stand on my own.
I had also given up with marking my path, as I no longer had the strength to fling the old nope rope at the ceiling tiles. I still kept him though. Maybe if I do somehow survive this, I can turn a fang into a necklace or something. I don't think I am going to survive this though. "It is what it is." That was going to be my last words. At least I was going out like a bad ass. 
After 4 hours of walking, I stopped and dropped to my knees. "I can't do this anymore." I closed my eyes. I wish I could say I cried, but I was out of tears. I pictured my husband's face. That stolen glance. That sweet, loving smile. 
"Just a few more rooms sweetie." I know it was my delusion, but I could hear his voice.
"Okay baby, I'll do it for you." Just two more rooms and a simple wooden door appeared around the corner. He was right. I pushed through, never even considering looking back. 
"Hold the line. Love isn't always on time." This time, it was.
== ==
Entry Seven: Dipping into that Stream of Luck
== ==
I nearly slipped on the smooth white tiles as I stumbled my way through the door. Oh God! I'm saved! Water! I rushed to the side of the pool and dropped to the ground. The fall hurt, but I didn't care. I started gulping the clear water. I was feeling dizzy from the sensation. I almost fell in at one point. It's been so long since I've drank water.
I pulled my head out of the pool, making a whipping motion with my greasy black hair. Yeah, it's greasy, so what? I've been hauling ass for half a week now, fighting for my life. You try and look good while doing what I just did. 
I laid back on the hard tiles. Allowing the sensation of finally drinking cold water fill me up with joy. Wow I was tired. I couldn't get my head to stop spinning. I moved my head side to side. I didn't have the strength to sit up yet, let alone stand Maybe I can at least see about where I am?
I looked past the water I just drank from and there was a yellow and blue, tubular slide with a steady stream of water pouring out of it. The sounds were soothing, and the air was warm and humid. I took a deep breath. Getting out of that dust was nice and breaths were a lot easier here. 
I leaned back over into the pool and took another drink. I remembered to try and take it slow. I wouldn't re-hydrate immediately. The tiles were all white, ceramic, I think. The place was designed as sort of an indoor, water-themed amusement park. Across the room was another pool. Of course, my doorway to level 27 was gone. Well, good riddance to that. 
I managed to sit up and look around. The rooms appeared to be separated by large hallways and I could just see the next room past the walls. I could occasionally hear a large quantity of water being dumped into a large pool in the next room over. "This is nice. It's not level 37, at least I don't think it is. Could be a sub-level? But this is still nice. Maybe I'll get my vacation after all. I need one after what I just went through." I took another drink from the pool.
I unlatched my toolbox and pulled out my tablet. Though I was still hungry, at least I had a constant source of water here. I might as well see if I can make the most of this place. "Let's see..." Looking around again to try and figure out my search terms. Nice, there seems to be Wi-Fi here.
"Uhh... pools I guess?" I hit enter and good Lord were there a lot of results. Half of them were level 37 sub-levels. "Why are there so many damned pool levels in the backrooms? Let's try this again." Pools and slides maybe? The first result was level 71. Slides and pools, that checks out. Big windows with no glass? I looked up at the nearest window. Well, from down here, I have no idea if there's glass or not.
The next search result was level 800. "Gah! Black text on a red background! My eyes!" Alright, play place, slides, ball pits. Looks like a Chuck E Cheese, level fun kind of deal. I think it's a newer level in the database. "Not here thankfully. I don't need that kind of turmoil in my life." Next result was level 30. "Here we go. It looks just like this. Still could be 71 but I'm voting for here."
I thumbed through the article. "Class 3 difficulty but the only issue here is the Hydrolysis Plague, not too bad if you know what you're looking fo..." I looked at the water that I had been drinking. I took a deep breath, taking in all the aromas, observing the movement and current of the water. "I think I'm safe so far. Hydrolysis likes stagnant water and usually smells and looks dirty." I took another drink. If I die, I die.
Some of these levels are misclassified in my opinion. Or maybe if you just know what you're doing, class 3's are totally survivable, so long as you know what you're doing. I've been in level 444 for years and I've survived, no problem despite it being a class 3 difficulty. It looks like there are resources here, and possibly people. I had better look around then.
I started walking down the halls, room to room. I did finally see what was making that loud spill noise. It was one of those big buckets that fill up with water and would reach a tipping point and then spill out all of its contents into the pool, all at once. My kid would have loved that when he was little. No. No time for tears or nostalgia, I need to focus. 
I kept walking and wandering, exploring, searching. I need to find something to eat. I have water, but sustenance was now a top priority. None of the rooms were the same. I wandered into one room that looked like a grotto, with a gazebo kind of structure in the middle. It was pure white and honestly beautiful. This looked like a hang-out area for adults. I wonder if there is a bar anywhere? A stiff drink doesn't sound half bad if I'm being completely honest. 
Next up looked like some sort of lazy river complex. It snaked around a small play area and flowed through to the next hallway. So far, the layout of this level is really linear, which is really nice since the last level I was in was a complete maze. "I don't think I will get lost here." The water rides, slides, and attractions were actually rather inviting. I wanted to dive in and give them a try, but I stopped myself. "Stay on task Tammy. You can play later."
It wasn't too long before I found what looked like to be a snack area with some stale chips and pretzels. Food is food. I ate every last scrap of junk I could find. At least the starches and the carbs would provide me with some temporary energy, even if they were rather void of much nutrition. "At least there is food on this level, and if I found this as quickly as I did, either I'm lucky or resources are fairly abundant here." I finished my food and drank out of a nearby water fountain. I was sure to smell the water that came out before drinking it. 
"This ain't a bad spot." There was a counter near the back of the inlet area that I was sitting in. Behind the counter was a small drawer that had silver coins in it. I didn't recognize the currency at all, but I figured I'd grab them just in case I find a vending machine or something here. "Hey! Is that jerky?!" Score. I'll scarf that down too. 
Today has been a long, long day and I was really feeling the effects of complete and total exhaustion. For now, I have food, I have water. I feel safe, and I have a cozy space to hide in. The tiles looked cold and hard, but oddly comfortable. "I think I've earned some rest." I laid down on my back and closed my eyes, my head was still spinning from over exertion, but I was in a much better place. Maybe I'll luck out and have another sweet dream.
== ==
Entry Eight: Crimson Tide
== ==
I wasn't exactly sure how long I slept, but that was definitely some of the best sleep I've had in days. I stood up and stretched out my back and hips, followed by my arms and legs. After a big yawn and a few deep breaths, I walked on over to the water fountain and took a nice, long drink. There's nothing better than a good drink of water right after you wake up. I wasn't sure how long I slept, but the windows were darker which I assumed indicated nighttime. Day and night cycles were different for each level. For all I knew, the next three months would be nighttime. 
I sat down a nearby table and opened up my tablet. It was time for a new game plan. I was in a relatively safe level with resources and for once, I wasn't pressed to just escape wherever I was on a matter of life or death. Okay, so level 30, entrances and exits. "I need to go back to level 444. Hopefully find Les, assuming he's still alive, and assuming he also got back to level 444. Knowing him, he'll make it there before I do." So, for exits, we have level 4, 84, 37... there's that vacation spot. Level 357 and 597.
Okay, 597 is a class 4, preferably not through there. Oh, 357 looks incredible, wow! I might look into that one. Level 37, it's tempting to try for that one, but this is like a "37" on its own, but with food. Level 84 looks like a level 11 but unstable. Level 4 is nice too, but I'm really liking the idea of level 357, plus it has a M.E.G. base. "Just need to find a jungle-themed door. Oooo! It's like a party!" I chuckled and smiled to myself. This won't be bad at all! 
I was feeling triumphant with my new game plan when I suddenly remembered level 13, or rather what it used to be. That's right, I had a mission, didn't I? There was an email, on a very specific computer, by a guy named Harold, Hector? I flipped through my notebook. "Henry Sunter, that's right." He was on level 4 when he sent that email. You know, I'm pretty sure level 4 leads to 11, which is one of the main entrances into level 444. "Not only is that my quickest route, but it's relatively safe, and I might can investigate Henry, assuming I could find anyone on level 4 that is." It's a big place, but there were people on that level, and usually some sort of M.E.G. presence, even though we didn't have an official outpost there. 
Well, that's kind of disappointing, 357 sounded real nice. "But I won't find any answers in 357 now, will I?" I stowed my notebook and tablet in my toolbox. I'll need to make good of my time while I'm here on this level, which means not only eating and drinking, but stocking up on supplies. I looked around for any more snacks, but I unfortunately couldn't find any in the area I was in. "Welp, time to hit the trail then." I started off in the same direction as yesterday. The progression of this level was surprisingly linear. 
After a few rooms I was delighted to see a hot tub. "Oh, that looks nice... No! Nooope! Stick to the plan Tammy!" The next few hours were uneventful until I reached a room sporting a large play complex with a very large, blue slide jetting into the pool below. 
