It was a Friday afternoon; Wall and Bob were sprawled on the worn, comfortable couch in Shunk’s living room, their eyes glued to the vibrant screen of the old Nintendo 64 as Bob maneuvered Mario through the colourful, pixelated world of Super Mario 64. The room was filled with the familiar sound of cheerful chimes and distant echoes of Bowser’s menacing laughter. Shunk lounged beside Wall, his gaze flickering between the game and his friends, while Wall rose from the couch, scratching his bald head in thought.
“Can we go to the mall? There are like barely any snacks in here,” Wall exclaimed as he drifted toward the kitchen, hoping to find some hidden treasures in the pantry.
Shunk turned his head slightly, wearing a disappointed expression. “It’s like 10, why would the mall be open?” he replied, attempting to keep the conversation light, but his voice carried a hint of annoyance.
Wall let out a dramatic sigh and shuffled over to the fridge, swinging the door open to grab a can of Kola. “I thought malls were twenty-four-seven,” he muttered quietly, an air of disappointment hanging in his voice. He dropped back onto the couch, placing his feet up on the cluttered coffee table, the surface decorated with snack wrappers and abandoned drink cans.
“We could go to the eleven-seven near here; it’s only a 4-minute drive, and Bob has the keys,” Wall suggested, hoping to spark some enthusiasm.
Bob sat on the floor, utterly engrossed in the game, his fingers dancing expertly across the controller. He looked frozen in concentration, the world around him fading as Mario climbed and jumped. “Nope, we can go to eleven-seven after I beat Bowser,” he replied, completely absorbed in the challenge at hand.
The sound of the Kola lid popping off echoed through the room, followed by the hissing rush of carbonated bubbles escaping. “Aw man,” Shunk rolled his eyes, realising the futility of his friends’ insistence.
The room fell into a surprisingly calm silence, filled only with the iconic sound effects of Super Mario 64. As Bob grumbled in frustration over an obstacle he could not overcome, Shunk’s voice broke the stillness. “Do a backward long jump, did you forget to?”
Bob grumbled, finally breaking from his trance and attempted the manoeuvre. “Have you guys ever wondered what it would be like to do a glitch in real life?” Bob’s voice sliced through the quiet, his tone contemplative.
“Like to no-clip?”
Wall replied, with a confused face emerging from him.
“Yeah”
Bob responded quietly
Before their words could truly settle, the room suddenly began to shake, the thrumming energy building around them. The screen went black as Super Mario 64 cut off abruptly, and in a frantic rush, their surrounding furniture began to levitate towards the ceiling, defying gravity as the boys found themselves floating alongside it. The chaotic noises grew louder before fading into a hushed whisper, the flickering lights casting rapid shadows until they spotted a pulsating purple orb materialising in the centre of the living room.
Panic set in, and their frantic yells mixed with the sound of shifting air. Just as quickly as the orb appeared, a cloud of smoke enveloped them, and when it dissipated, they found themselves lying on a damp, moist carpet in an entirely different room painted in a sickly shade of yellow. They must be in the…
The three scrambled to their feet, blinking in disbelief as they surveyed their surroundings. The walls stretched endlessly, forming a labyrinth of yellow wallpaper, each corner lost in the haze of dim fluorescent lighting. An unsettling knocking echoed intermittently, resembling a faint tap on a distant door, sending shivers down their spines. Wall, overwhelmed by fear, began to scream, hastily clawing at the walls as he desperately aimed for the ceiling, looking for an escape route.
Shunk emptied his pockets onto the ground, revealing only a crumpled piece of paper and a crumby candy wrapper, then glanced at Bob, who also began rummaging through his own pockets. Bob pulled out a set of keys and a bit of lint, then knelt down, attempting to scrape the wall with the sharp end of the keys. But to his astonishment, the wall seemed to regenerate itself, smoothing over the marks he had made. “Strange,” Bob muttered in bewilderment, glancing at Shunk.
Wall continued to flail in a fury of panic until he miss-stepped and found himself slipping into a wall beside him, a look of pure shock crossing his face as he phased through it. “Wall phased through the wall!” Shunk noticed, nudging Bob urgently. “We should do the same thing!”
Bob hesitated, his expression troubled. “I don’t think we need to do that; there could be an exit or someone who knows how to leave this area.”
With a sigh of frustration, Shunk grabbed Bob by the wrist and said, “Come on!” he urged, and together they leapt into the wall.
Level 1
The Underground Car Park
They burst forth into a dimly lit, abandoned underground parking garage, the air thick with dampness and the smell of mildew. Rubbish littered the ground, and the harsh yellow and green lights buzzed weakly above them, flickering erratically in certain areas. Shunk and Bob found Wall standing like a statue, his expression frozen in a mix of horror and disbelief.
“Wall?” Shunk called out, his voice echoing against the cold concrete walls.
Suddenly, the lights flicked off, plunging them into darkness, and in the dimness, they saw a horrifying sight: multiple faces with hollow eyes and jagged, blood-like grins illuminated against the darkness, floating ominously in mid-air.
