The Truth: Part 1

It’s been over a year since I wrote my last short story. My heart just hasn’t been in it. I’m not sure what to write. I guess I’ll start by explaining what and why I’m writing. I’m an aspiring fiction author, but I’ve struggled with writing for a long time. Mostly because I’ve been depressed for years. I feel like I have a ton of good ideas, but it hurts to think. I love my imagination, but it’s an increasingly painful place these days. It’s so bad that I’ve been too afraid to try to do anything creative. I’ve mostly been trying to avoid my thoughts because I don’t want to think about how my life got this way. But I can’t stand just sitting around getting more depressed. I need to do something to at least try to fix my life. 
Recently, I decided to write this diary just to get myself writing something again. Maybe if I just try to write whatever comes to mind, it could turn into a story. As I said, my thoughts have been painful and scary lately, but horror is one of my favorite genres. Maybe I could get inspired to write something horrific. And I’m struggling to write even this. I’m just so indecisive about every word. I hate how very long it takes me to wake up sometimes. Over two days, I only wrote a little over a paragraph. This is the only practice that will get me back into writing anything again. But it’s okay if I just keep at this. I’m sure I can get used to it again. It’s just so annoying how groggy and lethargic I can feel sometimes. I’ll try writing while watching something instead of listening to music for a bit. The music can sometimes feel like noise if I’m not in the right mood and I’m forcing myself to write. That was a dumb idea, but watching something is too distracting. I’ll just listen to fantasy music.
I haven’t written anything in so long because I was pretty depressed after getting kicked out of the friend group I had for over two years. It’s a long story that I don’t want to overthink about right now. I’ll just say that it sent me back into my old ways of being a depressed, lethargic shut-in who hardly gets any exercise or sun. I tried therapy, and I gave up on that. It’s another long story I might get into later. It’s well after midnight, and I’m pretty tired, so I guess I’ll stop here. I know I haven’t written much yet, but I started pretty late. Besides, I want to try to improve my sleeping habits. I would like to wake up before noon instead of well after for once. It’s so hard to get good sleep when you’re depressed. 
My parents and aunts finally stopped fighting over the inheritance from my grandparents and settled on who gets what recently. It took years for everything to be settled in court finally. According to my parents, my aunt did some stuff to give herself control over my grandparents’ finances shortly before they died. I don’t know, and I don’t know if I care. I loved my grandparents, but I don’t like sticking my nose in or thinking about my family’s drama. It’s nice to have some extra money, my grandfather left me a few things. They just arrived in the mail today. Most of it is computer stuff. I got my love of tech from my grandpa. He taught me how to use them when I was really little. I remember visiting my grandparents and playing Nickelodeon and Cartoonnetwork games on his computer as a kid. It was a while before I had a computer at home. And even longer before we had internet faster than dial-up. 
As nice as the computer stuff is, it’s not the most exciting thing my grandfather left me. I also got this old projector. It doesn’t have any branding or labels on it, but it looks really nice and in good condition. Maybe my grandpa made it himself. His tech interests and knowledge were always far beyond mine. I was only ever interested in PCs, and He liked to fix anything and everything. Still, I wonder why he left me a projector. I was never really interested in this kind of stuff. One summer, my friends and I wanted to make a movie, and that’s maybe why. But I was always way more interested in writing and making video games. Because of that, my tech interests and knowledge have always been mainly focused on the software side. 
This projector looks like it's from another era. The design is elegant yet mysterious, with intricate engravings along its metal casing that seem to tell their own story. I can't shake the feeling that there's something more to this projector, something beyond its physical appearance. Perhaps there's a reason my grandfather left it specifically to me, a reason that goes beyond nostalgia or a passing interest in filmmaking. I don’t know why I didn’t notice before, but it’s bizarrely cold, almost like dry ice. I’m going to try it out in my large walk-in closet. The walls in there are bright white and plenty large. Plus, it’s more than dark enough for the projections to show up clearly. Also, the bulb outlet has a power socket. 
I’m continuing this on my phone in my closet. I locked my bedroom door so my parents don’t bother me while I watch this. I'm shocked this old projector still works perfectly; it emits an eerie, whirring hum as it powers on. Luckily, it came with a large film reel already loaded. I’m not surprised this thing is so slow. I guess this projector hasn’t been tested in a while because it’s kicking up a lot of dust. The hum of the projector is growing a little louder, filling this small space with a strange, low mechanical rhythm. The light from the projector is flickering to life on the wall in front of me, revealing a black-and-white scene reminiscent of early silent films. The image is blurry, grainy, foggy, and distorted as if it's been warped by time itself.
It's hard to discern what exactly is being shown. Shapes and shadows dance across the surface, forming abstract patterns that seem to shift and morph with each passing moment. The scene is slowly beginning to coalesce into a semblance of coherence, like memories emerging from a fog. The images are muted and washed out as if drained of life. The setting appears to be abandoned, and It’s an empty, featureless dessert. A barren expanse is stretching out before me, devoid of any signs of habitation or vegetation. The sky above is a dull, featureless gray, casting a pall of gloom over the scene. Despite the lack of any discernible movement, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. It's as if unseen eyes are peering out from the darkness, observing my every move with a sense of malevolent curiosity.
As I continue to watch, the scene on the wall begins to undulate subtly, like the surface of a still pond disturbed by a single drop. The barren desert landscape starts to darken at the edges, the shadows deepening and growing as if the night is rushing in at an unnatural pace. The horizon line is beginning to appear cracked and uneven and separate the barren plains from a sky choked with churning, unnatural fog. An inky blackness is bleeding down from the clouds, slowly but steadily consuming the empty landscape. The whole scene is flooding with a strange, viscous substance. It's as if the very essence of the film is seeping through the projector, defying the laws of reality. The thick, murky liquid is creeping slowly across the landscape, swallowing everything in its path. It moves with an eerie deliberateness, oozing into every crevice and corner, consuming the world before my eyes.
The viscous darkness now pools in the center of the barren vista, swirling and churning as if alive. From this inky well, a grotesque and misshapen head is slowly rising from the ground. Its features are vague and indistinct, like a half-remembered nightmare. It seems impossibly large, and its silhouette dwarfs the horizon. Hollow eyes stare out of it into the abyss, devoid of any emotion or life. It has a single, elongated nostril that hangs flaccid. The head makes no sound as its gaping maw yawns open, revealing row upon row of jagged teeth. All the liquid is somehow draining out of its mouth and drying most of the land.
A shape is emerging from the depths of the churning, black ocean, or perhaps it's a boat - the distinction is blurred in the murky depths of the film. It's a silhouette shrouded in darkness, and its contours are barely discernible against the inky blackness of the water. It’s slowly inching its way towards the shore. As it draws closer, details start to emerge from the gloom. A lone, skeletal rowboat bobs precariously in the churning waves. Suddenly, a long, spindly arm reaches out from the water, grasping the edge of the boat. The figure is pulling itself up onto the rocking ship, and each movement is deliberate and foreboding.
It seems impossibly tall and thin, its limbs extremely long and twisted, like the branches of a gnarled tree reaching out to ensnare unwitting prey. Its head hangs at an unnatural angle. And its eyes... if they can be called eyes, gleam with an otherworldly light. They’re piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. The water around the ship is starting to bubble and froth. The figure is crying out a mournful sound that cuts through the rhythmic groan of the projector like a knife. It’s somehow human and inhuman at the same time. For all my growing sense of unease, I’m unable to tear my gaze away from the unfolding spectacle. It’s now standing on the boat, and It seems to be searching for something. Its pale, hollow orbs are scanning the barren horizon. It lets out another mournful cry, this one tinged with desperation.
The camera just panned over to the forest. A monstrous, undulating creature is emerging from the depths of the forest. The grainy film struggles to capture its details. However, I can just barely make out its immense, barnacle-encrusted limbs and a hide that ripples like a vast sea. It's a creature so large it defies comprehension, dwarfing the mountains in the distance and casting an oppressive shadow that seems to stretch for miles.  It moves with an unnatural grace, and its form is shifting and undulating like a specter summoned from the darkest depths of the human psyche. Its body is a patchwork of mismatched limbs and grotesque appendages, each one moving in perfect synchrony with the others. As it draws nearer, I can make out the details of its… well, what I guess is its face. Its eyes are empty voids, sucking in the light around them like black holes in the fabric of reality. Its mouth stretches impossibly wide, revealing row upon row of jagged teeth that glint malevolently in the dim light.
The camera shifted focus again, and it settled on the most disturbing sight yet. In the center stands a colossal tree, unlike anything on Earth. It stretches endlessly upwards, disappearing into the swirling gray above. The sheer size of it is overwhelming, dwarfing the mountains on the horizon and casting a sickly green pall over the landscape. But it's not just the size that’s chilling. The tree's roots are sprawling like the tentacles of some ancient leviathan. Its trunk is impossibly bulbous, its surface mottled and wrinkled like ancient, sunbaked flesh. The bark is gnarled and weeping sap that glows faintly, pulsating with a rhythm that mimics a heartbeat. Its branches are thick and sinuous and writhe and twist like enormous, petrified serpents. They seem to pulse with a slow, rhythmic life, their surfaces glistening with a sickly luminescence that seems to emanate from within the bark itself. Nestled amongst the branches, colossal, fleshy fruit dangle precariously, their surfaces pulsating with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic glow. They resemble giant, misshapen eyes, staring down at the desolate plain below with a cold, unblinking gaze.
But the most unsettling aspect is the single, immense eye embedded deep within the trunk itself. It's a pulsating orb of raw, chaotic energy, the iris a swirling vortex of shifting colors. It stares out from the tree with a chilling intelligence. I can't help but feel it looking directly at me, judging, scrutinizing. This tree, this grotesque parody of nature, feels ancient beyond imagining, powerful beyond comprehension. It is a monument to some dark, unknown force, and I have a feeling I've stumbled upon something I was never meant to see. This tree, this entity, is the epicenter of the film's universe, a god-like presence that exudes an aura of primordial power. It's as if the tree has always been there, watching, waiting, a silent observer to the passage of eons. The figure from the boat, now on land, approaches the tree with a slow, reverent gait. Its form is dwarfed by the sheer size of the tree, yet there is a connection, an unspoken understanding between them. The figure reaches out a hand, and the tree responds, a single massive limb lowering to touch the figure's outstretched fingers.
The landscape is starting to warp and twist, contorting into bizarre and unnatural shapes. The once primarily empty expanse is now filled with strange, otherworldly structures. Now, I see an overgrown garden with gnarled trees reaching out like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky. They’re casting twisted shadows across the ground. Strange, barely discernible shapes are popping in and out of view. Grotesque humanoid forms with unsettling proportions are writhing and wriggling across the screen. Their movements are jagged and erratic, as if they are not entirely tethered to the laws of physics. Their faces are shrouded and obscured by masks of blank, dark expression. I can make out the silhouette of a looming structure, its jagged spires piercing the heavens. As the minutes pass, the imagery is becoming increasingly surreal and disorienting. Shapes morph and twist in impossible ways, defying logic and reason. In spite of the unsettling nature of the footage, there is a certain monotony to it. The abstract patterns have become hypnotic, and It’s starting to make my eyelids feel heavy. Between that and the rhythmic whirring of the projector's mechanics, I just might fall asleep in my chair right here.