"How about you one: stay the fuck off my slide! Two: leave me the hell alone and find your own damn slide!" At the top of the play complex was a stout man, seemingly short, yet somehow tall compared to the handrails he was looking over. Standing below, just outside the pool were four men, tactically dressed in dark clothing with supply belts and armored vests. They looked military, or some sort of authority figures. 
"Just come down! We don't want trouble; we just want information and maybe some trade?" The man in front shouted up to the king of the playground. I assumed he was the leader. 
"Absolutely not. For one, you all look like assholes, and I have an asshole, my own asshole. I don't need four more assholes. And two, I don't like your tone." The man at the top proudly displayed a middle finger to the four troops at the bottom. I approached the squad, trying not to be discreet as you don't want to sneak up on these military types. The man looked down to me from his kingdom. "Great, now there's a MEG asshole here too, just what I needed." How did he know I was M.E.G.? 
The leader of the squad looked back towards me and pulled out a knife, the other three followed suite. "Hold it! Friend or foe?" The leader pointed the tip of his knife in my direction.
I slowly but purposefully placed my toolbox on the ground and raised my hands in the air. "Friend, and I am unarmed!" I patted myself to show I didn't have anything hiding, hidden on my body anywhere. "I'm Tammy, and yes I am from MEG." It was always a gamble when introducing myself as a M.E.G. member. Most people didn't mind us, but there were a few that absolutely despised us. M.E.G. had a tendency to over-step their bounds and that upset a few people. Well, hopefully they weren't the violent type. Actually, the more I think about it, I really wish I stayed quiet on that part.
"MEG? Do you know this asshole?" The leader pointed up towards Mr. High and Mighty. The man at the top promptly provided a second middle finger to display at us below. 
"No idea, sir. Hey, do you know the quickest route to level 4?" Might as well chance it right? 
"Funny enough, that's where we're headed. We were HOPING this VERY lovely person could give us information since he's obviously lived a very cushioned life here on this level, but he doesn't have the HEART to just help us out!" The squad leader then provided his own middle finger. 
A taller fellow with tanned skin and ashen hair put his hand on the leader's shoulder. "Easy there, Matt. It ain't worth the trouble." Matt held his finger up a moment longer and then finally relaxed. "There yah go man, it ain't worth it." He looked over at me. "The name's Jershon, this is Matt, Zach, and Rashad. We're from the B.A.S. or the Backrooms Analytical Squadron. We're stationed in level 4, and we are researching entrances and exits to and from level 4. It's taken us awhile to get back there, and after accidentally getting here from 37, we would really just like to get back"
"How did you accidentally get here from 37?" I didn't think there was an entrance to here from 37. Then again, the entrance from level 27 wasn't listed on the database either. 
Rashad added in. "Usually 37 can just lead back to level 4. We followed a long, waterless hallway and we somehow ended up here. Kind of bullshit if you ask me." The man was also really tall, looked to be African American with thick rimmed glasses and dreadlocks. His voice was slightly muffled as he was also the only one wearing a mask. 
Zach added in. "You know how to get back to level 4?" This man also had glasses and a nicely trimmed mustache. Where did he find a trimmer? His hair was immaculate too. "We hear there is a way from here, which is good." Well, this one seemed pleasant. Actually, they all appeared rather nice. 
"Yeah, we're looking for an 'employee's only' sign." That was all the database had on the matter. 
Matt jumped back in. "See we've tried that, but so far, we haven't seen hardly any, and the few we have seen, just leads us to maintenance corridors." The man up top must have gotten tired of our conversation as he appears to have disappeared back into his play-castle thing. "You want to band up with us? Seeing as we're going to the same place."
Safety in numbers. I mean, it could be a trap, they might be evil, but I had a good feeling about this group, and I felt like my chances of survival were higher with these guys than without. "I think I would like that. Say, you have any food? Sorry to ask, but some chips and jerky is all I've eaten in the past few days. That and a snake."
"A snake?" Rashad removed his glasses in disbelief. "No ma'am absolutely not. I don't do snakes. Nope nope nope nope nope!"
Jershon slapped Rashad on the chest. "Food you idiot. Give her some energy bars and some almond water." 
"Right. Sorry, here." Rashad promptly removed his pack and grabbed a bottle of almond water and a couple of energy bars. "It's not like MEG to be without supplies. What happened to you?"
Well, that would be a long story. "I uh, had an emergency in 444. Had to evacuate promptly."
Matt joined in. "Sounds like too many 4's for me. Just need one." His accent...
"Matt, you from Alabama?" I saw him smirk.
"Roll Tide." Ew...
"Oh God, not a Bama fan. Now I'm rethinking this whole thing." I rolled my eyes as hard as I could.
"Aw hell, you're an Auburn girl ain't you?" He smirked just like all of those damn Bama fans did. "I guess you can stick around, but we're sworn enemies. Just remember that." He chuckled as I returned with a smile. It's nice to hear a familiar voice, even if it was from a University of Alabama fan.
== ==
Entry Nine: Well, That's a Warm Welcome
== ==
Well, despite being sworn mortal enemies, I decided to join up with Matt's group. With their numbers and abilities along with my access to a database, I figured our odds of getting to where we needed to go were pretty good. We decided to leave the snide, grumpy king of the slide behind as we continued down our ever long path. Despite being trapped in the backrooms, this group of four remained cheerful and chatty, even if they spent most of their time arguing. This was especially true for Jershon and Rashad; they fought like two siblings. Young ones too. Now Zach and Matt didn't banter too much as they mostly reminisced about bourbon and the pristine collections they once had back in their lives in the frontrooms. 
After a week or so of traveling, our surroundings changed. We were no longer in the white tiled section with pool after pool. Rather, we entered into a section that was a lot more decrepit. The rooms were large and still were full of pools and waterslides, but it was dark, rusty, and full of garbage. Machines were loud and often vibrated the ground we walked on. We were careful to try and gather supplies as we went, but I was weary about consuming anything that came from this section. The decor was more focused on the ocean with plants and sea critters made from rusting metal and ceramics. Honestly, the whole place kind of gave me the creeps. 
"Jungle door!" Rashad yelled out mid roast of Jershon. He pointed at a door adorned with vines and exotic birds. 
"Well, good news is that is an exit. Bad news is it is not the one we want. Honestly, that leads to a really nice resort level. I kind of want to go in." I held my breath. I could stay there forever, assignment be damned. No... I have a goal, I have friends, I have a better life than most in the backrooms. 
Zach chimed in. "Tammy, if you want to go through, I wouldn't blame you at all. We'll be fine. Promise." It was kind of him to think of me with such consideration. I simply shook my head. 
"No, it's tempting, but I need to get to level 4. It's important." At least in my mind it was important. 
After yet another week or so of traveling in the dark, checking each door, hoping to find an 'Employees Only' sign, we eventually entered into a new section, adorned with lights. This looked quite different from the first section, as for the first time, it wasn't exactly linear. There were mazes of plastic tube slides snaking and twisting around and under each other. You could hear the motors of machines pumping water to the tops of each of the structures. It looked fun, but I knew places like this were prone to analogous no-clipping. Heck, I could feel the energy. We could all easily get separated and end up in a nightmare within seconds. I thought back to the first wanderer, falling into level 859. That did not sound like a fun place to be. 
Often times pools and slides would block our pathways, but we did our best to go in a somewhat straight line as best as we could. We were sure to try and check the walls and corridors as we traveled and after about 3 days, we managed to find a way out. It was a plain white door inside of an abandoned store, with a sticker across the top in a black font: "Employees Only". Perfect. Though food and supplies were actually rather plentiful on this level, I was ready for a change of scenery. We had been here at least a month. Lucky for me, I had grown quite close to this B.A.S. squad. Matt took the honors of opening the door. 
There was nothing spectacular about the entrance. There were no fireworks or a fanfare, it just opened up into an empty office space. It looked to be nighttime with a light rain outside the windows. We walked through the doorway. As the door shut behind us, the noise from the water and machinery vanished. The quiet pattern of the raindrops on the glass played a quiet symphony, tickling the back of my brain, soothing me of any anxieties. Matt, Zach, Jershon, and Rashad stood next to me, looking out into the peaceful abyss. They were home, and they were tired. I could see Jershon almost tearing up. 
Our peaceful serenity only lasted but a short moment though, as out of nowhere, a wiry figure darted behind Zach and yanked his bag from off his back. Zach stumbled hard and fell backwards onto the ground. The sudden force to Zach's resistance was enough to slow the thief down long enough for Rashad to clothesline the person in the neck, causing them to also hit the ground in a forceful thump. I was very impressed by his quick reaction time. Two more jumped out from around the nearest corner and dashed to tackle Rashad. Only one connected as Jershon used his large stature to lower his shoulder and block the second assaulter. "Bandits!"