In sheer shock, the three stood immobile, their hearts racing, until Wall broke the tension by sprinting down a corridor where the lights still shone in a comforting orange hue. “Wall! Slow down! You don’t even know where you’re heading!” Bob shouted, gripping Shunk’s wrist tighter as they bolted after their friend.
Wall dashed around sharp corners, his fear propelling him forward until he suddenly halted in place.
Shunk and Bob skidded to a stop right behind him as they rounded the tightly curved corner, only to come face-to-face with a massive creature that resembled a gaunt, fur-less dog, its ribs visible as if it had not eaten in weeks. Long strands of dark, matted hair hung from its head, and its eyes looked hauntingly human.
The three boys stood petrified, locked in a gaze with the creature as it emitted a heart-wrenching, dog-like whine before scampering off into the shadows. Bob released Shunk’s wrist, his heart pounding in his chest as he began to regain his composure. “Even though we’ve been here for like four minutes, we seem pretty good at this!” he exclaimed, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice.
Meanwhile, Wall remained frozen, paralysed by fear until he unwittingly slipped into a cracked wall nearby, vanishing through it.
“Another teleport!? Why can’t we stay here?! You know Wall is stupid!” Shunk lamented, his voice rising in frustration as he began to rant about their lack of teamwork.
“Shunk, this is an entirely new area we just got into, and we are about to leave! Plus, big dogs and white glowing smiles are chasing after us! What are you even trying to find?!” Bob pleaded, gripping Shunk’s wrist again as if it were a lifeline and bolted through the cracked wall.
Level 16
The Abandoned Mental Asylum
Bob and Shunk phase through a wall to find themselves in an eerie, abandoned mental asylum. The layout resembles a hospital, with flickering lights and an unnervingly low ceiling. Releasing Shunk’s wrist, Bob surveys their surroundings. “Now how do we even get out of here?” he asks, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice.
The trio scans the dimly lit space until their eyes land on a small counter displaying a drink labelled ‘Almond Water.’ “Ew, what even is that?” Wall remarks, squinting at the bottle. Next to it lies a note, and Wall picks it up to read aloud:
“Dear guests of this hospital!
We have been waiting specifically for you! We heard you contracted a few diseases (from Dan), so we are here to help! That’s right, Shunk, Bob, and Wall! Here is a drink so you don’t lose your sanity!
From ‘The Faced Ones!’
P.S. The route to our small little medical room is two turns to the right and one turn to the left! Hope to see you there!”
A heavy silence hangs in the air until Wall finally speaks. “Well, uh, it seems like they’ve been waiting for us, um…” Shunk glances sceptically at the bottle. “Well, the little medical group has also supplied us with Almond Water? And it says it might turn us crazy, so should we all have a small sip?”
Bob takes a tentative sip and passes the bottle to Shunk, who also takes a small sip before handing it off to Wall. In one gulp, Wall drinks down the entire bottle. “What are you doing?!” Shouts Shunk in disbelief. “I was just a little thirsty from running around,” Wall responds quietly, almost sheepishly. Shunk groans, frustrated, before snatching the note and heading toward the hallway on the right, the others trailing behind.
The three navigate through narrow, dim hallways, barely lit by the flickering lights above. An unsettling silence envelops them, broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the occasional buzz of fluorescent lights. The air carries a scent reminiscent of blood, and as they pass empty, dimly lit office rooms, they notice the pristine tiled floors marred by scattered rubbish and bins. The few rooms that show flickering light feel hauntingly empty, their interiors filled with mirrors, faded posters, or old medical beds.
Suddenly, they spot a room glowing with a bright orange light. Curiosity piqued, they step inside to find three people lounging on a couch, engrossed in a television show, while another individual engages in a phone conversation. “Hello?” Bob calls out softly. The group turns their attention to the newcomers. “Oh right!” an elderly man exclaims, snapping his fingers. “Come, take a seat.” He beckons them toward a dimly lit room adjacent to the break room.
In the near-dark room, a single medical bed occupies the upper left corner, along with a sink. “Just sit down here, and I’ll be back with some medical supplies. Do not touch anything,” the old man instructs. The three boys, feeling cramped, clamber onto the medical bed. Shunk removes his glasses to clean them, commenting, “Wow, he sounded pretty serious there.” Wall responds in a barely audible voice, “Yeah, with him talking about not touching anything.”
Nineteen minutes stretch by in silence, broken only by the orange glow from the break room and the hum of the air conditioner. “I’m tired of sitting here squished. It’s been like 20 minutes!” Wall exclaims, leaping from his seat. In his excitement, he accidentally steps on a pair of forceps, causing him to fall and clip through the floor. “WHAT?!” Shunk yells, rushing toward the spot where Wall had just stood. In his haste, he slips on a pair of scissors and tumbles through the floor.
In a sense of calm panic, Bob watches as an unsettling feeling creeps over him. The orange light begins to flash red, transforming the atmosphere, accompanied by the sound of heavy stomping growing louder. Just then, Bob is jolted from his chair, landing awkwardly on a pair of tweezers, leading him to vanish as well.
