Chapter Text
The first thing you ever know is a stained checkered pattern. Black and white, intermingling in a simple pattern, broken only by the occasional black splotches. For a few moments, you feel lost. Utterly and ridiculously so. Abandoned by the Universe itself, left alone on the outskirts of reality.
Then, a single word invades your entire being. It is uninvited but makes its way in nonetheless.
Up.
And so, you rise on your feet.
Or you try to, at least. The task is not a simple one. Your entire body protests violently as you try to get off the floor, but it seems the floor is not very keen on letting you go. After slipping and falling for the third time, a thought crosses your mind that, perhaps, lying down and staying here forever may not be such a bad idea after all.
Up. Get up.
Whoever it is sounds very convincing, and so you obey. Two bruised elbows and one bleeding knee later, you are finally standing upright. For the first time in…
Ever? Existence is such an unusual concept.
Well, you are now up, as was kindly advised to you earlier. The problem is that now you have no idea what to do further.
You wait for more instructions to come, but nobody responds. Was there even anyone to begin with?
And thus, you decide on the only logical thing in your head. To interpret the previous piece of advice quite literally.
It is time to go up.
You feel very motivated. A skeleton of a plan starts forming in your head – heading up requires elevation change. What can be the cause of an elevation change in a building? That’s right, stairs. You feel very smart for figuring that one out.
Emboldened with the newfound knowledge, you embark on a journey upwards. Or, at least, the goal is upwards. You, on the other hand, wander very horizontal corridors that do not provide much reprieve. The layout is confusing and lacks logic – a corner that you swear you just turned appears in front of you again, and your head starts hurting from seeing the same empty chair for the fourth time.
You were about to give up and come up with a new plan when you see something new in the corridor ahead. A table. Now, you’ve seen quite a few chairs in your life – four, to be precise – but a table is novel. Unique. Your insides fill with trepidation as you approach the newfound artifact.
It’s made of wood. Sturdy, expensive-looking wood. You run your hands over its red, embroidered cover. You blink at the table. The table blinks back.
Almost immediately, you are thrown backwards and off your feet again. Indignation is the first emotion in your mind. You spent quite a lot of effort to gain your vertical position, and your current horizontality caused by the table was, quite frankly, offensive. You frown deeply.
The table, however, seems to not care for your feelings. It lunges at you, and for a split second you see its legs transform into razor-sharp appendages. A maw opens somewhere under it as the lights in the room flicker and briefly flash red. The shadows start moving, congregating around you. Something slimy and viscous touches your arm, and you try to recoil in disgust.
To your great horror, you realize you cannot move. What has been a curious and humorous situation is quickly turning sour.
The not-table lands on top of you. From here, you can feel its foul breath on your face, rows and rows of teeth staring directly into you. Some of them have eyes, and they stare into your very soul.
The lights flicker once more before going out completely. The silence of the halls is briefly broken by your screams, shortly returning to its perfect equilibrium.
***
The first thing you ever know is a flickering green light. One moment, that is all you can see.
Then, you find yourself vomiting black sludge all over the floor. A memory returns – one of shadows and razor-sharp teeth, the sensation of your limbs being torn apart from your body still fresh on your mind.
That can’t be right, you think. My arms and legs are currently very much attached to my body. But your brain doesn’t lie. You definitely experienced all that. Mere seconds ago. Why, then, are you back here, completely unharmed?
Up.
The voice returns, giving you your mission once again. There is no room for arguing, for there is no point in arguing. Does one argue with their parents while being born? No, for it would be highly illogical.
You get up from your knees and wipe your sweat. This time, you will be more cautious. Less careless. A thought crosses your mind that if you stumble upon the monster again, you’d have to defend yourself.
And thus, you start wandering the halls in search of a weapon. There are several candidates on your journey – a broken glass bottle, an empty suitcase, a hefty book. You consider your options for a moment before your memories kindly provide you with the imagery of the monster’s maw.
A book doesn’t sound like something that would defend you from that. So you keep looking.
The next room you stumble upon is different from the halls. There are some random items strewn haphazardly all around the room. Your first instinct is excitement. There could finally be something here that could be used as a weapon.
