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Description
      The first thing Mitch noticed when he woke up was that he wasn’t in his own room.  Not the fact that his head was throbbing. Not that he had a large gash in his leg.  Not even that the relatively empty, concrete room he was in had several large blood stains in various places.  No, he noticed that he wasn’t in his room.  Where are all my posters? was the first thought that sluggishly crossed his mind, as whatever drug he had been given wore off.

      Then it hit him.  It all hit him at once, actually.  Holding his head with one hand, and his leg with the other, he sat bolt upright and spun around as best he could while sitting.  The room was of average size, and square.  There was no furniture to speak of, unless an air vent could be considered furniture, which was directly above his head.  A single fluorescent light lit the room, and a single steel door was the only exit.  Nearly hyperventilating once he realized that the dark red spots were dried blood, he managed to drag himself to one wall, wincing at the jolt of pain in his leg as he did so.  He leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands, holding his cranium as if it would burst if he did not stop it from doing so.  “Get it together, Mitch,” he whispered to himself, too weak to speak louder even if he wanted to.  He focused on his own breathing, trying to calm himself.

      In… out.

      Inhale…exhale.

      It was only after he had slowed his own breathing that he noticed more breathing.  Not his own.  Someone else’s.  He looked around, even though he was certain that there had been no one else in the room before.  It was more of a reflex than anything else.

      “Hello?” he called out, his voice shaking.  “Who’s there?  Who are you?”  The breathing stopped for a minute.  After several moments, a voice answered Mitch.

      “Ah…that is…not so important.  Not at moment, at least.”  The voice came from the air vent.  The only way Mitch could think to describe the voice was…reptilian.  Beyond that, he couldn’t even guess at anything else.  Not the speaker’s age, gender, nothing.  Mitch continued with his questions.  “Where am I?  No, better yet, why am I here?  And why does it feel like my head is gonna burst?”

      “I promise, all questions answered.  Soon.  But not now.  All important now is that you move,” the voice replied.  The small grate covering the vent swung open, and a small cloth bundle dropped down.  “Here.  Take,” the voice said.  “Supplies you will need.  Outside the door should be metal pole.  Help you walk on bad leg.  Not crutch, but work just fine.” Then there was a small scuffling noise, as if whoever it was had started to move along the vent.  “Oh.  Almost forgot, very important.  Follow lighted hallways.  Stay away from dark places, and don’t open doors.  No doors,” the still faceless voice said, and then it was gone.  Or at least Mitch assumed it was gone, because it didn’t say anything else after that.
      After a few moments alone, Mitch realized that his head had stopped throbbing.  There was still some residual pain, sure, but it was manageable.  He crawled over to the bundle and opened it.  Inside was some gauze, a note, and a few pieces of stale bread.  Realizing how ravenous he was, Mitch shoved a piece of bread into his mouth as he read the note.  The handwriting was small and neat, very easy to read:


      Mitchell:
       If you’re reading this, it means Vlad found you before you started moving.  Be grateful for that.  I’ll be brief:  you are in serious trouble here.  You are in a large building.  There are others in there with you, some of which may be able to help you.  But there are other others in there, too.  Avoid them.  They will not hesitate to harm you.  Make your way to the end.  It shouldn’t be too difficult if you follow the hallways marked with a blue line in the center.

       -Beauregard

      P.S. Leave locked doors locked.  Avoid dark rooms.  There are a few rooms that are safe; you will know them when you see them.


      Mitch swallowed his mushy lump of bread.  Now he had another faceless friend.  Not even a voice with this one.  He un-wrapped the roll of gauze and began to bandage the gash in his leg.

      He tied it as best he could, and stood up.  He tested it and found that the pain had subsided a little.  Pocketing the note, he stared at the other slice of bread for a few moments.  Deciding that sticking it in his pocket would be both uncomfortable and silly, he stuck it in his mouth instead, and started chewing.  He gave the room one last look over and opened the door.  The hallway was big.  Big enough for a car to easily drive through.  There were doors on either side every couple yards or so, and a set of big doors about halfway down that could divide the hall way in two if there were closed.  The walls were concrete, like the room, but were much dirtier, and everything was dimly lit.

      He grabbed the metal pole that was leaning against one wall, like “Vlad” had said it would.  Using it to move along at an odd mix of hopping and walking, he started to make his way down the hallway.

      * * *


      “…So what I’m saying is, it’s always Mondays, isn’t it?” said Jasper.