The first attacker tried to jump back up into action, but I was quick to put a knee on the upper spine, keeping him down. I wasn't much of a fighter, but I was no wuss either. My years in nursing taught me how to keep even the burliest men at bay, so long as I could keep them down. Rashad stumbled back from the tackle but was reinforced by Matt who started boxing. I don't know all the names of the moves, but he had some jabs, left hooks, right hooks, and upper cuts. He looked like he was a well-seasoned fighter; he knew what he was doing. 
Zach was able to get up from the floor and push himself into a low dive at the feet of the person Jershon was wrestling. I heard something pop and followed by a scream and I knew this poor sap wouldn't be walking again for a few months at least. The man underneath me tried rolling about so I gave a tight squeeze to the back of his head with my right hand, right below the ears and in the temple area. He stopped squirming after that. Matt finished the job with a well-placed jab to the nose which made the man completely stiffen his legs. His sudden knee lock was followed by his eyes rolling to the back of his head with a satisfying collapse onto the floor. 
"Stupid. Absolutely stupid. Even with a surprise attack, it's 3 against 5." Matt walked over to me and gave a nice, solid kick to the man's ribs on the floor. He gave a hard grunt from the sudden pain. "I wouldn't move any more if I were you. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
"Fuuhhh... sorry man. We're desperate." The man on the floor did actually stop moving. The second man was holding his dislocated knee whimpering from the pain. Bandit number 3 is out cold. "So, how do we survive this?" He spoke plainly. I don't know if he was the leader or not, but he was attempting to take charge. 
"What do you mean you were desperate? Level 4 isn't exactly teaming with resources but it's not destitute either." Zach sat up from the floor. He dived a little harder than I thought, and I could see the fatigue in his eyes. It was a classic 'you should see the other guy' scenario though. Zach's combatant tried to put weight on his busted legs and screamed out in agony. Good thing he has two buddies to help him walk. 
"We're just trying to survive man. What do we gotta do for you to let us go?" Jershon looked at Matt, who looked at Zach, who looked at Rashad. Rashad looked at the door we had just came from then looked back at Jershon, who smiled and nodded at Matt. 
"Alright, you take these two idiots with you, give us your almond water supply and walk through that door. We just came from level 30. There's water and food on that level. Just stay out of gross looking water and you should be fine." The man on the floor looked at the door adjacent to the party. It had a brass number 6 posted on the surface. 
"Okay, I have a bag around the corner. It has supplies. Was going to grab it on the dash out." Jershon immediately retrieved the bag from around the corner. Inside looked to be some granola bars and almond water, maybe 3 bottles? Not bad. "Can I at least keep the bag?"
Rashad piped up. "Be grateful I'm letting you keep your teeth." Rashad cracked his neck and knuckles, partly to intimidate, but also due to the fact that, like the rest of us, he was also getting too old for this kind of thing. I finally let the man underneath me go and he stood up. He looked around at his compadres and started slapping the unconscious man in the face. The man grunted and rolled over. He mumbled over the sudden disturbance of induced slumber, but the leader told him to shut up and stand. 
The man complied and they helped the last idiot with the busted knee. They waddled towards the door. Upon opening it, to my surprise, it looked nothing like level 30. It was a giant white hallway as bright as my eyes could handle. They walked through the doorway and closed the door behind them. Due to the force of the door closing, the brass 6 promptly fell off the door and clunked on the ground. Rashad picked up the 6 and twisted the door handle and gave it a gentle push. On the other side was a small, empty office. "We'll probably never see them again."
Matt pulled out a device from his pack while Zach consolidated the new cache of supplies. After a minute or so of Matt tapping on his device, he looked over towards me. "Looks like we're about 40 miles from base. Not the best, but it definitely could be worse." That would probably take 2 or three days depending on how fast we walked. Given that level 4 is potentially infinite, I'm assuming we were pretty lucky to be that close. 
== ==
Entry Ten: A Hot Cup of Joe
== ==
"I've got a question for you fellas. Any of you ever heard of a man named Henry Sunter?" I wasn't sure if Mr. Sunter was even someone that existed in our universe, but I figured it was worth asking. "He was stationed on level 4. A MEG operative I think, but I'm not positive. He had sent an email regarding level 13."
"The garden one?" Jershon's face lit up. "That always seemed like a cool level to visit." 
"No, not exactly. According to this guy, Henry, it was an apartment complex before it was a garden. All of a sudden poof! It was gone. Or so Henry thought. I have another theory." Rashad tilted his head at me. He was looking at me like I had three heads. I don't know why this is such a hard thing to conceptualize. Nothing is normal in the backrooms. 
"What's your theory?" Thankfully, Zach wasn't so quick to judge. 
"Basically, multiple instances of the backrooms exist. You could be wandering in one version then suddenly shift into another parallel, backrooms universe. So, you'll hear about one level that has specific details recorded and you shift realities without knowing it, then you look at that same level in the database and it's completely different. I think it's also possible for fragments of certain realities to sever itself from the reality that it's currently in." I finally decided to take a breath after that long explanation. 
Matt chimed in. "That's not completely crazy. I knew a guy that did maintenance in level 3 that swore to me that partygoers were some clay-looking gumby rip-off that turned people into cakes or something. He refused to accept that they were just regular dudes high off a deadly virus."
Now I was the one looking at Matt like he had three heads. "A clay Gumby that turns people into cakes? Let me guess, did they carry little red balloons too?" We all heartily laughed at the notion. It sounded absolutely ridiculous. Something a child would make up. 
We continued our travels, checking offices and the occasional furniture piece or cabinet for any supplies. Rashad picked up a half full jug of water. It was one of those 5-gallon jugs you'd see in a water cooler. A pretty good find if you ask me. We found an office large enough to accommodate the five of us and we camped out for the night, taking our usual shifts to watch for bandits. 
We didn't talk too much more about my crazy theories that night or the next day. Matt just told me to talk to some of their scientists and researchers to see if they would know. They had some computers they would let me use as well. It took about half a day to finish our journey as we arrived at what looked to be a rather busy base. A tall, dark, skinny man was waiting for us at the base entrance sporting a sinister smirk.
"I knew that was ya'll by that clumsy stampeding. How the hell does a man like Jershon, wander around in the backrooms for years and still manage to stay fat?" The man adjusted his eyes to look at Rashad. "And of course, your zipper would be down."
Rashad immediately grabbed his crotch are and zipped up his zipper, hoping no one else would notice. I hear him mutter "Shit" under his breath. 
"I knew we were close when I smelled the rot. They still letting you open your mouth even when you're poisoning our good air quality in here?" I was impressed with Jershon's speed in his response. 
"Not to mention his smelly ass crack. You know he ain't washed that thing since he's no-clipped into here. The hell is going on with that nest you call hair? Put a hat on that shit, ain't nobody want to look at that shit." Looks like Rashad recovered from his zipper incident.
"I'll put a hat on if you put a mask on to hide that ugly ass face. I think the frontrooms ejected you out just for the sake of mercy. Doin' the world a favor." The man was almost laughing. 
Jershon stepped forward. "I bet that's what your mom did to you, and you escaped into the backrooms to hide your shame." He looked real proud of himself for that one. Rashad on the other hand looked right at him with a side-eye and shook his head. 
"Damn it Jershon. What are you, 12? Your mom? Really? Shanga, you see the kind of bullshit I gotta deal with on a daily basis?" So, his name was Shanga? He didn't look like a Shanga. 
"I put bullshit with bullshit. Dumb and dumber. Ugly and uglier. It's crazy you all managed to survive in one piece. Good thing you had Matt's redneck ass with you. I guess Zach was there too."
"I was more than just there Shanga." Zach appeared genuinely hurt by what Shange said. Matt was laughing his head off. His face was turning as red as his hair. 
Shanga turned towards me, and I held my breath. "How the hell did you put up with these single brain-celled organisms? And I'm pretty sure they all share that one braincell. It was probably you that saved their asses in the first place. What's your name ma'am?"
"The name's Tammy, nice to meet you." I was still really unsure of what exactly was going on. With the exception of Zach, who just looked tired, everyone was laughing. The group approached Shanga and Matt attempted to tap him in the nethers, to which Shanga quickly deflected. 
Rashad gave him a brotherly hug where he quietly told him "Your shoes ugly as hell too." Shanga pushed him along past himself towards the office doors. Jershon goes in for a hug too, but Shanga just shoves him with his palm on Jershon's forehead and walks towards the offices. I wasn't exactly sure what to do, so I just followed them inside. 
Inside the office was impressive. It looked like the B.A.S. managed to find every computer and cubicle on level 4 and put them all together. They had workstations, conference tables, water coolers, storage, anything you'd expect to see in a corporate office. They had a few of the walls broken down, significantly expanding the already large space. 