What happened? Where am I? I don’t feel like I was asleep for very long. This doesn’t look anything like my closet. I just woke up, and I’m in a little white room. There’s nothing in here except me, a small desk, a chair, a notebook, and a pen. The scariest thing is there is no door or window. I don’t know how I ended up here or why. But I’m guessing whoever put me in here wants me to write my thoughts in this notebook. Well, I'm less guessing and more hoping that writing this will make them happy and let me out. I don’t know what else I can do right now, but I can’t think of what to write, and I’m still exhausted. And the fact that everything in this room is the same shade of white is strangely maddening. Especially with the only light source here being one overbearing, almost blinding bright white fluorescent light. I think I’ll just try to take a nap. Maybe this is just a nightmare, and I’ll wake up in my room.
Fuck, damn it, I’m still stuck in here. And I think that the light is getting worse. It’s almost impossible to see anything. It’s almost like the light is washing away all the shadows and contrasting light. It’s very disorienting. It’s like being lost in a blank, white, empty void. I tried breaking through the walls. I even tried hitting them with the chair. But it didn’t do any good, and I just wore myself out. I have to find some way out. That was weird. I had to rewrite that last sentence because I accidentally wrote it on the desk. At least, I think I did. Wait, where’s the desk? I can’t tell where the desk is.
I keep trying to feel around for it in the all-consuming light. But it’s almost like it just keeps shifting virtually as though it was liquid. Yet it feels rock solid and bone dry. It’s a very confusing feeling I’ve never experienced before. I’ve had trouble feeling around for things in the dark before. But nothing has ever run from me like this. Damn, this is frustrating. What the hell? I slammed my fists down on the desk, and for a moment, I could tell where it was. However, as soon as I moved my hands, it shifted again. I can hardly believe it, but I think concentration makes it stay. Ok, this has to be a dream because it’s working. I don’t know if I’m awake, I feel very awake, but I don’t care. I just want out. I have an idea. Wow, that worked. I drew a circle on the wall and forced my hand through. So I guess if I draw a door, maybe I can use it to escape. It’s worth a shot.
It was all I could do to scratch a crude rectangle across the wall, but I managed to make it through. I thought, but where am I now? I can’t see anything; it's just pure bright white everywhere. Why can’t I stand up? Am I falling? I think I am. How did it take me so long to notice that I was falling? It’s like I wasn’t falling before I saw, or guessed it? But I didn't even feel like I was floating. I didn’t feel like anything like I was barely even existing. I’ve been falling for a while. What’s going to happen? Am I stuck falling forever, or am I going to land? I don’t know which I’m more afraid of. I’ve had way more than my fair share of suicidal thoughts, and I’ve even attempted it a couple of times. But I’m a coward who’s terrified of death. I don’t want my life to end now, especially not like this. And not here all alone. I'm so sorry…
What? Am I ok? Am I alive? How did... Where am I? The floor is so soft and cold. It's almost like it's not even there. But I feel like I'm on solid ground. That is solid enough, anyway. This room is just as blindingly white as the last one. Well, at least this one is a lot bigger and has several doors. I might find an exit around here. This place is like an office building, except it's far more cold, sterile, and pure white. Every step I take here seems to be getting me more lost. How long have I been searching for an exit? This place is almost like an empty dream. I tried calling out for help, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I yell, I can’t hear myself. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me. I tried clapping, kicking the wall, and stomping the ground. But I heard nothing but a cold void of silence. This place is like a box that’s hostile to any sign of life. It’s oppressively sterile and trim as much as it is hopelessly endless. I don’t even have any breath in here…
How long have I been trapped here, searching for an exit in this stark white maze? I can’t remember if I checked three hundred rooms or just three. I think this place is doing something to my brain. I can feel my mind slowly fading and getting fuzzy. I’m starting to struggle to think and concentrate. What’s going on? Where am I? This place seems to be making me numb inside and out. I can feel my mind draining. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I think? Why is my mind so blank now? Where was I? I lost my train of thought. I need to concentrate. I just need to find the exit…
Every wasted moment that passes without anything accomplished burns. Time just seems to pass faster and faster and pull me closer and closer to death. The blank emptiness is strangling and suffocating my mind more and more. I’m lost in a self-perpetuating cycle because the longer I’m trapped, the more I can feel myself being crippled by this place. And the weaker I get, the faster this place breaks me. I’m just getting so tired now I don’t know how much longer I can push on or even move. And the scariest part is everything I don't know. I don't know why I'm here or how I get out. I don't know what will happen when this place drains me, and I inevitably collapse…
As tired as I am and as soft as the floor is, I wish I could just take a nap. But I can't, and I need to leave as soon as possible. I'm too afraid of what could happen if I stop moving. So, no matter how much every waking moment burns, I need to keep moving. I don’t think I’d be capable of sleeping anyway. My mind isn’t able to relax enough for that, and it's not even close. I just need to give up on the thought of peace or relaxation until I get the fuck out of here. I just need to concentrate on finding the exit. If I just hurry up and move faster, I can get out of here before it’s too late. I can feel my body slowly starting to freeze up. I have to fight against my mind and body a little more with every step. The more I fight, the more it hurts, but I can’t give up. I need to get out...
I just need to focus hard, harder than I ever have. If I just push on with every bit of strength I have left, I know I can get out of here. It really hurts, but I have to, and I just need to use the pain to drive me, to fuel the fire in my belly. Yes, that’s it. I can feel myself moving faster and more easily. The harder I focus, the less I hurt. It’s like ice is melting off me. I think I see a door in the distance that doesn’t look like every other damn door in here. It doesn't look like an exit, and it barely looks any different. But it must be the exit, and it’s the only door that doesn’t seem exactly like the rest. I can’t think why else it would seem as unique as it does.
Damn it, What’s wrong with that door? What’s wrong with me? I can hardly describe it. I want to open it, and I have to open it. It’s my only hope of escaping this nightmare. Yet, something is holding me back. I don’t know why, but I’m terrified of this door. The closer I get, the more I freeze up from fear and struggle to even think about opening it.  When I get close enough almost to touch the handle, I freeze like a statue. No, I’m so close, I can’t be stuck here like this now… 
I have no idea how long I’ve been just standing here staring at that door, but I know I need to get out of here now. I also know that if anything is going to help me escape, it’s probably that door. I mean, it’s at least different. It’s the only thing that is. I just need to relax and open that door. I know what I have to do, and I know I need to do it now! Yet I can’t do it, no matter how simple it is. I just can’t make my body do it. I don’t even have a clue why I’m afraid. I have a few vague and unlikely guesses. It could be fear of the unknown or something like that, but that has never been the case for me. I’ve always loved to explore. Well, at least I was. I have been a hermit for the past handful of years. But that’s not due to fear. Besides, I have no idea why or how I could have become afraid of the unknown or anything like that. At least, I am not this afraid or even close to it. 
Maybe part of me somehow knows what’s on the other side of that door. But I don’t see how that could be possible. I’m just thinking about and dwelling on this too much. It’s a simple task, and I just need to rip it off like a bandaid. That’s my problem. I think about stuff like this too much. I just have to calm the fuck down, and it. I just need to stop being such a god damn coward. But why am I such a loser coward? No, no, no, that’s just it. I need to stop getting stuck in an endless loop of thinking about it. I just need to charge at the door and do it before I even realize what’s happening. This is ridiculous and dumb, and I’m just going to do it already. All this thinking is going to trap me here forever. Ok, now or never, here it goes…
Well, I made it through, thank fuck that worked. I had to almost black out and just mindlessly ram myself through, but I did it. But I’m not so sure this is the way out anymore. There’s no way in hell I’m going back, though. This place is pretty different from the rest of this labyrinth. I guess that’s a good thing. I don’t know, and I don’t feel so much like I’m being drained or like I’m dying. But this place is a lot more foreboding, and It's darker, greyer, and duller. I’m sure why this place feels so much more unsettling to me than the previous section. I’ve always loved the dark. It usually makes me feel calm and confident. Wait, what’s that in the corner? 
It’s just a shadow, but it almost looks like it has a thin, spindly hand coming out of it. It is pretty hard to see here; it’s probably just a trick of the light or something. I guess I’ll just try to ignore it and keep looking for the exit. The more I explore this place, the more uneasy I feel. I feel like this place is messing with my head, but not as harshly as the white section, at least not yet. I’m starting to feel like I’m being hunted. Almost everywhere I look, there are strange shadows. I know I need to look around everywhere and behind every door if I want to find the exit, but it’s so difficult here. Well, I just can’t think of anything better, to be honest. But thinking about checking what’s behind any of these doors makes me nervous. I’m struggling to keep myself from running back to the first area despite how miserable that was.
At least I don’t feel my mind fading or my body aching anymore. Now I can think. It’s just somewhat difficult to think. It’s weird because it doesn’t feel like a headache. Thinking just makes me feel tired and a bit disoriented. Like getting the wind knocked out of me. Is something here with me? I feel like every corner and intersection of this place is watching me. I should just stay focused on getting out of here fast. If there is something in here, escaping is probably the only thing I can do about it, so I had better get to it. So this is it, the first door…
Am I outside? I think I made it out. I must have. I’m at the local park. I don’t know what happened to the door I came out of, but I don’t care. I’m just happy to be out of there finally. I’ve never felt this happy, not since I was a kid anyway. After all that, I need to sit and relax for just a moment. That bench looks good. I remember playing with other kids in this park when I was tiny, about three or probably 4. Man, those were some of the happiest memories I’ve ever made. It’s such a lovely night, and the full moon is beautiful. I forgot how nice this park is, but it doesn't seem to have changed a bit since I was a kid. My eyes are getting so heavy, and I better get going soon before I fall asleep.
What happened? I must have nodded off, and I guess I was even more tired than I realized. Wait!?! Did the bench grow while I was asleep!?! FUCK! That wasn’t the exit, was it? I’m still stuck in that hell, aren’t I? Assuming I’m right, how the fuck do I get out of this nightmare? What’s that? Is this a frisbee? It looks exactly like one of the frisbees my friends and I would throw around when we were little. It has the same cheap, plasticy, almost rubbery look and the same bright, vibrant, warm, candy-like color. “Hey, buddy! Wanna play some frisbee?"  It's been a really long time, but I remember that voice. Yep, that's Caleb and the rest of my friends from when I was a toddler, just as I remember them smiling brightly with pure joy in their eyes. I can hardly believe it. Is this some kind of dream?
We had so much fun, and we raced all over the place on our tricycles. We played a lot of games like catch, tag, hide and seek. We even saw and collected fireflies in jars. We had the time of our lives for what felt like several hours, but it must have been well over a day because I remember two nights passing. I know I should be trying to find my way home, but I don’t want to think about that right now. Sophie just told me about a cool place my friends want to explore with me. It sounds so cool, and it’s like some sort of empty factory with a bunch of bizarre machines. 
I can’t resist the offer. It's been so long since I’ve been on an adventure like that, especially with friends. It looks like they’re ready, and it's time to get going.  My life has felt so empty and frozen for so long, and I need this. My friends and I did a lot of exploring, kind of like this when I was a kid. I’m excited and curious to find out why there’s a strange factory in the forest just beyond the park. 