      “Hmm?” answered Andrew.  “Oh, yeah, I guess it is always Mondays.” He hadn’t been listening all that closely to what Jasper had been saying.  He had been lost in his own inner, private ranting.  Maybe it hadn’t been ranting.  He couldn’t remember now.  Oh well.  It didn’t matter.  Jasper continued.  “So…what do you think?”

      “About all this?” Andrew motioned with his hands at the hallway.

      “Yeah, that,” Jasper said, trying to keep up with Andrew as he walked faster.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that Andrew was doing it on purpose.  “I think they need an interior decorator,” Andrew said, and brushed a few strands of blonde hair out of his eye.

      “Oh, haw haw, Mr. Stoic made a joke,” Jasper said, finally catching up with the other man.

      “Yeah, I do that.”

      Jasper was about to say something, but thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.  He turned to look, but there was nothing.  Just another shadow, he thought, and nervously turned back to look where he was going.  The two of them came to a three way intersection of halls.  The left was lit, the right dark.  “Any preference?” asked Andrew.

      “How ‘bout some dark this time?” Jasper answered.

      “Eh.  Sure,” Andrew said, and turned the corner into the dark hallway.  He stopped.

      “What are-,” Jasper began, but then he saw what made Andrew stop.  In front of them, not ten feet ahead, was a man that stood with his back facing them.  His skin was pale and dirty, and his hair came down to the middle of his back.  The only thing he wore was a pair of old, tattered pants.  His breathing was quick, and came in ragged gasps.

      “Hey!” Jasper said, smiling and taking several steps forward.  “Are you alright?  Well, I mean, alright as can be, considering where we are.”  The man didn’t answer, but slowly turned around, still breathing like he was struggling for air.  Now that he was facing the two other men, they could see that his hair also completely covered his eyes.  He began to walk towards them, his steps slow and heavy.  “Can’t you hear me?  Are you alright?” Jasper asked again, but the smile was gone from his face.

      “What do you think is wrong?” Andrew whispered.  Jasper was about to respond, but was interrupted when the man suddenly lunged forward, and grabbed Jasper by the throat.  He slammed him against the wall, and slid him up as far as his arm would allow.  Jasper struggled, but the stranger’s grip was like stone.  Andrew jumped on the man, trying to force him to release his death grip on Jasper’s neck.

      Jasper’s attacker looked into his victim’s eyes, like he was looking at Jasper’s very soul.  Although he couldn’t see the stranger’s eyes, he could tell they were on him. Their eyes remained locked for several seconds.  The monster cocked his head to one and side and smiled, revealing a mouth full of hideously large, pointed teeth.  He released his grip, letting Japer fall to the floor, gasping for breath and rubbing his throat.  Andrew continued his attack on the man, now futilely trying to get him down to the ground.  The mysterious man grabbed Andrew and flung him into one wall, stunning him.

      “I would kill both of you now,” the stranger said, his voice a hoarse whisper.  “But I think it will be more interesting to let you run through this little maze.  You may not realize it, but you’re changing.  Changing in ways you probably never thought in the realm of reality.  When those changes are complete, you will be much more entertaining.  And useful.”

      He turned back to the dark hallway, and started to walk.  “Count on seeing me again,” he said.  Once he was a fair distance away, the previously dark hallway lit up. Jasper stopped rubbing his throat, and sat up, shaking.  “Do you think that was their interior decorator?” he asked.  Andrew said nothing, but gave Jasper a nasty look.

      * * *

      Ada walked along one side of the hallway, letting her fingertips brush the smooth, cool wall.  What she really wanted to do was just lay down on the floor, and try to cool down.  It felt like her entire body was burning, like she had a bad fever.  It had been steadily getting worse ever since she set out to find an exit, and at one point she thought she might have somehow gotten an infection lying on the dirty floor of that room.  But she wasn’t worried.  She wasn’t ever really worried.  Not even when she had heard those noises coming from the air vents.

      But she couldn’t lie down.  She needed to find the way out.  And fast.  She didn’t know how long she would last.  The heat was so bad it was already getting hard to keep herself alert.  She reached back with her free hand and scratched one of her shoulders.  That itch had been getting worse, too.

      * * *

      Mitch came to the turn in the hallway, and stopped just short of the corner.
“Lemme guess,” he said.  “More dim grey?” He hopped around the corner.  “Oh, look at that, I guessed right!”

      He sighed, and continued down the hall.  He pushed against his teeth with his tongue.  Damn, they were getting sore.

      “Run!” came a voice from over his head.