"So, this is the B.A.S.." Everyone seemed to have a job. Everyone seemed to be responsible for something. I saw my little group gather towards a glass window that looked into an executive office. Shanga was with them, and they appeared to still be insulting each other. Judging by their words, they were mortal enemies. Judging by their faces, they were the closest of friends. 
Shanga gave me a warm smile as I approached him. "What can we do for you Miss Tammy? These idiots tell me you helped them through their surprise stop in level 30, so I suppose we could help you out in some way."
I explained my running theory on the backrooms, I showed him my journal and the specific pages on level 188. I then showed him the email displayed on the level 130 page by Henry Sunter. "I guess what I need now is to either find Henry Sunter, if he's alive or even exists in this universe, or find the computer he used to write that email. I know it's a long shot, but I might as well get some info while I'm here."
"I don't know a Henry Sunter, and to be honest, I haven't seen a M.E.G. base here in a long while. The S.R.C. usually has one or two MEG operators with them at any given time, so they might know... I tell you what. I have a meeting with our database programmers here in about ten minutes. I'll have one of them show you our database and we can see if Henry was ever here. How does that sound?"
"Thank you, Shanga, that sounds wonderful." Maybe they can give me a place to wash myself as well. I could use a bath. A group of folks gathered into the office with Shanga and closed the door. Matt and Zach escorted me to a kitchen area and sat me down for a snack and some almond water. 
"Well, Tammy, what do you think of the Backrooms Analytical Squadron?" Matt took a swig of his cup of almond water. Even the kitchen was buzzing with people going in and out. It was chaotic, but the energy was fun. It felt like my kind of place. 
"I'm impressed with the set-up Mr. Matt. What exactly do you all do around here?" I could smell a fresh pot of coffee brewing on the table behind me. Gosh, they even had coffee here? I'm going to need a cup of that.
Zach smiled as he saw me glance over at the coffee pot. "Don't worry, we'll get you a mug. The B.A.S. is a level 4 exclusive group. There is something odd and familiar about level 4 that connects to the frontrooms more than anywhere else. For example, where else in the backrooms have you seen Dunkin' breakfast blend coffee?" He got me there. I don't think I've even seen coffee in the backrooms. "In the B.A.S., we have scientists, architects, programmers, medics, all sorts of scientists. We think that if we collect and analyze enough data, we might could figure out how level 4 was created, how the backrooms were created, and maybe even how to escape, back into reality. I.E., the frontrooms."
That was a lot to take in. "Those are some big goals. But highly respectable goals. I appreciate y'all accepting me into your group and allowing me to come into your home. It really means a lot to me." And it did. I was certain I could have made it on my own, but I don't know if my sanity would have remained intact. These rowdy boys have kept my spirits up the entire journey. No matter how far we travelled, no matter how tired we got, these men have joked, smiled, and laughed. It was an honor to work with them. 
Matt, at some point had snuck off and returned with a coffee mug. It had a picture of an Excel spreadsheet and it read "Freak in the sheets." I chuckled at the off-color joke and enjoyed a nice, hot cup of Joe. 
I drank some more of that hot, brown cup of liquid gold when Shanga walked in with a skinny little guy, maybe in his late 20's. The scrawny man smiled and waved. "Hey there party people!"
== ==
== ==
Entry Eleven: Happy Stars and Pizza Parties
== ==
Matt looked down at the table, refusing to make eye contact with Shanga and the new guy. "I think I'm going to uh... go find my cot." Matt and Zach both stood up simultaneously and swiftly exited the break area. 
"Tammy, this is Cole. He's going to let you use his computer and show you around the database. I hope you can find what you're looking for." Shanga gave Cole a pat on the back and smirked. He promptly left the two of us alone. Cole had this cheerful smile about him that made him appear very friendly. His voice was a tad nasally and his accent was definitely Northern. Michigan maybe?
"Hey Tammy. Yeah, I'll let you use my computer. I had some data to dig through, but there are other people that can do that. I'm thinking of just having a chill day. Nothing crazy going on anyways. Work can be someone else's problem." I noticed he kind of rambled on and on and he got louder the longer he talked. "Well, Tammy, I guess we'll get started if you're ready to rock and roll." I stood up and finished the last few drops of my coffee. He was almost out of the break area before I could even set my coffee cup down.
After chasing down Cole for a few minutes we arrived at a cubicle that had a single computer and a filing cabinet. There were papers scattered across his desk and he frantically tried to clean up for me so I could use his station. Once he stacked up all the documents onto the filing cabinet, he typed in a password on his computer. As soon as he logged on there was an out of tune, cartoon-like music playing with an odd video showing a star-like cartoon on a blue background. It had poorly spelled advice on finding a good liminal space. "Whoops, let me close out of that." As soon as he closed that window, I saw another window with the same cartoon. This happened 3 more times until the last one just had a black screen with some red numbers on it. Like a code of sorts.
Though it was strange content, Cole didn't seem concerned about displaying his watching habits; in fact, it seemed like he was trying to nonchalantly show off the happy little star cartoon. Maybe it was something he made? What a goober. Once he had closed out of all of his windows, muttering and talking about nonsense the entire time, he finally moved to let me sit down at the computer. I don't think he took a single breath as he was talking the entire time. I had stopped listening a while ago. Nothing against him, but I can only listen to someone talk about nothing for so long.
The database was organized on a blue interface. There were tabs at the top for different types of information such as Entrances, Exits, Inventory, Anomalies, Colonies, Frontrooms Connections, and finally, Users. That should be a good place to start. I clicked on the 'users' tab and a list populated on the blue space below. There were first and last names, departments, and an identifying number per entry. I sorted by last name first. Samson, Selmer, Snyder, Solomon, Spears, Stewart, Syracuse. Hmmm... no Sunter. Well, I'm not sure he's ever even been here, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. 
Somehow Cole was still yapping. Something about pizza, eating a couple of slices versus eating a whole pizza. I think he said pizza up to 4 times in one single sentence. Despite the difficulty I was having, trying to concentrate, I kept on. Anomalies. Maybe there is something there? A list of titles populated in the blue space. Each item had a title, a summary, a date, and an attached document. This could be really useful. I carefully scrolled through the content, mostly one-time or rumored entrances and exits. Occasionally, specific found objects were interesting enough to have its own document. What's this? "Windows and other entities on Level 4 - 26DEC2021". Windows...
I remembered my own database. Level 188, similarly to level 4, was supposed to be void of entities, but the database implies the existence of windows on level 188. This is too interesting. I clicked on the document. It was based off an interview with someone named Ryan. Ryan claims that level 4 used to be different. It was a class 1 difficulty. Wait... he provided a document of the database: 
"Description
Level 4 appears to be an empty office building completely devoid of furniture. Certain rooms in this level have windows, but all should be considered traps and avoided at all costs.
Level 4 is mostly devoid of entities; Hounds and Dullers are the only ones that have been reported thus far. Because of this lack of beings, many Wanderers naturally congregate on Level 4. Additionally, scattered around the level are water coolers, water fountains, and vending machines containing Almond Water, which makes collection of the substance much easier. Level 4 is considered the best place to meet other Wanderers and gather supplies before moving on to later levels."
Hounds and Dullers? They clearly reference windows, but they weren't even considered entities in this database, just "traps." The article concludes that Ryan had just noclipped from one part of level 4 to another part of level 4 purely by accident. "Hey Cole. COLE!" Cole finally stopped talking for a split second. "Hey, you think I can print this out. Do you have a printer?"
"Oh yeah, the printer is around the corner. I'll grab it for you if you just 'control P' the thing." I could hear him say hi to every person he walked by as his voice faded around the corner. I could get a small moment of glorious peace and quiet. After a minute, he returns and hands me the document. I thanked him and logged off the computer. I told him I would find my own way back to Mr. Shanga. Cole responded with a "Catch you on the flip side!" 
The space was large, but most offices were organized the exact same way, so it wasn't too much of a hassle finding the boss's office again. "Well, did you survive Cole?" Shanga was chuckling to himself. I guess Cole was their form of hazing and initiation. Well, at least Shanga got a laugh in at my expense. 
"Yeah, I guess. He doesn't shut up ever, does he?" Shange burst out in a hardy laugh. I guess that answered my question. "So, the 'anomalies' section in your database. You had an article suggesting level 4 was somehow different than it is now?" 
"You're a clever lady, Tammy. The B.A.S. is the oldest colony on level 4. We've seen a lot of people come through here. Sometimes, people have claimed things that we know are to be completely untrue. Like level 4 has never had entities, but some claim there were. We've had mentions of colonies and outposts that have never existed to our knowledge. Sub areas, sub levels, secret exits. All sorts of inconsistencies. The thing is, they're rare. But the simple fact that they exist shows that there is more than meets the eye here in level 4, and possibly the backrooms as a whole."