On the way, my friends and I couldn’t help but get distracted playing around and exploring in the forest. We swung on and played on the trees like a jungle gym for hours. We almost forgot about the factory. It really felt like being a little kid again. The forest was filled with my friends' echoing laughter and playful banter. It was as if we were frozen in time, reliving those cherished childhood memories. The sun cast a warm, golden hue through the leaves, and the chirping of birds provided the soundtrack to our adventure.
As we ventured deeper into the woods, I couldn't help but notice how the trees seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, their branches forming a dense canopy above us. The air was thick with the scent of earth and leaves, and the ground was covered in a soft carpet of moss that cushioned our every step. Caleb, the ringleader of our little group, led the way with his boundless energy and infectious enthusiasm. He was always the one with the wildest ideas and the biggest dreams, and it seemed like nothing had changed. He was the first to spot the strange factory in the distance.
It’s weird, and I thought this place was a manifestation of my memories from when I was a kid. But I don’t remember exploring a forest when I was this young or with this group of friends. It was so long ago that I struggle a bit to remember all of it clearly. But I doubt I would forget a factory in a forest connected to the park. When I think of it, I don't remember a forest being connected to the park, at least not this park anyway. There’s the factory. It looks strangely pristine and welcoming, except it's covered in a soft, glowing mist. Just looking at it sends a shiver down my spine, but my friends seem unfazed by it. At this point, I almost want to turn around and go back to the park, but I can’t resist exploring this place. I have to know what’s inside, especially with that oddly faint but beautiful light emanating from it. Besides, as I look back at the forest, I realize It's not much better, and I don't remember the way back anyway. Well, I'd better try to catch up with my friends. I don’t want to be even more lost. This place isn’t so scary. The more we explore it, the more we realize how interesting and even fun it is. This place is starting to seem a bit familiar. I think I have been to a place like this before. I think it was some sort of field trip. I remember being fascinated by the lights, sounds, big freezers, and conveyor belts. It just seemed so otherworldly to me at the time. I was so young, and now my memory is so hazy that it almost feels like a dream. The few memories I have from being this young have almost completely faded. God, that’s depressing because they’re some of the few truly happy memories I have.
I can’t help but smile at the sight of my friends having so much fun. Their laughter and joy are just so infectious. The factory is even more wonderful than I expected. There are all kinds of machines and gadgets that I don’t recognize, but they look cool and futuristic. Some of them are still working, making weird noises and flashing lights. This place is starting to seem like a wonderland, full of surprises and discoveries. Some machines can do amazing things, like create music and paint pictures. My friends and I are having the time of our lives, exploring every inch of the factory. It’s so awesome to press buttons, pull levers, and watch in awe as the machines come to life, creating a symphony of sounds and lights. We pretended to be workers, inventors, explorers, and rebels. We even sang and danced along with the machines. We had so much fun that we lost track of time and forgot about everything else.
However, as the hours pass, a subtle unease creeps deeper into the corners of my mind. It's not about the place itself but rather the idea that this euphoric world could be fleeting and slip away at any moment. This growing sense of dread gnaws at me, but I’m trying to bury it beneath the joy of being with my friends. As the night progresses, the world around us shifts, becoming more twisted and surreal. Everything around me starts to fade away like a painting being washed away by water. Colors blur, blend, and become duller, and the shapes become hazier. The once vibrant factory has begun to lose its luster. The glowing mist is receding, revealing the cold reality that was hidden beneath. The lights flicker and dim, casting long shadows that taunt me. The machinery slows to a grinding halt, the symphony of sounds reduced to an eerie silence. My friends' laughter is becoming distant, their voices muffled, and their once vibrant presence fades. 
Maybe this is just happening here; if we return to the park, everything will be better. As I rush through the factory, I notice it changing further. The machines that once danced with us now seem to groan with exhaustion as they break down and rust before my eyes. The walls are cracked and dirty, and the floor is littered with dust and debris. It's as if this place has been abandoned for years, maybe decades. The factory is crumbling around me, its wonders fading into the void. The entrance seems to be locked or jammed. A sense of urgency creeps in, so I pull harder and harder with all my might. No matter how hard I try and how desperately I want to get back to the park, I can’t force the entrance to open. My body is slumping to the floor as my mind gives way to the feeling of defeat and hopelessness.
Suddenly, panic surges through me, and tears well up in my eyes as the illusion crumbles before me. Memories cascade like waterfalls. I realize that this dreamlike world, this newfound joy, is slipping away. No, this factory isn’t a manifestation of my memories but a distortion of them. A cruel illusion that lured me in and then betrayed me. This realization hits me like a ton of bricks, and a heavy ache settles in my chest. Then, as if on cue, my friends surround me, their faces a mix of sorrow and support, as if they understand the depth of what's happening. One by one, they begin to disappear. Their forms blur and dissolve into vapor like ghosts. My hands pass through my friends like they're clouds as I desperately try to reach out and hold on to this fleeting happiness. It's as if the veil of illusion has been lifted. A dark, thick smog is creeping in, filling the air with a faint smell of smoke and ash. I'm left in a cold, desolate place, the remnants of my joyful memories slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
As I sit here in the cold, lonely darkness, I can see and feel myself rapidly aging back to adulthood. I can see a dull light shining several feet in front of me. I can see it’s the hallway light shining through the open door into the room I’ve been in this whole goddamn time. I'm back where I started. I was never outside; I’ve been trapped within this cruel labyrinth all along. Well, I have to keep going. As much as I don’t want to go through something like that again, I have to try more doors unless I want to stay trapped in this hell. So, I’ll muster up what strength I have left, get up, and force myself to push on forward. The dark, seemingly endless hallway stretches before me as I search for the next door. I remember this area having fewer doors than the first area, but I remember it being more than this. I wasn't expecting to have to search for another door to try. I hope I can find another door to try. There has to be another door, right?
The shadows that once seemed creepy but harmless now feel like ominous entities. The last time I was here, I thought, or maybe was hoping, that I was just paranoid. But now I’m starting to think something is in here, stalking me. Before their shapes were ill-defined, they looked like hands, sure, but only vaguely. They could have been almost anything, some sort of wires for all I know. I swear they’re slowly taking more definite shapes the longer I’m here. Also, I think they might be starting to move. I better pick up the pace. I don’t want to be here long. Haha, it’s almost funny. I mean, there’s one silver lining. At least this creepy maze is keeping me motivated to find an exit quickly. Wow, I must be getting tired. I think I’m starting to get pretty punchy. I’m almost too exhausted to be scared, even here.
Finally, another door. Hopefully, this is the exit. Where am I now? It looks like some sort of cemetery in the middle of a forest. If I didn’t know any better, I think I was outside. So, is that the big fucked up gag of this place? Am I just supposed to keep thinking, ‘Maybe I have made it out this time’ over and over again until I lose my mind? Well, I’m not going to make that assumption again, not after last time, at least not quickly. What was that? “Hello!?! Is somebody there!?!” I know I heard something, and I’m pretty sure I saw them in the distance. It was so hard to tell. I just saw a tall, dark, thin silhouette in the distance for a second. There it is again, and it’s getting closer. I get the feeling I’m not safe here. I should get out of here quickly. 
I’ve been running for what feels like hours. There’s no way I can keep this up. I’m going to pass out. I really must be starting to lose my mind because that pile of leaves is starting to look so comfy and inviting. It does look to be in a pretty tucked away and hidden place. I haven’t heard or seen anything in a little bit, and I could have lost them. This forest is vast and dense. Maybe if I’m cautious and quiet… I can’t believe I’m even considering it, and there’s no way it’s safe. But FUCK! I can hardly stand, and my eyes are so heavy. I can hardly think, I might collapse out in the open soon if I don’t get some rest.
It’s just a pile of leaves, but the relief of finding a temporary refuge is washing over me. Exhaustion is consuming every ounce of my energy, and it’s a struggle to catch my breath as it comes in ragged gasps. My body aches, and my heart races, not just from the frantic running but from the fear that still courses through me. The silence is eerie, almost suffocating. Is it possible that I've managed to escape whatever was chasing me? Or is this just another illusion, a cruel trick of this labyrinth?  I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. 
The ground beneath me feels oddly soft, and surprisingly, the leaves cradle me in a cocoon of comfort. It's strange how desperation can make even the most unlikely places seem inviting. As dangerous as it is, I need to close my eyes for just a moment to rest and regain my strength. As the seconds pass, the inviting warmth of sleep begins to pull me in. I can hardly fight against it to keep my eyes open, and my mind alert. It’s all I can do to remain in a state of semi-consciousness between wakefulness and sleep.
Damn, I must have fallen asleep, where did I end up this time? I seem to be inside some sort of tomb or crypt. It’s weird, but I’m more surprised that I’m still alive than anything else that has happened to me since I wound up in this labyrinth. Who brought me here? How long was I asleep? Why am I on a bed? And such a luxurious one at that? And why is it here, of all places? This is the softest, warmest bed I’ve laid on in my life. It even has silk sheets. Who would sleep in a place like this, besides the dead, I mean? This place is immensely deep, and somehow, it seems even more vast than the white room of the maze. 
My body feels so heavy and disoriented from the abrupt transition I can hardly sit up. My head is throbbing with a dull ache. I can barely concentrate to make sense of my surroundings. The crypt is adorned with intricate designs and symbols etched into the stone with an almost obsessive attention to detail. They seem to depict scenes of life and death, intertwining in a surreal dance. I almost feel like I can hear the carvings singing their history to me. The crypt is dimly lit by a few candles, and the soft candlelight casts eerie shadows that dance across the ornate carvings. It's creepy yet strangely captivating.
The flickering lights seem to play tricks on my mind, making me question whether I'm truly alone in this place. The air feels heavy and suffused with a strange scent that prickles my skin as if the tomb’s history is taking on a physical presence through the air. It’s a stark contrast to the clean, fresh linen scent of the sheets. The crypt itself feels ancient, and I can't shake the feeling that it holds secrets that have been buried for centuries.
This place is creepy as hell, but I can muster the resolve to investigate this strange place. The silence hangs thick, the only sound being the distant echo of a dripping water source. It's eerie, yet I've become somewhat accustomed to the mysterious in this twisted place. As I explore the crypt, minutes turn into hours, or at least it feels that way. Time seems to warp in this place, making it nearly impossible to gauge how long I've been walking. Strange whispers echo in the shadows, and occasionally, I catch glimpses of fleeting movements just at the edge of my vision. Fear and curiosity are wrestling within my mind, but I’ll press on.
There’s something in the distance, and it seems to be a large ornate door. It's adorned with more of those intricate carvings, depicting scenes that seem both otherworldly and strangely familiar. They seem to writhe and move as I look at them, like a living tapestry etched into the stone. I know I should be cautious, but I’m also curious. It’s so cold and rough that it seems impossibly sturdy. I half-expected it to react in some strange way. No matter how hard I press against it, it refuses to budge. Its weight is far greater than I can possibly manage alone. 
I'm not alone, and faint footsteps are echoing in the distance. I’m trying not to let myself freeze out of fear, but, Oh FUCK!… It’s not just footsteps, and I hear a sharp steel scraping against stone. I think they have a knife. My heart just jumped into my throat. The footsteps are getting louder and faster now. I need to open this door, and I don’t have anywhere to run to. More cold sweat pours out of me with every footstep I hear. They started cackling like a rabid hyena, anticipating its next kill. “HELP, HELP…” Maybe I shouldn’t be making any noise right now, but I’m so scared I can hardly think. Besides, they probably know where I am already anyway. Oh my god…
Well… The door opened… I’m not sure if it was my desperate pounding that got it open, but it opened… But I don’t think I’m safe, not for long anyway… I guess I’m going to be sick… This room is not empty, but I wish to god it was… Splayed out naked and mutilated are the corpses of my parents. No matter how tight my chest feels, I have to be very careful about making a sound or even breathing. Because I can hear them cackling and scraping their knife on the other side of the door, I need to find a way to sneak out of here and quickly.