Your second, much stronger, instinct is fear.
New means unknown. Unknown means dangerous. Dangerous means very, very painful. You cautiously enter the room. Your whole body is tensed, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Swinging your head around, you try to locate anything that looks out of place.
The only thing of note that is not lying down on the floor is a huge, ornate lantern in the middle of the room. Everything else is utter chaos.
The floor is absolutely littered with newspapers. Most of them are gibberish, accompanied by images of impossible shapes. A thought crosses your mind that their only purpose could be to distract. Immediately, all your senses go into high alert. You scan the room over once again.
Newspapers. Clothes. Sports equipment. Kitchenware.
As your eyes move over the numerous objects, one of them makes you pause. A baseball bat. You nearly sprint to it, elated to have finally found something that could constitute a weapon, even if temporarily. You doubted this bat would survive many encounters with the local monsters, but it was at least something.
You are relieved, but you do not let your guard down. And in the end, it pays off. You see something unusual, something that you attribute to a trick of the light at first – one of the shadows is facing the wrong way. There is a bow lying right under the flickering lamp, but its shadow is long and sprawls as if it were illuminated from the side.
As soon as you know the shadow is there, it knows that you know. It emerges from the checkered floor in a violent, wet splatter. Your instincts scream at you to jump to the left, and so that is exactly what you do.
A ripple passes where you just stood. Looking closer, you can see the paper on the floor was cut in half. If you were still standing there, you would have probably suffered a similar fate. Which means that you have to keep. Moving.
This time you jump backwards, away from the shadow. Your mind is in overdrive, trying to find a way out of this situation. How do you defeat something that doesn’t even have a body? You try to figure out the solution as you keep moving, a train of torn paper floating in your wake. If you stop for even a moment, it will all be over.
A thought crosses your mind, and you look at the lamp. Even if its invisible limbs can reach anywhere in the room, the shadow is very clearly attached to the lantern itself. If you were to break it, then there wouldn’t be any light left in the room. And without a light, there would also be no shadows.
The next time you dodge its attack, you jump towards the shadow instead of away from it. You’re sure that if it had feelings, indignation would be its primary emotion right now. You swing your bat at the lamp, only for it to splinter into a million pieces centimeters away from your target.
Screw it, you decide, and simply punch the lamp with all your might while the shadow was distracted destroying your weapon. The light flickers one more time before finally dying. Darkness submerges you, and you suddenly find it hard to breathe.
You wait a second. Two. No invisible limbs come to bifurcate you. You celebrate your victory and mourn the loss of your trusted weapon.
Up.
You do not forget your purpose. Stumbling around in the dark, you try to find the exit from this room. It feels like eternity, but you’re finally successful. Instead of being met with a hallway, another special room greets your eyes.
In the middle, there is a mirror. You cautiously approach, having learned your lesson not to trust inanimate objects. You expect an attack but are instead met with an even more peculiar sight.
It’s you. Your reflection, at least. It feels weird to finally have a face to attach to your... self.
Your red eyes have bags under them, almost like you haven’t slept in days. Which would be impossible, because you haven’t even existed for longer than a day. The whole experience of seeing yourself feels very alien to you.
Your hair is red. Part of it is held up in a ponytail, while part came loose after your altercation with a table and a lantern. You fix your hair, getting it out of your face. The last thing you’d want in a battle is to be blinded by your own hair.
The clothes you’re wearing are... impractical. A black skirt and a black jacket over a white shirt. You do not recognize them, as you expect, but what you do recognize is that fighting in these is not very comfortable. The next time you see something more fitting, you’re definitely grabbing that on sight.
You stare at your reflection’s eyes, suddenly overcome with curiosity. You know what your purpose is, but something feels off. Something is missing. You’re overcome with a sudden urge to fake-blast yourself in the head with a finger gun. You promptly comply, making a whooshing sound as you do so. It feels right, but nothing happens.
Up.
Dread crawls down your spine. You snap your head away from the mirror and promptly leave the room. The next thing to greet your sight is stairs. You happily ascend, three meters closer to your ultimate goal.
The Tower groans. The lights flicker. But you now know a little more.