Chapter Text
The Narrator thought comparing players to bawling babies was a very fitting metaphor. Some players chose to incessantly rebel against his narrative at every turn, some stayed in the broom closet for hours, and some sped through the hallways, refusing to let him catch his breath while reading the script. But nonetheless, they were still very similar - they all demanded a constant stream of entertainment. Very similar to babies in that sense.
It was easy to tell when one player abandoned the Parable, and another picked it up. “Stanley” would first reset to his own office, standing frozen in place for around five minutes, leaving the Narrator to poke at the buttons on his control panel out of boredom. Then, the new player would resume control of the character and begin to prod around everywhere, clicking on non-interactive computers, keyboards, etc.
Well, the Narrator didn’t really have a problem with the curiosity of these players. Each click of the mouse and keyboard that controlled “Stanley” gave him new data to add to his research of how to escape the Parable. Yes, the Stanley Parable is a work of art with most of the narrative masterfully crafted by himself that revealed storylines and choices commenting on human nature - but notice how he said “most” of the narrative.
The Narrator was sure that he was trapped here, despite how the Parable gave him the illusion of being in control.
He was naive at first, thinking that this story was his and he had the creative reign to design it as he pleases. But there were too many factors he couldn’t control for that to be true.
For one, after the first few dozen runs, he decided that he wanted to change the layout of the office and experience a new perspective in his story. But he couldn’t do that. No matter how much he willed for the rooms to shift and for the walls to break away into hallways, he couldn’t do it. And if it was his story to narrate, why could “Stanley” never hear him say anything aside from the predetermined dialogue written in the script? When he asked “Stanley” to nod or shake his head or go down a new route for him to collect new data, “Stanley” proceeded with whatever he was doing, staring blankly ahead as if the Narrator hadn’t said anything at all.
Oh, and that stare. That empty, cold stare. The Narrator hated it. That was the most telling sign that “Stanley” wasn’t real, and the Narrator truly did not have a conscious and empathetic companion trapped in this Parable with him. There was no amusement, sadness, or shock in those eyes, simply acknowledgment and a need for more, more content!
But the Narrator would break out of this Parable. He was sure of that. He refused to stay in a place where his choices were dedicated by an unseen force. (That’s a bit ironic, considering the whole premise of the Parable.) So far, the progress bar was only at 20%. But he had to be patient and wait for the players to produce enough new data from their different actions. Once he had all the data he needed to fully control the game, he would escape.
One small problem though, the newest player is not helping his escape plan. In fact, he hasn’t moved from that one spot on the floor he’s curled up in for hours.
Wait, curled up? The Narrator wasn’t aware that was something the players could do with the model. He moved closer to the wall of surveillance screens. Yes, indeed, “Stanley” was curled up on the carpeted floor. The man had his head cradled in his hands and his legs and arms tucked against himself. He was trembling.
Trembling? The Narrator was profoundly puzzled at that observation and leaned back in his leather chair. Did that mean that “Stanley” was scared? But players weren’t supposed to be able to convey emotions through the character model. They weren’t supposed to curl up, either.
No, that’s not right at all. The Narrator scoffed, to think there would be a bug in the game after all this time. What was the point of all those beta testers then? This new player was supposed to proceed from “Stanley”’s office, choose one of the two doors, and let the Narrator narrate whatever ending they end up choosing! What on earth are they doing?!
A thought popped into the Narrator’s head, and his stomach sank. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or horrified by the thought. But maybe The “Stanley” trapped in his parable at this very moment wasn’t a dumbfounded baby-like player. Maybe it was a real person. Maybe, just maybe, it was Stanley.
Or maybe the beta testers had just missed something. This new player probably just discovered a new function. The Narrator still had a lot to learn about the Parable after all.
Well, there’s only one way to find out. The Narrator reached forward to unmute the mic and cleared his throat.