My mind is racing as it tries to process the horrifying scene before me. The sight of my parents' lifeless bodies, so gruesomely displayed, is enough to send waves of shock and revulsion through me. Tears are blurring my vision as I struggle to keep my breathing steady. I’m fighting to suppress the urge to scream in terror. The laughter and scraping sounds beyond the door are intensifying. The chilling symphony of malevolence is driving spikes of fear deeper into my heart. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to escape, to flee from this nightmarish crypt, but the door I entered through is now blocked by the approaching figure. My mind is racing, searching for options. Wait, what is that? It seems to be a narrow passage in the corner of the room. 
My heart is pounding like a drum as I slowly inch toward the passage. Any sound I make could easily be my last. The laughter and scraping are growing louder, and I don’t think I have much time. Every second feels like an eternity, and my entire body is quivering with adrenaline. The passage is narrow and cramped, barely wide enough for me to squeeze through. The air is damp and musty, and I can hear the distant sound of dripping water, like the slow, deliberate beats of some ancient drum. The passage winds and twists, leading me deeper into the bowels of the crypt. It's a claustrophobic journey, but I'm too terrified to turn back.
They must have forced their way through the door and found this passage. I can hear their feet right behind me, furiously pounding on the stone floor. I have to lose my stalker soon if I don’t want to end up like my parents. I don’t know if that was real, but I don't know what is or isn’t real here. So either way, I have to get lost now. I just wish this chamber wasn’t so confusing and claustrophobic. There, that passage looks promising, now or never. Well, I think I lost him. He just ran past me. I managed to catch a glimpse of him. He’s the ugliest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen. It almost looked as though he was rotting. It kind of smelled like it, too, but it was hard to tell. This whole place smells weird. He had the most crazed and bloodshot eyes I’ve ever seen. And that giant grin he had, it was dripping with such intense lust. Maybe it's literally dripping. I think I noticed some drool glistening in his mouth. I can’t dwell on that now, and he could find me again at any moment. I need to put as much distance between him and me as possible. And I have to do it as quickly and quietly as I can. 
My breath is coming in short, shallow gasps as I press on through the narrow passage. The walls feel like they are closing in around me, and the stone seems to be pressing against my body as if it’s trying to swallow me whole. The further I go, the more the walls seem to pulse and breathe as if the very stone is alive. As I navigate the twisting path, I can't help but wonder if I'm walking deeper into the heart of the crypt or if I'm somehow spiraling back toward where I started. Time feels distorted here, as if the walls themselves play tricks on the passage of time. I’m trying to keep my mind focused on finding an exit, on evading the horrifying figure that pursued me. The thought of that grotesque grin and those bloodshot eyes is sending shivers down my spine, like a chilling reminder that danger is always close behind.
This passage seems to stretch on forever, like an endless maze of twists and turns. My legs ache from the constant crouching and shuffling, and my body is protesting against the confines of the space. Panic is threatening to consume me as the walls start to close in even tighter, the air becoming thick and stifling. I can feel the weight of the crypt pressing down on me as if it wants to crush me into nothingness. Just as despair begins to take hold, a faint glimmer of light catches my eye up ahead. It seems to be a flickering light in the distance. Knowing this hell, it’s probably a trap, but it’s my best hope. Actually, it’s my only hope, and I’ll take any hope I can get right now. Besides, I’ll just be happy to get out of this suffocating little chamber. I’m pretty sure I’m heading towards a room filled with candles. I recognize that vaguely haunting smell. 
Oh! Wow! That’s even more candles than I expected. And this room is so massive, it's almost as if the crypt has expanded to fit a cathedral within its depths. The walls are glistening with moisture, reflecting the dim light of the candles that line the chamber in an eerie, flickering glow. But what draws my attention are the colossal statues and towering figures of stone that stand sentinel in the corners of the room. They are grotesque, human-like figures with exaggerated features and twisted expressions. All except the one at the center, the one the others are facing. It is grotesque like the others, even more so actually. However, it hardly looks human in any way. It only looks slightly humanoid because it’s primarily upright but with a strange, creepy posture. It seems to be some sort of massive pig monster. 
I can’t tear my gaze away from this hideous beast or its wild, greedy, hungry, lustful smile. Its eyes follow me as I step into the chamber. A chill is crawling up my spine at the sensation of being watched. The other statues are kneeling towards and bowing at the pig monument, and they seem to worship it as some kind of god. The air in this room feels charged with an otherworldly energy, like static electricity prickling at the edges of my senses. I’m trying to steady my breathing, to calm the erratic beat of my heart, but it's a futile effort against the surreal horror of this place. The walls seem to pulse and shift, casting eerie shadows that dance along with the flickering candlelight.
I can't shake the feeling that I've stumbled into the heart of something ancient and malevolent. The statues that surround their pig god appear to be caught in the midst of some unnatural dance, their limbs contorted in ways that defy the laws of anatomy. It's as if they're trapped in a permanent state of agony, captured in the midst of some dark ritual. The pig thing at the center of it all exudes an aura of power and malice that chills me to my core. Its eyes, two black pits of hunger, seem to bore into my very soul. I feel as though I'm being judged and assessed for some unknown purpose that sends waves of terror rippling through me. My gaze falls upon an altar situated at the foot of the pig statue. On it rests an assortment of offerings, bizarre trinkets, and objects that defy explanation. Glistening gems, delicate bones, and strange, pulsating plants form a chaotic collage of offerings, and their significance is lost on me. But it's the object at the center of the altar that really catches my attention: a glinting, obsidian dagger, its blade reflecting the candlelight like a malevolent star.
My fingers are twitching with a mixture of revulsion and curiosity, the compulsion to touch the dagger warring with the instinct to flee this unholy place. I can almost hear a whisper, a sinister susurration at the edge of my awareness, urging me to take the dagger, to become a part of whatever twisted ritual this chamber is devoted to. Every fiber of my being screams against it, but a morbid fascination is griping me, a pull that I can't entirely ignore. The statues continue their silent worship, their stone forms seeming to shift and move in the corner of my vision. It's as if the very fabric of reality is warping in this chamber, a twisted distortion that threatens to tear my sanity apart. I can feel my mind slipping, my grip on reality weakening as the presence of the pig grows more suffocating, its influence seeping into the very marrow of my bones.
I need to escape this place, to break free from the tendrils of malevolence that are threatening to ensnare me. The exit I entered through seems to have disappeared, swallowed by the shifting walls of the chamber. Panic is surging through me like a rising tide that threatens to drown my rational thoughts. Desperation takes hold, and I turn to face the other side of the room, searching for any way out. There, tucked into a shadowed corner, I spot a small corridor. It's barely noticeable amidst the grotesque splendor of the chamber, but it offers a sliver of hope. The corridor is cramped, forcing me to squeeze my way through the suffocating darkness. The walls seem to press in on me, a claustrophobic embrace that ignites a fresh wave of panic. But I need to escape this nightmare that I've stumbled into. The passage twisting and turning, and the sound of my ragged breath echoes off the stone walls.
A bone-chilling sound is reverberating through the chamber—the guttural snarl is sending my heart plummeting into my stomach. There it is—the pig. Its eyes are burning with an unholy fire, fixated on me with an intensity that freezes my limbs in place. I have no place to go, and I hate the way it’s staring at me. It’s moving closer towards me, and I don’t want to think about what it’s going to do to me. I can’t. This can’t be real. This isn’t happening.  “OH GOD NO, PLEASE HELP SOMEBODY, ANYBODY”
What?!? What happened?!? I’m… Awake? I’m in my bed?... Was that all a dream? That all felt so very real. It was the most vivid dream or nightmare I’ve ever had. I’m still shaking, and I’m drenched in sweat. I need to relax. Hopefully, something on TV will calm me down. I’d take one of my gummies to rest, but after that surreal nightmare, I just want to leave my head alone, at least for a bit. I really need to make myself some breakfast and take a shower. I feel like such a mess and so weak. I thought I fell asleep at work. Was that all part of the dream, too? Was that whole day a dream? How long have I been sleeping? I’m so confused.
My legs are so wobbly, and I feel like a newborn deer trying to walk for the first time. I’m going to splash some water on my face to try to wake myself up and feel a little less gross. Gawd, I just noticed myself in the mirror. I have never looked so tired, and I didn’t even know anyone could have such dark bags under their eyes. My eyes look so bloodshot, and they almost look like they’re bleeding. I’m starving. I'll eat breakfast first before I run out of energy to do anything and fall back to sleep.
Let’s see what we have around here. I’m so tired that I can hardly think or remember much. Some cereal, milk, a potato, and an apple. I’ll just turn this potato into hashbrowns, and this will all work. I probably should find something chill to watch online, maybe some fun fact videos. Well, I’m not entirely so exhausted anymore, but I still feel like a gross mess. So I’ll just clean up and take a nice long relaxing hot shower. 
Yeah, I really needed this. The hot water cascading over me is like a soothing balm for my frayed nerves. It’s very relaxing, but I can’t stop thinking about that nightmare I just had. Why did I have such a disturbing dream? All of it was just so vivid, and it feels unsettlingly real. I never had a nightmare like that before. It was the most intense and bizarre dream I’ve ever had, and I wonder what could have caused it. I need to relax; I just try and forget about it for now. I hate spacing out with negative thoughts. Especially in the shower, The air always ends up getting so muggy and hard to breathe.
Well, that shower was nice, mostly. Let’s see what I have to wear, it looks good. What’s this in my pocket? Oh, it’s one of those toy spider rings I used to collect every Halloween when I was a kid. How did that get in there? Shit, the power just cut out. Wait, when did it get so dark outside? What’s happening? Why won’t this spider ring come off? Oh no, OH GOD! OH FUCK!! Damn it!! This isn’t my place, is it? Everything around me is dissolving into mist. This is still the labyrinth. Not again! “WHO’S DOING THIS TO ME!?! WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH!?! PLEASE LET ME GO!!”
What was that? I swear I just saw something in the corner of my vision. There it is again, and it just darted out of the room. It was so quick and dark I could hardly make out what it was. It looked like the shadow of some small creature, a cat, maybe. What? The door slowly swung open as if something just lightly pushed on it. I’m not sure why, but I think I should try to follow that thing I just saw. For some reason, I have a good feeling that it will lead me to the exit. It just dashed around the corner, that little guy is fast. I hope I’m making the right decision by following this thing. It certainly feels like the right one. I can’t explain it, and I just have a warm feeling about where it’s leading me, like it’s taking me somewhere comfortable and safe. This is so weird even for this place, but I have the sense I can trust this thing, and I don’t know why.