"Have you ever had any MEG operators or researchers stationed here?" I shuffled my feet. I felt like I was near a breakthrough but somehow stuck at a dead end. 
"We've talked to MEG before, but we typically don't allow them to stay for long. You're an exception. MEG likes to... take over, so we keep them at a friendly distance. Now I know the S.R.C. always has one or two MEG reps with them. Their base isn't too far from here." Well, I guess one more stop couldn't hurt. "I'll have Zach load you up with some supplies for the road and I'll get Matt to print you out a map. Level 4 is an easy place to traverse as I'm sure you've already figured out."
"I greatly appreciate it. And I will remember the kindness you've and your group has shown me. If I'm ever back this way, I'll be sure to stop by. As Tammy of course, not as MEG." Shanga gave me a smile and left his office. I guess I won't be getting that shower just yet. 
== ==
Entry Twelve: Once a Mamma, Always a Mamma
== ==
I was grateful that the B.A.S. didn't just throw me to the wolves on my own. They offered me a hot meal fresh from the office microwave, a quick wash, and a rest for the night. Matt, Zach, Jershon, and Rashad hung out with me for breakfast and said their goodbyes. Shanga hooked me up with a backpack, 6 bottles of almond water, which was very generous, and 10 energy bars. Also, very generous. After sitting down and going over the map with Shanga and a feeble attempt to talking me out of my toolbox, which was a hard 'no' from me, I hit the trail towards the S.R.C.. 
Now the S.R.C. or Society of the Red Cross: Natural Sciences and Medicine, you can see why they just say SRC, anyways, they've always had a good relationship with M.E.G.. M.E.G., you see, generally has good intentions. Our goal is to provide aid and resources to anyone in the backrooms and we study every aspect of the backrooms to help guide people safely from place to place. The problem is, we function like a bureaucracy sometimes and we come off cold, like a government organization. The SRC on the other hand, are solely focused on humanitarian aid and medicine. Think of it like a full, backrooms hospital. Despite the M.E.G. not having an official outpost on level 4, SRC has always allowed for us to have a representative present. 
As Shanga predicted, travel through level 4 was very smooth and easy. I assumed it was late fall since the temperature was mild and the rain was light and calming. Believe it or not, level 4, despite being considered habitable, can get really cold. Thankfully, I didn't run into any bandits, but the distance between the two bases was only about 15 miles, which all things considered, was an easy and walkable distance for the backrooms. 
There was a banner spanning across the way into the S.R.C., making it very identifiable. There was a petite woman arguing with a man at the entrance. The man looked exhausted while the woman persisted with her argument. "I know they said white tail deer are the only native population in the area. But I swear, these were smaller and had spots. White tail deer don't have spots!"
"Sarah, I hunted for 30 years before coming here. I know what I'm talking about. They're not common but white tails can have spots." The man took off his hat and rubbed his head in frustration. 
Sarah sighed. "Ugh. I just don't know. I need to look this up." Sarah then noticed me approaching. "Oh hi! You must be from MEG?" How does everyone automatically know I'm from MEG? 
"Hi there, I'm Tammy. Your name is Sarah? My boss's name is Sarah. It's nice to meet you." The man nodded at me and looked at Sarah and beckoned for me to come in. 
Sarah led the way as I followed. "I'm sure you already know who we are. Do you need any medical assistance?" Straight to the point. Well, she seems very sweet at least. 
"No, I'm as healthy as you can be in the backrooms. As you already said, I am from the M.E.G., but I am not here on official business. I actually just came from the B.A.S. outpost. I'm chasing a theory, and I was wondering if I could pick the brain of your current MEG rep?" I guess I will be straight to the point too. 
"Oh yes! You mean Stacy. Right this way. I'll lead you to her. Right this way!" Sarah led me around the facility. Similar to the BAS, cubicles lined the spaces but many of them were larger, with curtains hung from the false ceiling, offering some privacy. For the cubicles with the curtains open, I could see makeshift beds crafted from office desks with padding and sheets on top for comfort. There were nurses and doctors scurrying about with clipboards and simple medical equipment. Everybody on level 4 seems to be busy bodies. Reminds me of Les. He never could sit still; he'd love this place. 
We arrived at an office near the back wall by the windows. I thought about the article that I had stowed in my toolbox; about how an alternate version of level 4 had window entities. It made me weary to think about it. Sarah opened the door an allowed me to pass inside. Sitting down in a chair behind a desk sporting a tan tube-monitored PC was a dark-skinned lady with straight black hair. Despite the obvious exhaustion in her eyes, she was honestly stunning. She looked up at Sarah and me and offered a half smile. 
"Stacy, this is Tammy, she also from MEG and she wanted to talk to you." Sarah paused and looked at me then back at Stacy. "I'll give you two some privacy." I thanked Sarah for the warm welcome and she exited the office, closing the door. 
Stacy let out a long, tired sigh. "Am I getting transferred again?" Well, she was a ray of sunshine. 
"No ma'am, I just had some questions regarding MEG in level 4. Do you have a moment?" Stacy rubbed her eyes, keeping them closed for an uncomfortable duration. I felt a wave of anxiety and unease. This is why people don't like MEG very much, this type of attitude right here. 
"Yeah, I've got a moment. What do you need?" Well, at least she's cooperative. I grabbed a chair that was also in the room and pulled it up next to her. I didn't care if she was bothered by my presence. I was here to get answers, formality be damned. 
"I'll get straight to the point. I've began to uncover a mystery that has unfolded in the backrooms. People, spaces, and entire levels no-clipping out of existence. That's not the crazy part though. People and levels disappear all the time, right? But what if I told you, they don't just disappear, they transfer dimensions. Alternate versions of the backrooms." Stacy didn't move a muscle. In fact, she seemed so unbothered by what I had to say, I wasn't even sure she was listening. I paused for a moment. The silence was long enough until Stacy graced me with a small amount of eye contact, allowing me to move on. "Anyways, one of my findings led me here to investigate a MEG operative named Henry Sunter. And since level 4, as far as I know, has never had a MEG base, I figured this would be the best place to find answers."
Stacy somehow sank even further into her chair. She started clacking away on her computer. "I don't know no Henry Shunter. I've only been here a month." Only a month and she's acting like she's been forced to work this computer for a century. Maybe she's sick? No, a medical facility would allow someone to work while being sick. Don't want to chance spreading infections unnecessarily. 
"Uh huh. Well, is there a user database or a MEG user history on that computer?" Stacy shrugged the way those young people would shrug when they're too lazy or too quiet to just say 'I don't know'. "Well, can I have a look?"
Stacy shoved herself to side on her rolling chair, allowing me some space behind her computer. "Be my guest. She's not the fastest computer, but she's functional." I thanked her and began digging in the Windows Explorer. The C drive did have a user's folder, but nothing on Henry Sunter. I clicked through the data and documents to see if anything existed relating to level 13, 130 or anything to do with an infinite apartment complex. Nothing. "Stacy, is this the only MEG computer around?" I looked over at her to see that her eyes were closed again. "Girl, are you okay? You look like the weight of the whole world was weighing you down."
That must have been the final straw. I could see Stacy's eyes watering up. She was trying to talk but her voice was too choked up to get any words out. I took my attention off the computer and leaned forward towards Stacy. "Oh honey, bless your heart. I didn't mean to upset you." My guilt compounded as she started actively sobbing and pulling her own hair. She was spiraling. What I said had triggered some sort of trauma event and she was in shock. My years of nursing took over my brain and I sprang into action.
My first step was to engage in physical contact. A steady and firm hand to her upper back, rubbing in a circular motion. "Stacy, I want you to breath with me okay? Big breath in. 1, 2, 3. Big breath out." Thankfully Stacy complied as we repeated the process. "Breath in. 1, 2, 3. Breath out. 1, 2, 3. Good girl." Once her breathing steadied out, I pulled out a clean bottle of almond water. In the backrooms, almond water seemed to have magical properties in calming one's mind. I'm sure there was a reasonable and scientific explanation of how it works, but it sure seemed like magic. 
Stacy graciously accepted the almond water and polished off about half of it in one go. She continued to breathe for a minute until she finally spoke up. She cleared her nose and throat with a sharp inhale. "I'm so sorry Tammy. I don't know what's wrong with me."
Poor thing. I've been in this state before. I definitely recognize mental exhaustion from stress. "I'm here if you want to talk. I won't judge, I'll just listen." I rubbed her back again in circles and she returned with a reassuring smile. "Tell me about it sweety."
"I don't know. I shouldn't feel this way. I have it better than most. Being in the backrooms alone is a death sentence for almost anybody, and here I am, in a safe level, behind a desk. I have food, water, a job. I should be grateful." Well, I could relate on that at least. "But there is just something about this place. Not here at the S.R.C., but just with MEG in general. I don't know. I just feel trapped. I don't have individuality. I don't have freedom. I'm trapped in bureaucracy and corporate bullshit. Sure, I could just leave, but then what? I lose the only stability I have? I lose my access to food, shelter, people. I would be dead in a manner of weeks if not sooner."