      “What?” Mitch said, beginning to hop faster.
      “Run, run!  Dark is coming!  Must not see you!” the voice continued.  What was his name again? Mitch thought.  Glad?  Sad?  No, no, it was…

      “Faster, faster!  Room up ahead!  Empty!  Go in and close door!” the voice said.  Vlad.  That’s it, Mitch continued his thought.   He started to run, even though it sent new waves of pain up his leg.  The door was feet away.  No sooner had Mitch got inside and closed the door, than the lights in the hallway went out.  So did those in the room.  “No sound,” Vlad whispered from the air vent.  Footsteps reached Mitch’s ears.  They were heavy, and slow.  There was a small window in the door, and even though everything was in nearly complete darkness, Mitch could see a man shaped shadow pass in front of the door.  Mitch waited until the sound of the footsteps faded, then let out a sigh of relief.  Suddenly, the footsteps returned, this time fast.  The shadow also returned, but stayed in front of the door for several seconds this time.  Seemingly satisfied, it departed again.  What was most likely minutes later, but seemed much longer to Mitch, the lights came back on and Vlad spoke.  “Gone now.  Safe to continue,” he said.

      “What…was…that?” Mitch asked, still a little shaken by the sheer creepiness of the encounter.

      “Told you,” Vlad replied.  “Dark.”

      “You mean his -its- name is Dark?” Mitch asked.

      “That what he calls self,” Vlad answered.  “You should go now.  Find end.”

      And then Vlad left Mitch alone again.  Or maybe not.  Now that he thought about, Vlad had been able to warn Mitch about “Dark” pretty quickly.  Perhaps Vlad was following him along in the air vents.  Not that it mattered.  Vlad probably wouldn’t answer any direct questions for the moment, anyway.

      * * *

      “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…,” Jasper began.

      “Don’t,” Andrew said, the first word he’d said since their encounter with ‘Mr. Strangle’, as Jasper had called him.

      “What, you don’t like singing?” Jasper asked.

      Andrew said nothing, and just grumbled.  Jasper thought it best to keep his mouth shut.  So he did.  They walked in silence for a while, before coming to another three way intersection of hallways that formed a ‘T’.

      Jasper was about to make a joke about how their last stop at an intersection like this had turned out, but heard whispering.  “You say somethin’?” he asked Andrew.

      “No.”  Andrew obviously didn’t want to be bothered right now.  Probably thinking about which direction to take.  The whispering still bothered him though.

Description
      The first thing Mitch noticed when he woke up was that he wasn’t in his own room.  Not the fact that his head was throbbing. Not that he had a large gash in his leg.  Not even that the relatively empty, concrete room he was in had several large blood stains in various places.  No, he noticed that he wasn’t in his room.  Where are all my posters? was the first thought that sluggishly crossed his mind, as whatever drug he had been given wore off.

      Then it hit him.  It all hit him at once, actually.  Holding his head with one hand, and his leg with the other, he sat bolt upright and spun around as best he could while sitting.  The room was of average size, and square.  There was no furniture to speak of, unless an air vent could be considered furniture, which was directly above his head.  A single fluorescent light lit the room, and a single steel door was the only exit.  Nearly hyperventilating once he realized that the dark red spots were dried blood, he managed to drag himself to one wall, wincing at the jolt of pain in his leg as he did so.  He leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands, holding his cranium as if it would burst if he did not stop it from doing so.  “Get it together, Mitch,” he whispered to himself, too weak to speak louder even if he wanted to.  He focused on his own breathing, trying to calm himself.

      In… out.

      Inhale…exhale.

      It was only after he had slowed his own breathing that he noticed more breathing.  Not his own.  Someone else’s.  He looked around, even though he was certain that there had been no one else in the room before.  It was more of a reflex than anything else.

      “Hello?” he called out, his voice shaking.  “Who’s there?  Who are you?”  The breathing stopped for a minute.  After several moments, a voice answered Mitch.

      “Ah…that is…not so important.  Not at moment, at least.”  The voice came from the air vent.  The only way Mitch could think to describe the voice was…reptilian.  Beyond that, he couldn’t even guess at anything else.  Not the speaker’s age, gender, nothing.  Mitch continued with his questions.  “Where am I?  No, better yet, why am I here?  And why does it feel like my head is gonna burst?”