It just disappeared through that cracked open door. I guess this is where it was leading me. There’s a bright blue light spilling out of the room and shining out the crack in the door. It feels so warm and welcoming but part of me still feels a little confused and nervous about this. I still feel like I should follow it through this door, though. The air in this room is different; it’s nice, and it has a faint honey scent. It seems to be a white room drenched in bright blue light. After living in a blue and white room and having colored lights for so long, I feel light. I can tell the difference between this and blue paint. There is a single blue ceiling light bathing the entire room in the most relaxing shade of blue. There are large pillows, stuffed animals, and rubber toys all over the place. The floor is covered in warm, soft carpeting, and I can easily imagine myself falling asleep on the floor here.
It's like entering a sanctuary, a haven from whatever malevolent force lurks in the shadows of this place. The soft glow of the blue light envelops me, calming my nerves and soothing my senses. The door clicked shut behind me. I should be more worried, but I still feel like I can trust this place, and I just want to relax. It's as if the air itself is imbued with a comforting energy, wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a part of me welcomes this respite. I’m drawn to a cozy-looking corner adorned with a pile of cushions. I couldn’t resist the urge to sink into the softness. I can feel a wave of exhaustion washing over me. I’m so drained from the events of the day—or perhaps days. Time seems to blur in this place. It’s difficult to discern how long I've been wandering this maze of corridors and shadows. It's as if all the tension and fear that have been coiled within me for so long are slowly unraveling, replaced by a sense of peace I haven't felt in ages.
Oh? I must have dozed off there for a bit. Well, I suppose I should get back to looking for the exit to this maze. What the hell!?! The door is locked! It won’t budge, no matter how hard I force it. Wait!?! What was that sound!?! It sounded like a high-pitched giggle. I think the light darkened a little. There’s that noise again! It’s echoing through the room. The lights seem to be slowly turning purple. "Don't you want to play?" What was that? It sounded like a child’s voice. The voice seems to be emanating from the toys and plushes. The toys and plushes, once harmless decorations, now seem to leer at me with malevolent intent. They seem to come alive, their eyes glowing with an eerie light as they inch closer. The giggles are echoing again. "Don't you want to play?" The voice is innocent yet chilling, like a child's playful invitation twisted into something sinister.
The light is shifting further, casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls. The toys are moving, their plush bodies contorting into unnatural shapes. Some of them seem to grow larger. Others skitter across the floor, their movements jerky and disjointed. They seem to watch me with beady, plastic eyes. No matter how desperately I pound on the door, it remains stubbornly sealed shut. The honey scent is now overpoweringly, sickly sweet, and it clings to my lungs. The child's voice is taunting me, growing louder and more menacing with each passing moment. "Why are you leaving? We just want to play." The playful questions hang in the air, dripping with malice. The giggling is intensifying, echoing off the walls in a warped chorus. The light is getting darker and turning red. Out of the corner of my eye, I see another one of the monstrous figures scurrying towards me, its stitched smile splitting its face wide open. I have to fight back.
Adrenaline is coursing through me, momentarily shattering the delusion of safety this room had cast. The first blow lands with a sickening thud, sending stuffing flying in all directions. But it's not enough. I need to destroy them all. With each punch and kick, I can feel the tension and fear of this place being released, replaced by a primal rage. The laughter, if you could call it that, morphed into a high-pitched screech.  But the toys are fighting back, and their movements are becoming more frantic as they realize the threat I pose. The plush bodies swarm, their movements faster now, fueled by some unseen malice. I’m not aiming for precision anymore. It’s pure, desperate violence. These... things... thrive on fear. They feed off the playful invitation, the warped sense of innocence.  I won’t give them that.  I won’t play their game. They’re clawing at me with fabric claws, their soft bodies concealing sharp edges that tear at my skin. Yet I press on, fueled by a determination to escape this nightmare. The room is filled with the sounds of ripping fabric and breaking plastic, punctuated by the manic giggling of the toys. The room is now silent, the only sound the pounding of my heartbeat. The air is heavy with the scent of honey and blood, a stark reminder of the violence that has just unfolded. WOW! That was exhausting! I’m so drained.
What? I must have fallen asleep after fighting those little monsters. OH FUCK! OH NO! Well, the light has turned pure white, but the room is still drenched in crimson red. Those weren’t actually stuffed animals I was fighting, and they were just innocent, tiny animals. Small dogs and kittens and other little animals. They weren’t stuffed at all, and they were all real. This room tricked me. I think I’m going to be sick. I need to get out of here, finally the door opens. I made it back out into the dark hallway. I need to sit. I need to find a way out of this maze, but I don’t know if I can check any more rooms. Not after that. What was that? I just heard someone whisper my name. But I can’t tell where it came from. There it is again. It sounds like it’s coming from everywhere. 
I think it’s coming from the shadows. I swear I can hear faint muttering in between the whispers of my name. No matter how hard I strain my ears, I can’t make out the muttering. I think I can follow where the muttering is coming from, though. WAIT! NO! I can’t follow anything in this labyrinth again. Not after last time, not after what I’ve just been through. I need to find my own way out of here. I’m going to try the opposite direction of the voices.
I’m getting so tired, and I don’t think I’m getting any closer to an exit. I’ve been searching for what feels like hours or maybe even days. I think I might be walking in large circles. I swear I can still faintly see the faint glow of the light from the stuffed animal room.  I hate the idea of just following the direction I’m being led to in this place again. But if I want to escape, I don’t have another option, do I? Fuck! Just thinking of where these voices are leading me is making my heart pound in my chest. Every fiber of my being is screaming for me to turn around. But there’s no chance I’ll find another way to progress to the exit. I’ve been trying to find another way, and this hell has just been jerking me around. At least this is something and not the endless nothing the rest of this place is. 
The shadows are writhing and twisting as they call my name, forming grotesque shapes that dance at the periphery of my vision. I must be headed in the right direction because the muttering is getting louder, yet the words remain unintelligible, as if it’s just beyond the edge of comprehension. Fear is gnawing at the edges of my sanity, threatening to consume me entirely. The path is twisting and turning, and I can't help but wonder if I'm being led deeper into this surreal labyrinth or if I'm inching closer to an escape. 
There it is, The door the murmuring is coming from. I still can’t make it out at all, yet it somehow sounds very close and a bit melodic. Faint multicolor lights are emanating from behind the door, as it dances around the edges. I’m even more curious than I am scared to see what’s behind this door. Well, there’s only one way to find out, my hands are trembling with nervous energy.
It’s a primarily pitch-black room with a record player in the center. So that’s what that melodic muffled voice was. It’s playing a very relaxing and melodic song I don’t recognize. The floor is strangely soft, almost like walking on bouncy clouds, if that makes any sense. Scenes from my life are projected across the curved walls: some I recognize, and some I don’t. I can’t tell where they’re being projected from. There’s no projector, and this room doesn’t have a ceiling. These perfectly smooth walls just seem to extend endlessly upward.  There’s me playing with my little dog shadow. He was such a cute and cuddly little guy. So far, this is the most pleasant part of this labyrinth.
All these nostalgic memories are making me feel warm and content. It’s like being wrapped in a warm fuzzy blanket. I could sit and lose myself in these memories forever. It’s all so beautiful and blissful. Maybe my life isn’t so bad after all, maybe it’s just my perspective and everything is already perfectly fine, maybe I shouldn’t worry, maybe I could just stay here forever. 
No, I can’t stay here. I need to find the exit. What’s wrong with me? I can barely stand. My legs are so weak and wobbly. It’s almost like I forgot how to stand. Wait!?! What happened to the door!?! What’s going on!?! It must be this place or whoever is controlling it. It doesn’t want me to leave, and it's trying to pacify and numb me. That must be why it’s showing me happy memories alongside such soothing music. I should have known better than to trust anything in this place, even for a second. These aren’t even my actual memories, not entirely, anyway.
Sure, I’ve had a few months here and there that were mostly pretty happy, like going to Disneyland or having a few happy holidays with my grandparents. But even those happy memories have some very depressing moments. Every time my family went anywhere, my parents yelled and screeched at each other. During each visit to Disneyland, they fought most of the time we weren’t in the actual park. And I got into pretty heated fights with my grandparents on a few visits. Like when I was a kid, and they forced me to go to some elaborate Christmas attraction despite how sick I was. These projections are a lie by omission. “This whole goddamn place is a lie!” 
The projections are blurring and flickering, their images swirling together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. They're no longer happy memories. They're now nightmarish images of my darkest fears. They’re showing me scenes of my worst failures, my deepest regrets, my most painful losses. They’re mocking me, taunting me, reminding me of how worthless and hopeless I am.  Maybe if I turned off the record player. I don’t see a cord or button anywhere on it, and I don’t even see a record.
Screw it, I’ll just smash the thing. Well, I should have known this soft floor wouldn’t break it. Maybe against the wall? Hell, I think that just made it louder. I would be scared, but I’m just too pissed off at this point. I’m really sick of this place toying with my mind. The record player has been getting louder and faster by the minute since I tried to smash it. The music is getting increasingly distorted, filling my ears with a cacophony of screeching notes. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard, like a dying animal's cry or a siren's wail.
I can’t take it anymore, and I can’t bear to see these images. I’m losing it. Everything is wrong. Everything is terrible. I can’t stop it, I can’t fix it, nothing is right, nothing I do is right, there is no way out. Oh fuck I can feel my heart pounding a million miles a second It’s terrifying, madding, infuriating, and exhilarating, like lightning in my brain. It hurts so much. I could scream, where is that manic screeching cackle coming from? Holy fuck, that’s me, isn’t it?  God damn, that’s funny. I feel angry, I feel strong, I feel scared. It feels so good, and it feels so wrong. I can hardly think. I have this horrible, draining feeling in my gut; it feels so cold, and I just feel so hopeless. It’s just such a sickly feeling. The lighting in my brain is such a scary, depressing, weakening, and frustrating feeling. It's like my brain is desperately screaming out to everyone and everything and creating a painful feedback loop. I can’t explain it, and I can hardly think. It’s like a headache suddenly zapping through my brain. It’s like pulling a muscle, and that muscle is my brain. This place, this chaos, it’s flooding my mind with a raging storming of emotions all wrestling for my attention.
I need to break out of this hell now. Maybe I could try climbing the walls, and it’s all I can think to do. I’m going to do it. If that’s what it takes to escape this nightmare, I’ll claw my way up these damn walls, and I’ll force myself up out of here. The wall is hard and smooth like marble, but I can’t let that stop me. I can’t let anything stop me. 
My muscles are burning, my heart is racing, and my mind is blurring as I attempt to climb. It's a slow, agonizing ascent. Every inch feels like an eternity. The cacophony of distorted music and nightmarish projections are assaulting my senses. It's as though the room itself is trying to pull me back into its nightmarish embrace, break me down, and make me give up. But I must push through the overwhelming dread; I refuse to let anything distract me. I won’t let this place win. I’m stronger than this, I’m better than this, I have to be.
If I can just make it above this cursed room I can escape. There's no end in sight, but I cannot give up now. The music's intensity and distortion peak, as I continue to climb, reaching an unbearable crescendo. But I refuse to yield. I will not let this place consume me. The room's bizarre nature is becoming even more pronounced as I climb higher, the projections are shifting and distorting, as though the very fabric of reality is unraveling.
I can see my parents’ faces twisted with rage and hatred. They’re shouting at me, telling me how much they despise me, how much they regret having me. They’re blaming me for everything that went wrong in their lives, for their divorce, for their misery. They’re saying I’m a failure, a disappointment, a burden. They’re saying they wish I were never born.