Stacy continued. "Before I no-clipped into the backrooms, I worked in a lab. I was an analyst. I collected samples and ran those samples through an instrument. A computer would print out data and I would review it and send it to quality." I had some experience in quality so that I could understand that aspect at least. "It was fine and all, but once again, my employment was my only lifeline. Rent was expensive, groceries were insane, healthcare was tied to me being employed. I was paycheck to paycheck and if I lost my job, it was over. I'd be on the streets in a month."
Stacy took a long breath. "Then I fell into level 0. I wandered there for five days. If I didn't no-clip with my big ass water bottle, I would have died for sure." I glanced over at a comically large water bottle sitting on her desk. I wondered if it was the same one. "The first thought I had to myself was: At least I'm responsible for my own life now. I no longer have to serve the company. It was comforting despite the obvious danger I was in. It wasn't too long after that where I found MEG in level 1. They have signs everywhere. As soon as I found them, I was so starved, so dehydrated, I just fell back into my routine. I interviewed just like I would have in the frontrooms, and I've been a corporate slave ever since."
That did sound tiring, but she was safe at least. "So, you feel like you're trapped?" I didn't want to give any advice. This was 'listen' time. 
"Yes. I just have this overwhelming desire to exist as my own person. MEG keeps moving me from place to place, and sure, I guess I don't always have the best attitude, but I'm just trying to survive down here. I had a pretty sweet gig down in negative eighteen, but they kicked me out about a month ago and sent me here through level 11. I just follow orders and hope they keep me employed. I don't know. I'm fine. I just need to grin it and bear it."
"Stacy, I hear you and I feel you. Just know that your feelings are valid. No one should ever have to endure what we do in the backrooms. No one. The stress of survival and the pressure of staying out of trouble is enough to do a number on anyone. You have every right to feel tired, stressed, even scared. It's okay sweety." I could see tears welling up in her eyes again. "We do important work, yes. And I know MEG expects a lot with us. Also, yes. But I will tell you a secret. Prioritize your own well-being. Even if that means taking some risks. Even if that means leaving stability and exchanging it for self-fulfillment and purpose. If your bosses get mad? Who cares? What's important is, are you growing as a person? Are you being someone that future and past you would be proud of?" Stacy gave me a contemplative smile. 
I unlatched my toolbox and pulled out my notebook. "This is the best toolbox I have ever seen in my whole half-a-century of a life." I smiled the warmest smile I could muster. I felt like I was talking to my kid after a hard day at school. This was just like that. Stacy needed a mamma right now, and that was going to be me. "This notebook here was found in a desolate place. The man that wrote it unfortunately passed away, but he left his whole legacy here. He found his purpose and I couldn't be prouder of his legacy. He's part of the reason why I am here. After this, I'm headed back to level 444. The big theater one? Can I ask a favor of you?"
Stacy cleared her nostrils again with a sharp inhale and nodded. "Stacy, I want you to follow your dreams. I want you to find purpose and be someone you are proud of. Not just a worker drone. When you can, come find me, take this notebook and write your own story. There's still plenty of space. Can you do that?"
Stacy smiled. "Yes ma'am. I think I will. Thank you. Thank you for listening. Thank you for not judging. A kindhearted soul is hard to find sometimes." She gave me a tight hug. I gave her the full motherly embrace. "I just realized, Miss Tammy, there is another computer that MEG used to use. The CPU is fried up, but I think we still have the old hard drive around here. I'll go find it real quick." Stacy, suddenly full of life, jumped up from her chair and disappeared back into the chaos of the SRC. 
== ==
Entry Thirteen: Level 13?
== ==
I leaned back into the chair that I had snatched from the side of the room. I was actually pretty tired given that I had just walked half a marathon in a day, going straight to this office. My mind and heart were heavy, thinking about Stacy. I thought about how quick I was to judge someone I didn't know. It made me think how many times I've passed quick judgment on someone that was going through something I had no idea about. Maybe in my rush to find a moral high ground, I slipped over the edge and became a judgmental jerk. I'll be sure to never make that mistake again. 
After about 20 minutes of waiting, Stacy returned holding a hard drive and a reader of some sorts. "I'm so sorry Tammy, that took forever. So, the computer is bricked, but I managed to grab the hard drive and this reader from IT. We should be able to load up the files and see if we can find your Henry guy." Well, that sounded like some good news. This really feels like my last shot at finding some answers. At least something that I can use as hard evidence to support my theory. 
We loaded up the hard drive and reader on the computer and waited a hot minute for the darn thing to read. I forgot for a moment on how old this computer also was. We opened the C drive and looked under data. I did a search function for Henry Sunter. "There he is! Oh my goodness, finally!" I could cry I was so overwhelmed with joy. I found you Henry. I finally found you. Stacy also seemed equally as hyped as I was, seeing as she was smiling ear to ear. 
I clicked on the profile. I searched and searched but I couldn't find any saved emails. Oh well, that's not an issue, I already have the email on the 130 article. I kept digging through the files and I found a folder titled Old_13. I clicked on it and sure enough, the original .jpg of the apartments popped up. Everything was in the folder, including the original level 13 article. "Stacy, you think I could get a USB drive or some way to save this digitally? I'm going to try and compile some data when I get back to 444." Stacy didn't waste any time and disappeared back into the chaos. 
I continued to dig through Henry's file when I saw a full copy of the database. "Well, this outta be good." Sure enough, it was so insanely different from what I was used to, my mouth was agape in shock. Level 0 was a class 1 with the possibility of entities and seeing other wanderers. I thought Level 0 was notorious for being an isolation zone like level 11. Level 11... That was also an isolation zone but the other email from... let me see here... Hugo R. mentioned a M.E.G. base on level 11. I skipped straight to the level 11 article and sure enough, it was very different. 
"Well, one thing I can say for sure: Our universe has better writers. These pages are kind of bare bones." Stacy turned the corner just as I began reading. 
"Find anything good?" Yes I had. I motioned for Stacy to come look over my shoulder. We both studied the alternate version of level 11. It was still a city like the one we knew, but it was absolutely filled, and I mean FILLED with colonies and outposts. "Tammy, this is the craziest thing I've ever read." She was serious, and I agreed. 
"Look at this. Entities, and lots of them. They're passive. Hah. Imagine petting a passive hound!" I chuckled. 
"I still don't think I could. Even if it was passive. They're way too creepy to look at." That we could agree on. I scanned through the entrances and exits section. Specifically at the level 13 exit. Sure enough: 
*In this level there is a gray and blue office building which serves as a gateway between this Level and Level 13.
This is perfect. Not only did I have an exit, but it's also well described to the color and make. I have a real shot and finding this level. Or what it used to be anyways. I saved all the contents from Henry's file onto the USB. I gave the computer back to Stacy and thanked her over and over. "Stacy, come find me on 444 when you get a chance. As soon as I'm able, I'll be making my leave through the current, real level 11." She agreed and said she would make it a priority. 
A couple of days passed at the S.R.C. where I got time to bond with Stacy before a thunderstorm started shaking the glass of the windows on the exterior walls. Sarah approached me with another bag of supplies. "Hey Tammy. Well, this is your chance. You said you wanted to go to level 11, right?"
"Yes Ma'am. I guess I just jump out of one of these windows?" No matter how many times I attempt an exit like this, it continues to be absolutely horrifying. I said my goodbyes and grabbed my pack and toolbox and slid off into the stormy void. I fell for a while. Long enough to have time to think about my horrible decision to jump. What an awful feeling, to be freefalling. Well, I guess I'll end up in either level 11 or level 37 judging by my research. Eventually, I suddenly saw concrete below me as I crashed into the ground. 
The landing was hard, but a lot softer than it had any right to be considering that I was sure that I hit terminal velocity ages ago. I stood up and dusted off my pants. It was quiet, very quiet. "Well, it's certainly not the bustling city Henry described now, was it?" I wonder if he was still in this universe or if he had no-clipped into the next one. How cruel is it? To think that not only are you doomed to wander this eternal prison for the remainder of your lives, but you also risk the chance of losing any friends you've made along the way by accidently falling into another eternal prison. 
Buildings towered above me in all directions. It was honestly ugly. There was no regard for aesthetic or beauty in the make of this level period. Well, this wasn't my first time in level 11. Despite not having a base in level 11, the M.E.G. uses it as a sort of informal version of The Hub, seeing as The Hub is harder to get in to. It's funny, most of our personnel abandoned the idea of even putting but a few exits on the article itself, rather we rely on our destination levels to get to where we need to go. For example, level 444 isn't listed as an exit, but finding a classical looking theater will take you there every time. 