      “I promise, all questions answered.  Soon.  But not now.  All important now is that you move,” the voice replied.  The small grate covering the vent swung open, and a small cloth bundle dropped down.  “Here.  Take,” the voice said.  “Supplies you will need.  Outside the door should be metal pole.  Help you walk on bad leg.  Not crutch, but work just fine.” Then there was a small scuffling noise, as if whoever it was had started to move along the vent.  “Oh.  Almost forgot, very important.  Follow lighted hallways.  Stay away from dark places, and don’t open doors.  No doors,” the still faceless voice said, and then it was gone.  Or at least Mitch assumed it was gone, because it didn’t say anything else after that.
      After a few moments alone, Mitch realized that his head had stopped throbbing.  There was still some residual pain, sure, but it was manageable.  He crawled over to the bundle and opened it.  Inside was some gauze, a note, and a few pieces of stale bread.  Realizing how ravenous he was, Mitch shoved a piece of bread into his mouth as he read the note.  The handwriting was small and neat, very easy to read:


      Mitchell:
       If you’re reading this, it means Vlad found you before you started moving.  Be grateful for that.  I’ll be brief:  you are in serious trouble here.  You are in a large building.  There are others in there with you, some of which may be able to help you.  But there are other others in there, too.  Avoid them.  They will not hesitate to harm you.  Make your way to the end.  It shouldn’t be too difficult if you follow the hallways marked with a blue line in the center.

       -Beauregard

      P.S. Leave locked doors locked.  Avoid dark rooms.  There are a few rooms that are safe; you will know them when you see them.


      Mitch swallowed his mushy lump of bread.  Now he had another faceless friend.  Not even a voice with this one.  He un-wrapped the roll of gauze and began to bandage the gash in his leg.

      He tied it as best he could, and stood up.  He tested it and found that the pain had subsided a little.  Pocketing the note, he stared at the other slice of bread for a few moments.  Deciding that sticking it in his pocket would be both uncomfortable and silly, he stuck it in his mouth instead, and started chewing.  He gave the room one last look over and opened the door.  The hallway was big.  Big enough for a car to easily drive through.  There were doors on either side every couple yards or so, and a set of big doors about halfway down that could divide the hall way in two if there were closed.  The walls were concrete, like the room, but were much dirtier, and everything was dimly lit.

      He grabbed the metal pole that was leaning against one wall, like “Vlad” had said it would.  Using it to move along at an odd mix of hopping and walking, he started to make his way down the hallway.

      * * *


      “…So what I’m saying is, it’s always Mondays, isn’t it?” said Jasper.

      “Hmm?” answered Andrew.  “Oh, yeah, I guess it is always Mondays.” He hadn’t been listening all that closely to what Jasper had been saying.  He had been lost in his own inner, private ranting.  Maybe it hadn’t been ranting.  He couldn’t remember now.  Oh well.  It didn’t matter.  Jasper continued.  “So…what do you think?”

      “About all this?” Andrew motioned with his hands at the hallway.

      “Yeah, that,” Jasper said, trying to keep up with Andrew as he walked faster.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that Andrew was doing it on purpose.  “I think they need an interior decorator,” Andrew said, and brushed a few strands of blonde hair out of his eye.

      “Oh, haw haw, Mr. Stoic made a joke,” Jasper said, finally catching up with the other man.

      “Yeah, I do that.”

      Jasper was about to say something, but thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.  He turned to look, but there was nothing.  Just another shadow, he thought, and nervously turned back to look where he was going.  The two of them came to a three way intersection of halls.  The left was lit, the right dark.  “Any preference?” asked Andrew.

      “How ‘bout some dark this time?” Jasper answered.

      “Eh.  Sure,” Andrew said, and turned the corner into the dark hallway.  He stopped.

      “What are-,” Jasper began, but then he saw what made Andrew stop.  In front of them, not ten feet ahead, was a man that stood with his back facing them.  His skin was pale and dirty, and his hair came down to the middle of his back.  The only thing he wore was a pair of old, tattered pants.  His breathing was quick, and came in ragged gasps.

      “Hey!” Jasper said, smiling and taking several steps forward.  “Are you alright?  Well, I mean, alright as can be, considering where we are.”  The man didn’t answer, but slowly turned around, still breathing like he was struggling for air.  Now that he was facing the two other men, they could see that his hair also completely covered his eyes.  He began to walk towards them, his steps slow and heavy.  “Can’t you hear me?  Are you alright?” Jasper asked again, but the smile was gone from his face.

      “What do you think is wrong?” Andrew whispered.  Jasper was about to respond, but was interrupted when the man suddenly lunged forward, and grabbed Jasper by the throat.  He slammed him against the wall, and slid him up as far as his arm would allow.  Jasper struggled, but the stranger’s grip was like stone.  Andrew jumped on the man, trying to force him to release his death grip on Jasper’s neck.