I can see my friends’ faces laughing and mocking me. They’re telling me how much they hate me, how much they used me, how much they lied to me. They’re saying I’m a loser, a freak, a nobody. They’re saying I have no talent, no potential, no future. They’re saying they never cared about me.
I can see my own face staring back at me with contempt and pity. It’s telling me how much I hate myself, how much I loathe myself, how much I want to die. It’s saying I’m worthless, hopeless, helpless. It’s saying I have no purpose, no meaning, no reason to live. It’s saying I should just give up.
The room seems to stretch on infinitely below, and the swirling chaos is both mesmerizing and terrifying. But I can't afford to look back. I need to reach the top to find an escape from this twisted labyrinth.
I can feel blood dripping from my fingers, but I don’t care. I need to get out of here, and I need to get away from this noise, this madness. As I pull myself up, inch by inch, I hope to find a window, a door, anything. But there is nothing, just more marble, more projections, more horror.
The projections swirling around me are turning into a dizzying vortex, the chaotic images and ear-piercing music is disorienting me. I can’t block it all out, no matter how hard I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus only on the feel of the wall under my fingers and toes as I slowly ascend.
I can’t take it anymore. I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t live like this anymore. I scream louder and louder, trying to drown out the voices in my head. But they only get louder and louder, too, echoing and amplifying in my ears. They’re driving me insane.
I've never sweated so much in my life, and I think I’m somehow more drenched now than in the shower. Between that and my tears, I feel like I’m spraying water harder than a firehose. All this water is making it even harder to claw my way up this wall. I need to hurry, or I’m going to slip and fall.
My fingers are slipping, and I’m sliding down. I can’t fall, not now, and I can’t be stuck in here. I need to fight my wall up this damn wall. This can’t be happening, and I won’t let it. I can’t let it. I’m falling. No, no, no, this can’t be happening.
What? Did I land in water? I can hardly see anything. I need to find the surface; I need to swim out now. I’m not sure which way is up; I just have to hope I’m headed in the right direction and when I make it out, I‘m not still trapped in the same room. Well, I made it out, out of that room and out of the water. The water vanished as soon as I made it out, and I’m completely dry. But I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. I caught a glimpse of my surroundings and immediately shut my eyes tight. I can’t bear to open them again.
I’m in some kind of mirror prison. The whole room is made of mirrors or one big mirror. It’s really confusing but that’s not why I can’t bring myself to open my eyes. I can’t stand to look at my reflection, and I’m surrounded by it. I tried mindlessly breaking the mirrors, but it didn’t work. My fists just bounced right off. I wish so much I could smash every bit of this mirror room, not just because it’s my reflection but also for a few reasons. The way it’s looking at me, those eyes, my eyes judging me so very deeply. I just can’t take it! And it doesn’t look quite right. I don't really look like that, do I? That’s not really me, is it? It definitely looks like me, but something is off. My skin is pale, covered in slime, and almost looks rotted. My nose is bulbous, crooked, and misshapen. My hair is dry, tangled, and matted. My teeth are all jagged, discolored, and different sizes. My gut is fat, lumpy, and saggy. My eyes… my eyes… I don’t want to think about what I saw when I looked into my eyes.
I tried to look down directly at myself to disprove at least some of the lies the mirror is telling me. But all I saw was the exact same creepy freak that was staring back at me in the mirror. Despite everything else, it’s like I said. The worst part of looking at my reflection is looking into my own eyes. The rest of it, as terrible as it is, is almost nothing to me compared to the horror of seeing my eyes. It’s like they say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and I can’t stand to peer through those windows. 
“Look at yourself. Look at what you’ve become.” “Who said that?” It sounds like my voice is twisted and distorted. “I’m you, you pathetic, worthless, disgusting creep.” It’s my reflection mocking me, and the more it talks, the more its voice echoes.
"What do you want from me!?!" 
“I want you to see, see the real you, see the monster you truly are inside and out.” 
“WHY!?! Why god damn it!?! Why do I need to see? I already know I’m a hideous beast inside and out, especially inside.” 
“No, you don’t. If you did, you would have already killed yourself.” 
“FUCK YOU! I attempted suicide so many times, and I’m just too much of a coward.” 
“Is that your excuse? Is that how you excuse continuing to curse the world with the hopeless creep you see before you?” 
“SHUT UP! I’m not hopeless.” 
“Oh really? Aren’t you? What do you think Jack, Alex, or Robin would have to say about that?” 
“I don’t know.” 
“What!? You don’t know? OH, you know. You know very well. Don’t you?” 
“No, you’re not real. You’re just an illusion trying to deceive me and break me down.”
“Hahaha, I’m very real, as real as you are anyway. I’m not deceiving you, and I’m being honest with you. I’m far more honest with you than you are with people who you claim to love.”
“Why are you hurting me? Why are you trying to break me? Why do you want me to convince me to kill myself?”
“We’re the same person, remember? You know why.”
“Maybe I do, but you’re the one torturing me. Answering me is the least you can do.”
“Because I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of fighting you, tired of fighting our friends, tired of fighting everyone we meet. I’m tired of fighting through every torturous night of brutal loneliness. I’m tired of fighting against the desire to end it all and finally be at peace. I’m exhausted trying to figure out how to be happy. I’m tired of being you. I’m sick of trying to figure out why we are the way we are and how to fix it. I’m sick of the madness. I’m sick of fearing for our future. I’m sick of regretting our past. I’m sick of watching us hurt everyone we love. I’m sick of trying to solve our problems, trying to escape the pain, failing miserably, relapsing, and watching us emotionally torture and abuse someone we love and deeply care about. I’m sick of you, sick of us, sick of myself. I’m sick of how you disappoint me constantly. I’m just so sick of it all. I’m tired of being so empty and broken. I’m sick of being scared of our friends and even more afraid of myself. We’re only really happy when we’re asleep, you know that. Doesn’t the final big sleep sound so wonderful.”
“STOP IT!”
“I’m sorry, but I just want off this crazy ride. It's so bad. I would give anything to break up with myself. This really just isn’t working out at all between me and myself. We’re just too different. I’ve had some really unhealthy relationships in life, but by far, the most unhealthy one I’ve ever been in is this one between myself and I. I’ve tried so very hard to make work between us. I’ve tried everything I could think of, but it’s just not working. I just don’t want to deal with myself anymore. I’m done. I just wanna give up on us.”
“How can I be too different from myself?”
“Why do you keep asking questions you know the answer to?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“Well, it’s your turn to answer this one.”
“It’s true because no matter how hard I try… Every time I put myself out there… Every time I try to interact with people, I can’t manage to act like myself. I drive people, and Iy, I scare them off. Especially when I try to be myself, it’s actually easier to act like myself when I make up a fake persona and try to be someone else. But doing that isn’t me either. I shouldn’t have to do that or feel the need to do that. That’s not me. The person I act like when I try to be myself and interact with people is creepy, nuts, selfish, and fights with people all the time. That’s not me; I’m a confident, soft, very social, friendly, cuddly teddy bear who really cares about people. I care about everyone who considers my friend far more than I care about myself. I’m a confident, fun, goofy, charismatic, smart empath. The only version of me anyone knows Is a crazy, selfish, scary, weak, untrustworthy dumbass. I’m someone who would do anything to protect my friends and make them feel safe. But I can’t stop hurting and scaring them. I’m a contradiction because I’ve never been myself, and I don’t know how to be. I’m usually the opposite. I was never good enough to be me.”
“Do you have any bright ideas of what to do about that? Or do you finally wanna go with my plan?”
“Well, I said I’ve never acted like myself or felt like myself. But that’s not entirely true. When I was a really young little kid, like five and younger, most of those memories were happy, healthy, and perfectly fine. Sometimes, when I’m stoned out of my mind, I feel like a tiny kid again. Besides that, the only other times were the few times I felt like I truly had friends. And a couple of times I wrote short fiction stories, I felt so proud. Even then, those don’t always work to make me feel happy or like myself, not even close.”
“So, what does that mean? Are you just going to continue suffering and just survive on a few rare, short moments of peace and joy? Is that worth it?” 
“Well, hopefully, I can have friends and write stuff I’m proud of at the same time. That’s never been my life.”
“What if that never happens? We both know you’ve tried that so many times, but we’ve never been able to maintain one-half of that. We always chase people away, and we’ve hardly ever been able to write because our stress and depression usually weighs down our mind too much. We need our independence and financial security. We never figured out how to get any of that.”
“There has to be some escape, some way out of this nightmare. I can’t believe we’re truly trapped. I mean, I don’t think my mind can process that thought. When I try, I feel like I’m imploding.”
“Well, there’s always…”
“No, I’m not doing that. I don’t even think I can do it anyway. I don’t think I’m much more capable of that than I’m capable of just accepting the situation. No, there has to be something else…
Wait, who’s that?... Is that me? Why can I barely see them, whoever it is? What’s that in their chest?”
“It’s you, but you’re not ready to see them yet. As for the thing in their chest, well, I think you know…”
“It’s so beautiful, I can hardly describe it. It’s so awful and magnificent. It’s so hard to focus my vision on it, but every glimpse I catch of it is more amazing than the last. It’s like a majestic fire, bright, powerful, wild, and full of life. I can’t tear my eyes away from it.”  
“You know we don’t deserve it. Don’t do this, it’s selfish. You know what will happen if we continue to go on. We need to end it here and now for the sake of everyone we’ve ever truly loved. Or have we ever loved any of them? Was it all just a selfish lie?“
“I don’t care about anything you have to say to me. It’s so warm and exciting I can’t stop. I could finally be happy.”
“No. You couldn’t. I wish you would stop lying to yourself, and people get hurt when you do. u do.”
“It’s too incredible. I have to believe i.n it.”
“Damn it!!! Not again”
The thing has grown larger, It’s filling out one side of the mirror room now. I can feel myself drawn into it. But not by some mysterious force. No, it’s my love for this soulful world I’m looking at that’s pulling me in. My hands are the mirror it feels so warm, it’s so relaxing. I can feel my hands slowly slipping into the mirror. I think I’m starting to fall, I can feel the mirror starting to crack.
I’m falling again, I should be scared, but I‘m relaxed. Not just because this is the third time but because what I’m falling through is so beautiful. It’s a world pulsating with vibrant energy, with possibilities I’ve never known, almost like a serene lullaby amid chaos. Yet it feels like a distant memory stirring within. Even the glass shards cascading all around me are reflecting nothing but pure majesty as they twinkle like stars around me. It's as if I’m falling through stardust. Every sensation intensified, bathed in the intoxicating glow of a fire within my chest. 
As I descend, the fire flares hotter, casting off the remnants of the distorted self-reflected in the mirrors. My skin is tingling, shedding the grotesque caricature and revealing a form that feels...familiar, yet different. The colors here are vivid and vibrant, swirling and dancing in harmony. The air is thick with whispers, each one carrying echoes of forgotten dreams and lost aspirations. 
Fucker! Well, I landed. I think I landed on the glass, though. I can’t see, and I can barely feel anything except the sensation of being stabbed and cut in over a dozen different places at once. I know I can move because when I do, I can feel whatever is cutting me getting deeper. But that’s almost all I know. I want to get off of this shit, whatever it is, but I don’t desperately want to avoid moving an inch. 
These things are stabbing me in all kinds of different places.