Though I am looking for that theater, I want to find that building first. I had enough supplies to last me a good week, so time was on my side for once. The breeze created an unsettling ambience as I traversed the cracked and worn streets. I looked over at the traffic lights as it changed from red to green, then to yellow. There was no way to really travel in a linear fashion on this level as no matter what, you're going to get turned around. 
I poked my head into numerous apartment buildings, hoping one would have clues or something about the infinite apartments, though I needed to be careful. There were so many different exits from level 11, it would be very easy to accidently find myself into a mysterious backrooms level and never reach my destination. So far, I haven't found any theatres either. I decided to seek out an alleyway that can break up the breeze for me. It was easy enough to find a clean spot on the ground where I used my backpack as a pillow and my SRC-provided jacket as a blanket. Sleep wasn't great as I had gotten rather spoiled from the comfort of level 4, but it was enough to carry me through the next day. 
The next two days were rinse and repeat. I wish I could say more about my travels in level 11, but when it's nothing but repeating buildings and erratic streets, what do you even write about? The longer I did wander these streets, the more I could feel phantom eyes on me. I was familiar enough with the effects of the level to know that I wasn't in danger, but the feeling still persisted. Occasionally I would stumble upon brutalist, Russian styled architecture, seemingly out of pocket. Nevertheless, still no plant-life, entity-life, people, animals, anything. This was a really lonely place. I took a swig of almond water to stave off the paranoia. 
Day 4, I had finally found what I was looking for. I was honestly surprised to see it at all. It was tall, maybe about 30 floors. It was gray and blue, just like the description. It was built like an office building, but the insides were segmented into apartments, judging by the balconies facing the street. I could feel a lump form in my throat. I was a little on the scared side that I would end up in an isolated version of level 13, drifting in the void for eternity. "Well, here goes nothing."
I pushed open the double doors. In my mind I could see the vintage molding of the well-lit halls. I could hear the bustling of the colonies that called this level home. I could hear the panic of the ones that discovered that the exits no longer functioned. What stood before me was emptiness. The lights were dead, there was a film of dust covering every surface. I turned back to look at my door, half expecting it to be gone, but nothing had changed. I poked my head back outside, just to see the regular level 11 that I was used to seeing. I ventured deep into the halls of the building. It was eerily similar to the description of the level, but it could hardly be considered a level on its own. 
The building was cracked and worn with the yellow wallpaper and tattered carpet, but it wasn't infinite. Of course, the elevators didn't function, but looking up the stairwell, I could guestimate around 30 floors above me with a couple of basement floors below me. There was a back end to each hall and the rooms were empty. I sat on the table located back at the front foyer and stared at the door leading outside. I cried. I cried real tears. "How many? How many people were lost? How many people in the entire backrooms were lost?" It's almost as though something was generating this building and glitched, creating an infinite space. Then, somehow, it corrected itself, and by doing so, erased anyone and everything that was ever involved inside of it. 
I decided to sleep in that coffin of a building. Halfway hoping that I would no-clip me out of existence to meet those poor souls in their pointless graves. When I awoke the next day, I could feel the dried tears that were crusted on my eyes. I found what I needed to find. It was all real. I knew it. I took some photos of the building and left it behind. At least now I have evidence. Evidence that this place was even more cruel than I could even imagine. 
It would only take one more day before I found my grand theater entrance. No matter how many times I've traveled to level 444, the entrance always looked the same. It would be nice to finally be home. I wonder if they missed me? I wonder if Les made it back? I guess there is only one way to find out.
== ==
Entry Fourteen: Theatre Grandiose
== ==
Now the entrance to level 444 from level 11 always looks the same, but the lobby in which you enter always changes. Level 444, with the exception of the catwalks, is a fairly standard, Euclidian space. This means once you know a place, it doesn't change much. Despite me living in level 444 for years, I didn't have it memorized. The level is massive, not level 0 massive, but it's still something like over a thousand connecting theaters and associated rooms and hallways. It's one of the reasons why the M.E.G. rely on the Phantom Watchers for guidance as we don't tend to travel too far from our outpost.
Before me was the most beautiful, ornate lobby I had ever laid my eyes on. The walls were a soft fabric, deep red, with gold trim and a repeating fleur de lis pattern adorning the red fabric. There were huge golden chandeliers lighting the grand hall from the floral-patterned ceiling. Fancily dressed facelings were bustling about, creating a busy scene. I had to be careful as skin stealers will sometimes hide in these crowds. To my left was a concession stand which unfortunately was being tended by a faceling. "Well, I don't have any money... wait..."
I put my toolbox on the counter and dug around at the bottom. I had forgotten about the coins I grabbed on level 30. I never used them! I wasn't sure how much the money was worth, so I just grabbed it all and handed it to the faceling. "Some food please. Something hot if you got it." The faceling accepted the money and put it in his drawer. I guess no change. He went to a hot box and pulled out a large slice of pepperoni pizza. It looked magically fresh. 
My mouth was watering as he handed me the paper tray with the large, fresh slice. I haven't had pizza in probably a decade. My hands were shaking as I graciously took the slice. It was steaming hot. I carefully pulled out my last bottle of almond water and sat down at the side of the hall. There were no chairs, but I wasn't above sitting on the floor; I had just spent the last week sleeping on the street for crying out loud. I took that first bite into the greasy, cheesy slice. Let me tell you, chills ran down my spine from the sensation. Hot food was a commodity in the backrooms, and this was exceptional. 
I took my time eating and drinking, having my fill. I was sure to keep an eye on my peripheral, just in case something sinister was waiting, preying. I took time to let my legs rest and once I had my fill, I stepped into the bathroom to refill my bottles. Now regular water wasn't as nutritious as almond water, but it was just as crucial for survival. Some levels only had almond water running through the pipes; level 444 didn't. I refilled all of my bottles. Despite the extra weight, I wasn't going to be caught flat footed again without resources. After exiting the bathroom, I took a moment to admire the extraordinary beauty of this particular lobby. 
"Surely with a lobby this stunning, the theatre might just outdo the MEG base." Well, I wasn't familiar with the space, so I guess I should check it out. The entrance to the theatre was as grand as the lobby. It was a double sided, supported with Greek pillars. There was a curved ramp with golden statues of angels adorning the tops. The carpet was soft and clean. I could feel my heart race with anticipation. I turned the corner and to my absolute shock, what stood before me was the smallest, dingiest stage I had ever seen. 
It was a tiny room, maybe the size of a classroom. The floor was cement and there were about 25 to 30 metal folding chairs facing a barely usable platform, also made out of cement. The cement wasn't even polished. There were no rooms attached, so no dressing rooms, green rooms, or workshops. This was the craziest juxtaposition I had ever seen. I flicked one of the metal chairs with my finger in disbelief. The clang of the metal ringed in the small room as I stared at the plain walls. This is nuts. 
I left the theatre back out though the main entrance and took a right into one of the auxiliary hallways. I passed a maintenance room and a couple of dressing rooms before I exited the hallway into another lobby. The lobby and corresponding theatre were pretty standard, especially given the oddity of the previous space. I was looking for signs. Any sign that points to any sort of civilization. If I could find any person or colony, I could find M.E.G. base 4-CT. There were a few colonies and outposts on level 444, and though it is huge, it is possible to see every corner of the level if you're diligent enough. 
I continued snaking through the complex of theatres and auxiliary rooms, careful to avoid catwalks and maintenance halls. I wasn't equipped for a smiler encounter. Thankfully skin stealers were rare, but I was extra careful to be vigilant. I eventually settled on a modest stage with an attached green room for my next campsite. It had a mini fridge with some fresh oranges in it. Jackpot. I camped there for the night on a sofa near the wall. Greenrooms, which is the theatre term for a breakroom, was the one space in level 444 that was completely entity free. Even if you are being chased by an entity, a greenroom will stop it from entering.
Sleep came easy as the sofa was as soft as a cloud. It was the best surface I had slept on in almost two months. I must have slept for half a day. It took me at least an hour to fully wake up. Once I found my strength, I sat up, resting my back on the back of the sofa. There was a poster on the wall adjacent to me. It was colorful with hand drawn actors on a stage holding hands in a ceremonial bow. Wait a minute, hand drawn... It was from The Troupe! They're advertising! That must mean they're close! 
I suddenly found my energy and jumped up to the poster and flipped it around. There was a map! Oh yes! Of course, I didn't want to take the poster in case anyone else needed it, so I snapped a picture of it using my tablet and put the poster back where I found it. It looked to be no more than 10 theatres away from here, perfect! Now I wasn't sure how far their base was from the MEG base, but I was sure they knew. They would send reps all the time to invite us out to one of their shows. I had been a few times, but not enough for me to memorize the way. It seems like it was about a day of travel. 