      Jasper’s attacker looked into his victim’s eyes, like he was looking at Jasper’s very soul.  Although he couldn’t see the stranger’s eyes, he could tell they were on him. Their eyes remained locked for several seconds.  The monster cocked his head to one and side and smiled, revealing a mouth full of hideously large, pointed teeth.  He released his grip, letting Japer fall to the floor, gasping for breath and rubbing his throat.  Andrew continued his attack on the man, now futilely trying to get him down to the ground.  The mysterious man grabbed Andrew and flung him into one wall, stunning him.

      “I would kill both of you now,” the stranger said, his voice a hoarse whisper.  “But I think it will be more interesting to let you run through this little maze.  You may not realize it, but you’re changing.  Changing in ways you probably never thought in the realm of reality.  When those changes are complete, you will be much more entertaining.  And useful.”

      He turned back to the dark hallway, and started to walk.  “Count on seeing me again,” he said.  Once he was a fair distance away, the previously dark hallway lit up. Jasper stopped rubbing his throat, and sat up, shaking.  “Do you think that was their interior decorator?” he asked.  Andrew said nothing, but gave Jasper a nasty look.

      * * *

      Ada walked along one side of the hallway, letting her fingertips brush the smooth, cool wall.  What she really wanted to do was just lay down on the floor, and try to cool down.  It felt like her entire body was burning, like she had a bad fever.  It had been steadily getting worse ever since she set out to find an exit, and at one point she thought she might have somehow gotten an infection lying on the dirty floor of that room.  But she wasn’t worried.  She wasn’t ever really worried.  Not even when she had heard those noises coming from the air vents.

      But she couldn’t lie down.  She needed to find the way out.  And fast.  She didn’t know how long she would last.  The heat was so bad it was already getting hard to keep herself alert.  She reached back with her free hand and scratched one of her shoulders.  That itch had been getting worse, too.

      * * *

      Mitch came to the turn in the hallway, and stopped just short of the corner.
“Lemme guess,” he said.  “More dim grey?” He hopped around the corner.  “Oh, look at that, I guessed right!”

      He sighed, and continued down the hall.  He pushed against his teeth with his tongue.  Damn, they were getting sore.

      “Run!” came a voice from over his head.

      “What?” Mitch said, beginning to hop faster.
      “Run, run!  Dark is coming!  Must not see you!” the voice continued.  What was his name again? Mitch thought.  Glad?  Sad?  No, no, it was…

      “Faster, faster!  Room up ahead!  Empty!  Go in and close door!” the voice said.  Vlad.  That’s it, Mitch continued his thought.   He started to run, even though it sent new waves of pain up his leg.  The door was feet away.  No sooner had Mitch got inside and closed the door, than the lights in the hallway went out.  So did those in the room.  “No sound,” Vlad whispered from the air vent.  Footsteps reached Mitch’s ears.  They were heavy, and slow.  There was a small window in the door, and even though everything was in nearly complete darkness, Mitch could see a man shaped shadow pass in front of the door.  Mitch waited until the sound of the footsteps faded, then let out a sigh of relief.  Suddenly, the footsteps returned, this time fast.  The shadow also returned, but stayed in front of the door for several seconds this time.  Seemingly satisfied, it departed again.  What was most likely minutes later, but seemed much longer to Mitch, the lights came back on and Vlad spoke.  “Gone now.  Safe to continue,” he said.

      “What…was…that?” Mitch asked, still a little shaken by the sheer creepiness of the encounter.

      “Told you,” Vlad replied.  “Dark.”

      “You mean his -its- name is Dark?” Mitch asked.

      “That what he calls self,” Vlad answered.  “You should go now.  Find end.”

      And then Vlad left Mitch alone again.  Or maybe not.  Now that he thought about, Vlad had been able to warn Mitch about “Dark” pretty quickly.  Perhaps Vlad was following him along in the air vents.  Not that it mattered.  Vlad probably wouldn’t answer any direct questions for the moment, anyway.

      * * *

      “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…,” Jasper began.

      “Don’t,” Andrew said, the first word he’d said since their encounter with ‘Mr. Strangle’, as Jasper had called him.

      “What, you don’t like singing?” Jasper asked.

      Andrew said nothing, and just grumbled.  Jasper thought it best to keep his mouth shut.  So he did.  They walked in silence for a while, before coming to another three way intersection of hallways that formed a ‘T’.

      Jasper was about to make a joke about how their last stop at an intersection like this had turned out, but heard whispering.  “You say somethin’?” he asked Andrew.

      “No.”  Andrew obviously didn’t want to be bothered right now.  Probably thinking about which direction to take.  The whispering still bothered him though.