The pain is overwhelming, yet strangely distant, as if muffled by the dream-like haze enveloping this twisted reality. It’s all I can do to fumble through the emptiness and seek purchase on something, anything, that might offer stability or escape. But every movement sends ripples of agony coursing through me. I think I can feel myself growing more and more numb as the jagged shards embed themselves deeper into my flesh. That should be a relief given the situation, but it’s like icy flames are slowly burning away all my senses. Plus, I’m afraid of what will happen if I crawl through here completely blind and literally senseless.
I can hear faint whispers echoing in the darkness, taunting me with fragmented memories and half-formed thoughts. Every word is like a lit cigarette burning on my mind, setting my spirit on fire, goating me into blind fury. I want to get the fuck out of here now, but I don’t want to just charge through here recklessly. It takes all my will to hold myself back. The more I fight, the louder the whispers grow. My breath quickens, panic clawing at the edges of my consciousness as I struggle to maintain a grip.
I have to try to maintain a balance of focus and fiery determination. It’s the only way I’m going to get through this in one piece. It’s taking so much willpower to force myself to slow my breathing and steady my trembling limbs. I may be battered and broken, but I refuse to be defeated. I will find a way out of this nightmare, no matter the cost.
I’m getting so tired I feel like this place is gradually draining me. I don’t know if I can move. I’m getting more and more afraid that I’ll hurt myself if I try to keep on moving. I just wish I didn’t have to keep on fighting. Why do I have to be put through this? I just wish I could relax.
I can feel myself melting, and It’s so lovely. It feels like I’m slowly melting into love. It’s another world, a good one. It kind of feels like there is something holding me back from melting. Whatever it is, it really hurts, but I don’t have to focus on it now. Oh, I love the melting. It’s so warm. The thing holding me back still creeps in a bit, but I’m so good. I can feel myself sliding down, and it’s so lovely. What was that? I think I almost saw something important. 
What happened? I must have fallen asleep. At least I made it out of there somehow, and I’m not melting anymore. But where am I now? I’m trapped in some sort of tiny, cramp, dark, dank cave. It’s brighter than that last place, but it’s very dark. I can barely see anything around me. And I can hardly move. It’s so cramped. For some reason, this is making me feel incredibly uneasy. I feel like I can hardly breathe. I think I’m starting to panic. I’ve always been a little bit claustrophobic, but never this much, not even close.
What was that? I heard a noise. It sounded like a slow thud. There it is again. It’s coming closer, and I have to hide. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I can feel it vibrating in the ground as if something huge is approaching. How can this thing even fit in this cave? I think I found a decent place to hide. It’s even more cramped than where I was and not super well hidden, but it’s the best I can find. Wait, there’s another noise, which sounds like a rapid clicking noise. It’s growing louder, too, and slightly faster than the thud. It's an unsettling sound, like the chittering of insects or the skittering of claws against stone. My mind is racing with fear, trying to rationalize what could be making those noises in this desolate place.
I’m huddled in a really cramped space, trying to make myself as small as possible. My breath is hitched in my throat, dry and ragged. My heart is hammering in my chest, each beat echoing in the suffocating darkness. I’m straining my ears, trying to gauge the distance between me and whatever is approaching. FUCK that thing is screeching like a crazed furious banshe. It’s making my ears bleed. 
It must be two different creatures because one of them is roaring back. It’s the angriest sound I’ve ever heard, and It almost sounds like an explosion of rolling thunder.
I’m frozen, huddled in place, my entire body tense with fear as the cacophony of terrifying sounds echoes through the cramped cave. I’m trying to control my breathing, but it's becoming increasingly difficult as the cacophony of noises fills the cramped cave.
My breath is hitched in my throat, dry and ragged. Every instinct is screaming at me to flee, to find some way out of this nightmarish situation, but I dare not move a muscle. I’m straining my ears, trying to gauge the distance between me and whatever is approaching.
What? It doesn’t sound like they're getting any closer. It sounds like they're attacking each other. They sound increasingly frustrated, desperate, and pained. Like they desperately want to kill each other. This might be my chance to escape. With the creatures distracted by their own conflict, I might have a fleeting opportunity to slip away unnoticed. But the thought of leaving the safety of my hiding spot fills me with a paralyzing dread. What if they catch sight of me? What if they decide to turn their fury on me instead? I’m torn between the instinct to flee and the fear of what might await me outside this spot. I know that I can't stay hidden forever. I have to make a choice, and I have to make it now. Wait, I don’t hear the fighting anymore. Where is that light coming from? It’s so bright and warm. 
“It’s ok, you can come out now. I’ll keep you safe.” That voice sounds so familiar, but for the life of me, I can’t place it, no matter how hard I try. It sounds like the voice of a sweet, gentle, angelic woman. After all that, I’m still a bit shaken up and nervous, but that voice does help me feel safe, and I am pretty curious. So, I’m going to step out and look. I see a figure standing before me, bathed in an ethereal glow. It's a woman, her features obscured by the radiance surrounding her, but there's a sense of familiarity in her presence that soothes my frayed nerves.
Despite the overwhelming fear that still lingers within me, there's a strange sense of trust that blooms in her presence. “Follow me I’ll keep you safe” she assured as she extended a hand towards me, offering comfort in her gentle demeanor. "Who are you?" I manage to stammer out, my voice barely a whisper, still gripped by the remnants of fear. “I’m your guardian angel” she replied with a soft smile. 
I can’t help but reach out and take her hand, her presence just feels so calming and safe. I probably should be more skeptical but I’m just happy to not feel scared in this nightmare. “Where are you taking me” I barely manage to ask as she leads me through the cave. “Somewhere safe” she replies with a soft and soothing cadence.
I don’t know why, but I believe her. Following her is all I can bring myself to do. I don’t think I can do anything else. The darkness is slowly fading as we walk. It’s replaced by a soft, comforting light. The light is gradually growing stronger as we walk through the cave. The air is getting warmer and more soothing, too. The tension in my muscles is easing with each step forward. Is this truly happening? Am I really being guided by a guardian angel? Questions swirl in my mind, but I find myself trusting her implicitly as if her presence alone is enough to banish the shadows of doubt that linger within me. With each passing moment, I feel more at peace, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. The woman's presence is a balm to my battered soul, her aura radiating warmth and protection. Despite the unfamiliar surroundings, I find myself strangely at ease in her company. It's as if she has the power to dispel the darkness that threatens to consume me, replacing it with a sense of hope and renewal.
We made it to where she was leading me. It’s clearly still part of the cave, but just barely. I never thought a cave could feel this warm, inviting, or safe. The rough stone walls are no longer oppressive but smoothed and carved with intricate designs that glow faintly, casting an otherworldly light. Bioluminescent mushrooms dot the cavern floor, their soft luminescence adding to the ethereal ambiance.
“Relax, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you take a nap in the bed I have ready for you?” she says, gesturing towards a very soft-looking bed in the corner of the room. There’s still a minute part of me that’s unsure if I should trust her, but I’m so drained. I don’t think I can resist the prospect of sinking into that inviting embrace of softness and warmth. Ohh… Hell… What’s the worst that could happen? “Now, just get some rest while I get you something to eat. You must be starving,” She says as she disappears into the darkness of the cave.
What’s that? Something about my guardian angel’s steps as she walks off into the darkness. They sound familiar somehow. It sounds almost like a faint rhythmic clicking. I’m so tired and hungry. I’m sure it’s my mind playing tricks on me. 
Well, that was a nice nap. “What’s that smell?” something smells so good, and I’m so hungry I couldn’t help but blurt my question out loud. “It’s your breakfast, my dear,” the angel lovingly answered back. She’s carrying a tray with the most delicious meal I’ve ever seen. Whoa!? I must be starving; I could have sworn I just saw the angel's light flicker, and I saw something underneath. Something elongated, segmented limbs and a set of sharp mandibles. But as I look at her now, I know that couldn’t have been real. I must be losing it a bit from hunger. I do feel a bit weak.
The aroma of the food is intoxicating, and my stomach is so empty it feels tight. The food is exquisite, and each bite is a symphony of flavors that dance on my tongue. My strength is beginning to return with each bite. Despite the lingering unease, I can't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. As I finish my meal, the angel offers me a gentle smile. "Feeling better?" she asks, her voice a soothing melody in the cavernous chamber. "Thank you," I murmured softly, unsure of how else to express my gratitude.
“You’re welcome. Here, let me clean that up for you,” The angel says sweetly as she carries out the remnants of my breakfast back into the darkness. There it is again, the clicking. I guess that’s my cue to leave. As much as I want to stay here with the angel, I have to find a way out of here. God, this place is dark. I can hardly see my hands in front of me. What’s that noise? The chittering sounds like it’s following me. I should hurry up, and I don’t think I want to be caught by that thing. I still don’t know where I’m going, but I’m going to try to head in the exact opposite direction of that disturbing skittering noise. 
I think I finally lost it, and I don’t hear it anymore. All I can hear is myself. That meal the angel fed me was great, but did it have turkey or something in it? I think it might have made me a tiny bit groggy. Yes! I see a faint little light just up ahead. Could that be it!? The exit!?! WAIT!?! NO! It’s the low rumbling again. And it’s coming from the direction of the light. But I’m so close. Maybe if I’m quick, I can make it out before…
NO! It has me in the grasp of its colossal, rough, leathery hand. It’s hideous, massives and snarling. It doesn’t even make sense that it fits in this cave. It’s too huge. Its guttural roar is so loud it’s shaking the cave as it echoes. Its hot breath reeks of decay and raw flesh. Its glowing red eyes bore into my soul and chill me to the bone. Its jagged teeth are mere inches from my face. A high-pitched screech is piercing the air from behind me. The beast’s sharp claws are closing in around me. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, and my vision is starting to blur. I think I’m going to pass out. 
What!?! It’s my guardian angel, and she’s carrying me away from that beast. The beast’s furious roars are echoing in the distance as we head deeper into the cave. We made it back to the angel’s sanctuary, and I’m sitting on the bed. I’m not sure what just happened. My mind is still reeling with confusion and fear. I’m not sure if this is due to adrenaline or a trick of the light. But the glow around the angel seems ever so slightly red now.
"Are you okay?" The angel asks, her voice still soft and gentle but firm and somewhat scolding now. "You shouldn't have gone out there." “I... I don't know what happened," I manage to stammer out. "I thought... I thought you were here to protect me." The angel's expression softens, and she places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I am here to protect you, but you have to trust me and stay within the safety of this sanctuary. The creatures that lurk in these caves are not to be underestimated." I nod weakly, still shaken by the close encounter with the monstrous beast. "I'm sorry... I just... I needed to find a way out... I couldn't stay trapped here forever..." The angel's gaze softens, her eyes filled with understanding. "I know it's difficult, but you must trust me. There is a way out, but it will require patience and caution. I will guide you, but you must promise to stay by my side and follow my instructions." "I promise," I whisper back.
“You must be starving after all that. I’ll make you some lunch,” The angel said warmly and with a tinge of concern. I was so hungry I eagerly nodded back without even thinking about it. Before I knew the angel returned with the most delicious lunch I’d ever seen. The aroma of the meal is wafting through the air, tempting my senses as the angel sets the tray down before me. The food looks even more appetizing than before, and my stomach is rumbling in anticipation. Despite everything, there's something oddly reassuring about the angel’s presence. 
“Feeling better?" she gently asks, just after I finish and before she cleans up my meal. "Thank you," I murmur softly as she walks back into the darkness. There it is again, the clicking. Oh, I’m much too tired to worry about it now. I need to take a quick cat nap. 