Unfortunately for me, the first leg of travel would require me to travel through 2 catwalks. The first catwalk had two layers and I had to walk across the bottom. I looked up to the second catwalk and there were glowing eyes looking straight down at me. Shoot, a smiler. Okay, as long as I don't agitate it, I should be fine. I slowly and carefully made my way across the catwalk, never breaking eye contact. The smiler continued to stare at me from above and slowly followed along. I held my breath as I reached for the door. I had no idea if these things could use ladders, but I was nervous nonetheless. 
I slowly opened the door. Before me was a long, dark and foggy street. There were lamps illuminating the pavement against the shadow of a large overpass. Nope! I closed the door and looked back up towards the smiler. I know they always smile, but I swear this one was mocking me. I opened the door again to see a thick jungle. A strong breeze blew into my face filling my nostrils with a sweet aroma of mist and nature, giving me a calming sensation and enticing me inside. Absolutely not. Gosh, I hate catwalks. I closed the door and opened it again to finally reveal another catwalk. "Finally." I looked at the smiler again before proceeding through. "See yah chuckles."
The remainder of the travel was uneventful. I eventually arrived at the entrance to the theatre that corresponded with my map. Inside was a larger theatre with seating that could probably hold a thousand or more people in the many rows of seats. On the stage were a group of ornately dressed individuals rehearsing for a musical involving a large Venus flytrap prop. A faceling tapped me on the shoulder and passed me by. I gave it a polite wave, knowing that it was probably busy doing some sort of important faceling work. 
Another man, also in his fifties approached me will a goofy grin. "What's goin' on?" Another southerner, nice. He had short, grey hair and held a cherry red, electric guitar in his hands. "You look like one of them MEG folks. Now I was told to tell yew. Or one of you MEG folks to come see our production of Little Shop of Horrors." Well, he seemed kind enough, but how did he know I was from MEG? How does EVERYONE know I'm from MEG?
"Oh uh, yeah. But I'm not exactly sure how to get back, can you help me out?" He stared at me for a second to process what I had just said. He was probably making sure I wasn't a skin stealer or something.
"Well, alright. You just wait right here, and I'll kindly tell the director that I'll be making my way over back to your base. What's your name? My name is Chris" He smiled, so I guess he figured I wasn't a threat. 
"The name's Tammy. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you." Chris made his way towards the stage and placed his guitar in the pit with another guitar player with long, brown hair, glasses and a mustache. He has a chat with the director and the director handed him a stack of flyers. He disappeared around the corner and came back wearing a backpack. I guess he's my escort. 
"Well, miss Tammy, I reckon we'd better get on. I kindly don't much care for monsters and whatnot, so I'd prefer to travel quick if that's alright." Perfect. I was itching to get home, and I've done enough sightseeing to last me a lifetime. 
"Well, Mr. Chris, I reckon we'd better get moving then."
== ==
Entry Fifteen: To Whom it May Concern
== ==
Chris was a southern gentleman from Georgia. He was a chatterbox that loved music, and he had been playing guitar since he was young. Chris had no-clipped into the backrooms from a bar while playing at a gig in Kentucky. He said he was grateful that he fell in with his guitar still in one piece, but he barely survived level 191 before thankfully finding himself in a dressing room in level 444. I wasn't able to get too many words in during our travels, but we vibed well enough. 
It was about a 6-hour trek before we arrived at the familiar entrance to MEG base 4-CT. Wow, there it was. It was hard not to get emotional. I could feel my nose running alongside the tears in my eyes. I was home. I had told Chris about my adventure some, so he was just happy to see me finally get home. The man guarding the entrance saw me and immediately smiled. I knew him. His name was Woodrow. He was an abnormally tall man with a kind smile. "Tammy! Oh my God!" He gave me a warm embrace as I let the tears freely flow. "I assumed the worse. I'm so glad you're back."
Woodrow led us into the main theatre and back towards the workshop. As I walked through the aisle, I got looks from my other coworkers with their mouths dropped open. We climbed the stairs onto the stage and turned the corner. There he was. Les, jamming out a blues melody on a harmonica. Chris, being a music lover interrupted Les's playing. "I like this guy. You think he'd want to join up with The Troupe?"
"Tammy!? No way! You're... you're alive!? You made it! Oh my god you made it!" I had never seen Les cry before, but he had real tears falling down his face. He jumped up from his stool, nearly tripping over what looked to be a DIY mechanical arm and backpack and ran over to me for a long, brotherly hug. "I never thought I'd see you again. God, how did you survive? Where did you go?"
"It's a long story my good friend. We have a lot to talk about. Man, it's good to see you." After many reunions with the other MEG staff and a warm debrief from our manager Sarah, I finally got to rest and unwind, safe from any danger or worry. Les and I got to talk for hours about our adventures. Turns out, Les had quite the adventure himself and built that mech arm to help him get back. After a day or so of rest, I finally managed to get behind my computer to compile my notes. 
right|215x215px|link=
To:MEG_R&D@meg.bri
From:Tammy_Mays@meg.bri
Attachments: [Level_13_Old.pdf]; [Level_11_Old.pdf]; [Level_130.pdf]; [Entity_2.pdf]; [Entity_47.pdf]; [TAW_Scan.pdf]
== ==
To Whom it May Concern,
My name is Tammy, and I recently came into possession of a notebook found on level 375. As part of the media/found footage program, I researched and studied the contents of the journal, and I found several inconsistencies against our database. Now, given the detail and training given to our personnel on recording and verifying the contents of our M.E.G. database, I have no reason to doubt the quality of the information present in our database. These firsthand accounts, recorded in this journal, gave me reason to deep dive into our own database and I began to gather evidence. 
The first inconsistency was level 188. 188 is known for being dark, dusty and void of entities. The journal clearly described 188 but with lights and window entities. I reread our 188 article and again verified the absence of both working lights and entities. Just to be thorough, I looked up the window entity article and on the title page itself, referenced level 188 as being the most notable location for these entities. 
The author of the journal would later talk about smilers and some sort of DeJa'Vu which sparked a memory I had about reading the Mushroom Maw article. There is a footnote explaining the disappearance of M.E.G. researcher and the disappearance of an entire level. The footnote mentioned this anomaly to be specifically related to level 130. Level 130 is an article describing the interaction between two wanderers as they venture into an apartment complex that reminded one of the wanderers of the old level 13.
Now I was unsure what the old level 13 was as I was sure it had always been a garden level, not an apartment complex. The 130 article describes and email between a Henry Sunter and an overseer named Andrew. Henry described a M.E.G. base on level 11, which is impossible as level 11 is void of life and is an isolation level. With this evidence gathered, I declared dedication to the research of these anomalies. 
Due to an unfortunate mishap involving the Grandiose Phantom and a skin walker here on level 444, I ended up on an adventure through the backrooms which I recorded in the same journal I tasked myself to research. My adventures are recorded in that journal which is attached above. I eventually ended up with a group that lead me to level 4 colony known as "Society of the Red Cross: Natural Sciences and Medicine" or S.R.C. where I met with one of our representatives stationed there. This operative provided me with an old hard drive which contained files from Henry Sunter.
This file contained information about an old database that was completely different from our own. I attached the old level 11 and 13 articles from that database. These articles are so completely different from our own that they are either part of an elaborate prank, or they are from a different universe entirely. Before returning to my station in level 444, I traveled through level 11 and found what I believed to be the former entrance to the alternate level 13, a gray and blue office building, fashioned into apartments. The inside of this building was structured exactly the same way as the article described except it wasn't a separate level, and it wasn't infinite as the article suggested. 
I propose the following hypothesis: Given the nature of the backrooms and the nature of no-clipping. I propose that there are multiple iterations of the backrooms, and it is entirely possible to no-clip or transport to alternate backrooms universes. I think it is possible, given the nature of the infinite apartments, i.e. the old level 13, that entire spaces and levels can disappear in a moment's notice and erase itself from our reality, only leaving vague clues hidden throughout our memories and records. 
Based on the evidence I've gathered, and the experiences I've recorded, I am requesting a formal investigation on this Backrooms Multiverse Theory, as I think it will help future wanderers that may find themselves in different universes at any given time. It's best to be prepared. Thank you for your time in reading this message. 
Sincerely,
Tammy
There, that ought to do it. For me, though, like I said earlier, I think I've had enough adventures for a lifetime. I think I will store this journal for the next Accidental or Intentional Wanderer that comes along. I hope that whoever takes this calling, will be able to continue this work. There's enough space. I think I'll even give them this toolbox too. It's such a high-quality toolbox after all. It seems only right that they should stick together. I will stay here in level 444, diving into data and media. It's been an adventure, and I treasure the friends I made, and the lessons I learned along the way. Farewell. 
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Main Author: TheDadams author of The Accidental Wanderer.
Category:Tales
Category:The Wanderers Toolbox