That was a great lunch and a really relaxing nap. But I swear I’m more lethargic than ever. I can hardly think. My mind is a little bit blurry. The warm glow of the cavern offers little comfort now. No matter how hard I try to blink away the haze and clear my thoughts, the lethargy lingers like a heavy weight pressing down on me. Something doesn't feel right, and I can't shake the feeling of being watched. There it is again, that faint clicking sound, echoing through the cavern like the skittering of unseen claws against the stone. The world is spinning around me, and the walls of the cave close in with each passing moment. 
My eyes are starting to feel heavy. The skittering sound is back, and it’s all around me now. The rhythmic clicking is growing louder and closer. I have to get away, I have to get the hell out of here, I have to… What the… What’s this!?! Some sort of web!?! What is… It’s a monstrous segmented, glistening, chitinous leg. "So disobedient, my dear," The creature cries with an accusatory yet strangely familiar voice. “Why are you so determined to abandon me after everything I’ve done for you!?!” 
She is a thin, wrinkled, bony, spidery thing. Her hair hair is dry and wiry like straw. Her face is drooping and sagging. She’s grinning, revealing rows of sharp, grotesque, pointed teeth that glint menacingly in the dim light of the cave. Her voice is a cacophony of discordant tones, echoing with a sinister intent that sends shivers down my spine. Her words are dripping with a twisted affection that sends shivers down my spine.
"You... you're not my guardian angel," I whisper, my voice trembling with fear and disbelief. “How could you say that to me after how I fed you, protected you, and gave you a warm, soft place to sleep!?!” it replies, its voice dripping with frustration. "You tricked me!" I manage to choke out. "Tricked? No, my dear. I provided love, comfort, and shelter. You humans are such dramatic creatures. A little transformation shouldn't frighten you so much. After all, haven't you enjoyed my hospitality?" The creature replies. Its face morphs momentarily back into that of the angel’s. Tears are pouring down its face.
"Please... let me go," I plead. "Let you go? But my dear, you've already made yourself quite at home here," it replies, still trying to guilt me into staying. "You're mine now, body and soul." "What do you want from me?" I demand, my voice quivering with a mixture of fear and anger. The creature's eyes narrow, its mandibles twitching with anticipation. "Oh, my dear. I want nothing more than you, body and soul," it hisses, its voice sending a chill down my spine. "You will become part of the family. A much more permanent guest."
“What are you talking? Why would I stay here with you?” I ask definitely as I struggle against the webbing."Because, my dear, you belong to me now. You wandered into my domain, and now you're mine to do with as I please." Its voice is like nails on a chalkboard. “But I’ll get away eventually. Your webs are already starting to snap. How could you keep me here indefinitely?” I question as I fight against the lethargy.
“What are you doing now?” I ask, confused, why she’s not answering anymore. She seems to be weaving some kind of web on the wall in front of me. The web appears to be almost made of mirrors. It’s hard to put what I’m looking at into words. But everywhere there should be holes between the strands is my reflection, repeated over and over again.
“What is this!?! Please answer me!” I cried out, desperately confused. “Since you asked so nicely. This, my dear, is every part of your soul. Every memory, every reason why you will stay and learn to be a good little pet,” I see myself. I see how weak I am. I know every time I’ve failed, every mistake I’ve ever made. “You see, my dear…” the spider venomously whispers. “You don’t want to be like that person you see in each of those reflections, do you? Don’t you want to be good? Stop hurting others. Stop hurting yourself. Don’t you want to want to stop with the anger, fury, and hurtful choices?” The memories are swirling around me, taunting me with my own weaknesses and shortcomings. "I... I don't know," I murmur. "I've made mistakes, but that doesn't mean I have to be controlled by them." 
"Oh, my dear, but you are already controlled by them. Your past mistakes have shaped you and defined you. And unless you embrace them, accept them, you will never be free." The spider whispers with a sinister melody. Tears sting my eyes as I struggle against the webs that bind me, both physically and emotionally. "I don't want to be controlled by my past," I whisper, my voice trembling with determination. "I want to change, to grow, to be better." "Then embrace me, embrace your transformation," The spider replies as her eyes gleam with satisfaction.
“Why are you doing this to me?” "Why?" she echoes, her voice taking on a theatrical flourish. "Why, for companionship, of course! You see, it gets awfully lonely down here all by myself. But fear not, my dear. You'll provide me with endless entertainment!"
I have to fight. I have to break this webbing. But I don’t think I have it in me anymore. I don’t know if I want to. Every time I get emotional, I just end up hurting people. I don’t think I want to embrace that side of me again—especially the fiery part of me. I constantly embarrass myself and drive away people I love when I see red. I never want to be like that again. I want that version of me to be gone and buried forever.
But if I don’t fight back, I’ll never be me again. Is that so bad? But I will have to be this thing’s doll or pet forever. Do I want that? No, I don’t. I don’t want to let this bitch monster win. My only choice is to fight back. I can’t let the fire inside me die. I can’t let it be snuffed out by this selfish thing. I have no choice but to rip and tear. I can’t ever change.
I need to fight. I need to pull and tear at it. FUCK, I’m so tired, and it’s so strong. Come on, a little more, almost. Yes! It’s starting to break. She’s starting to notice, but I’m just about to break free. NO! She won’t stop me. “Fuck you bitch!” she slashed my arm. She almost got me that time. I have to doge her. So nearly free. I’ll have to use some of this webbing to bandage the wound this damn thing made in my arm. Yes! I’m finally free!
I have to get out of here now! I have to run! I’m so tired! I have to fight to summon every ounce of strength I have left. I have to be fast. I’ll have to make it to the little glimmer of light I found before. It’s dangerous, but it’s my only hope. I'll have to dodge that beast. I can hear that bitch spider chasing me. Hopefully, these fucking things will distract each other. There it is. I hear the rumbling again. 
I can't let fear paralyze me. I have to keep moving forward, no matter how exhausted I am. Yes! That was so damn close. I just barely managed to dodge that giant thing. I can hear them fighting now. But I can’t worry about that now. I have to focus on getting out of here. I can see it so clearly now. Just a little further, and I’ll be free from this hell. But I can't afford to relax just yet. I have to keep pushing, keep running, keep fighting against the darkness that threatens to consume me.
My heart is pounding with each step, but I have to keep moving. The exit is so tiny. My muscles are screaming in protest, but I’ll have to push myself through. It’s such a tight fit, but I can’t let myself die here or, worse, get trapped here as that thing’s immaculate doll. Yes!
YES! I’m nearly out! The light is so bright I can’t see out, but I can feel myself making it out, and I can see the light bathing me. I’M OUT! I’M FREE!
I’m free from that cave, but I’m back in the darkness. Back in that dark labyrinthian hallway, I started in before the cave, the mirrors, and the turntable room, back to being surrounded by all these creepy, eerie shadows. I guess I have to pick another door if I want to make it back home.
“Having fun yet?” That sounded like it came from the shadows. “Hello? Who was that?” Their voice sounds rough and whispery, “I’m your best friend, ha ha ha.” Their voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it. “What do you want?” I think the shadows are starting to move towards me. “I want to make you strong.” They're getting closer now. “What do you mean?” I think the one at the far end of the hallway has red eyes. ”You’re afraid.” I have to get out of here now. “After everything I’ve been through? How could I be afraid of a voice and some weird shadows?” Maybe if I try one of these doors, “You’re terrified, I can smell it on you.” Which one should I pick? “Why do you want to make me strong?” Any number of these doors could lead somewhere even more dangerous. “Don’t bother trying any of these doors. They’re all locked tight.” It’s true; at least this one won’t budge an inch. “Why should I trust you?” Maybe if I try another door, “You still don’t get it?” Fuck I’ll have to run for it. “What are you talking about?” Damn it, every turn and corridor just seems to lead back in the same direction. “Why don’t you stop  running in circles and just give in?” There has to be a way out. “Give into what? Please just leave me alone.” There’s always a way out. “There’s no way out.” It doesn’t know what I’m thinking, does it? “I don’t believe you.” It must be lying, right? “You know I’m not lying.” I found a way out of all those other rooms. “You’re wrong.” I just have to think, “You can’t think your way out of this one.” It’s only responding to my thoughts now, isn’t it?
“Of course, I’m only responding to your thoughts. Why should I respond to your lying words?” What is it talking about? “I’m not lying.” This must be some sort of trick. “You know what I’m talking about, and you know this isn’t a trick. Or are you lying to yourself too now?” Why would I be lying to myself? “What are you talking about?” Why is it being so vague? “You know damn well who I am” Why does it think I know? “Please leave me alone!” Who would terrorize me and say they want me to be strong? “Why are you acting so weak? Stand your ground. Let me see your fire. The fire that helped you escape the spider’s web.”
I see now the shadow wants me to get angry. It wants me to show I have the strength to fight back. But why? “Isn’t it obvious by now why? Think, you know what I am.” What is it talking about? I don’t know anything about this thing, right? Or do I? No! There’s no way! “Yes, you’re so close!” It’s not me, is it? No, it can’t be. It is, isn’t it?
“Yes! Now embrace me! Show me your will to fight! The fire you used to escape The spider and the memories in the room with the turntable” I won't succumb to its dark desires. I refuse to be its pawn. "Don't deny it! You felt a sliver of power in that room, didn't you?  Remember the control you wielded, the memories you subdued? That's the power I offer. We are two halves of the same coin. You crave normalcy, cling to your fragile sanity, while I revel in the darkness you suppress.” I can't let it consume me. "No! I won't embrace you. I won't let you control me. You're nothing but a twisted reflection, a manifestation of my fears. I will find my way out of this maze, and you won't stop me."
The red-eyed shadow is right in front of me now. It’s changing. It’s contorting into a long, tall, thin, and spindly thing. Its fingers are long and sharp like claws, and Its eyes are spiraling. It’s grinning at me with the sharpest teeth I’ve ever seen. Its eyes are glowing glowing and spinning with an almost hypnotic energy. “I know you. Hell, I am you. You always hated and resented how weak and powerless your life made you feel. I know you can’t stand to feel helpless and afraid. I know the fire you see in my eyes roars within you. I’m the only one who has always been there by your side. I know you better than anyone. I’m the only one who always makes you feel good. I’m the only one who never let you down. I’m the only one who always makes you feel confident. I know the fire is intoxicating to you, far more than anything else has ever been. I know the sight of me makes the instinct to fight burn inside you. I know it’s fighting to burst out of you. You’re fighting it, but you can’t deny it.” Its voice is in the air all around me. “Look at your hand. In all the chaos you’ve been through, I bet you forgot you had that spider ring on.” The ring is warping and wrapping itself around my hand. It’s turning my fingers into inky black claws.
“Ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha…” It’s laughing again. It won’t stop laughing. That laugh is so loud, it’s vibrating through everything. It’s piercing my brain. It’s drawing my heart. I can’t stand it. I can’t take it. I FUCKING NEED TO MAKE IT STOP!!! “GOD DAMN IT FUCKING DIE!!! I’M GOING TO RIP YOU APART!!! FUCK YOU!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!”
“HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!...”
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Beings
Category:DIALOGUE!
Category:MOTHER OF FUCK THIS PAGE IS LONG LIKE MY PAINIS
Category:English Class Failure