Level 268
Brutally Cramped
After falling through the floor, they find themselves on a concrete surface, forcing them to crouch to avoid bumping their heads into the low ceiling. “Where are we exactly?” Bob groans, rubbing his head. “I can barely walk! It’s like a more open vent here!” Shunk complains, pushing past Bob and walking forward. “Guys, wait up!” Wall calls out, hurrying to catch up with Shunk.
Around them, water leaks cascade down the concrete walls, the dim lighting reminiscent of a cave mine, while shattered glass doors hint at past destruction. “Hey, what’s in here?” Wall exclaims, approaching one of the glass doors, pristine and uncracked. Now free from the need to kneel, he peers in, spotting an abandoned play place illuminated only by a strange painting adorning one wall.
Bob seizes Wall’s wrist and tugs him away. “We can’t just stand around looking through doors, Wall! We need to find a way out! Who knows what could be lurking here!” Wall rolls his eyes but keeps pace with Shunk and Bob.
“It’s all just dead ends! Dead ends! Dead ends and DEAD!” Shunk cuts himself off as he arrives at a heavy steel door. The door, rusted and worn, looms ominously before them, and all they can glimpse beyond it is an endless abyss filled with cold concrete walls. The air is thick with the scent of olive oil, and the only sound that pierces the silence is the frantic beat of their hearts as they stare into the darkness of the hallway.
“What do you think is down there?” Wall asks, leaning cautiously into the shadowy corridor.
“I mean, the door is open…” Shunk mumbles to himself, retreating a step or two.
“What’s frightening you, man?” Bob queries, his gaze darting around the dimly lit space.
“I don’t know, it just gives me the heebie-jeebies!” Shunk admits, his voice trembling slightly.
Wall nods in agreement, glancing into the ominous void. “Yeah, it does look a little claustrophobic in there, especially since we don’t know what’s down there.”
Bob clenches his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as they search for any sign of an exit. “I—I mean, have you checked everywhere, Shunk?” His voice shakes, fear creeping in at the thought of being trapped.
Shunk takes a deep breath, the quiet voice of uncertainty slipping out occasionally, stuttering on words. “Yeah, I have checked everything and everywhere! I don’t know where a way out could be.”
Suddenly, Bob spots something among the clutter—he kneels behind an old, rusted rocking chair that seems to have been rotting for centuries. “Hey, Wall and Shunk, look what I found!” Wall says, attempting to control his excitement.
Shunk and Wall rush to his side, peering at the small object in Bob’s hands. “Hey, I’ve seen one of these before!” Wall exclaims, his excitement bubbling over as he jumps up and down, only to bump his head against the low ceiling. “Ouch! Anyway, that’s the only Japanese exclusive Gameboy that has a backlit display! So, it works like a light source in a way!”
Shunk snatches the Gameboy and directs its light into the hallway, suddenly chilled by the thought of what might await them. Bob steps closer, trying to reassure him. “It’s okay, dude. We’re ALL shaking in fear here, and we have a getaway if something crawls at us.”
Taking a deep breath, Shunk turns on the Gameboy light, staring intently into the abyss.
As he flicks it on, a puff of smoke engulfs him, and he vanishes. “SHUNK?! WHERE DID HE GO???” Wall yells, panic flooding his voice, as if an impending disaster were looming overhead. He snatches the Gameboy light and turns it on—only to experience the same fate as Shunk, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.
Bob approaches the Gameboy light hesitantly. “Augh, FINEE,” he mutters, steeling himself. He turns on the light, sees a puff of smoke, and then…
Level 25
Out Of Order
He opens his eyes, finding the Gameboy light no longer in his hand. Instead, he sees an old arcade area that evokes memories of the 80s, filled with people playing arcade machines and wandering about, their faces mysteriously missing. Despite their unsettling appearance, they carry a relaxed vibe as they meander through different rooms brimming with arcade games, the only illumination emanating from the brightly lit screens of the machines.
Wall is sitting on the ground when Bob approaches. “Why are you on the ground, Wall?” he asks.
“My legs were tired from all that running,” Wall replies.
Bob rolled his eyes. “Well, where’s Shunk?”
Wall stands up and points at Shunk, who is absorbed in playing Gorilla’s Crocs 3 on an arcade machine. As they make their way over, a strong scent of Goke or Flexi wafts through the air.
“What happened to trying to find an exit?” Bob leans against a nearby arcade machine, his tone incredulous.
“Why go home if we have all we need right here? Free food, free games, and some areas are so dark we could sleep here!” Shunk says, his gaze glued to the screen.
Bob shrugs and turns back to Wall. “Wouldn’t you be thrilled and excited in these areas?”
“Eh, I’m more of a console guy,” Wall responds.
“Well, let’s make the most of this place until Shunk gets bored,” Wall suggests.
Bob sighs. “Where to first?”
Wall scratches his chin, which isn’t there. “I saw a vending machine over by that staff-only room,” he says, pointing. They walk closer and soon realize the machine is stocked solely with almond water.
“One coin!?” Bob exclaims, dropping to his knees to search the ground for loose change as if he’s lost his glasses. He stands up and looks at Wall, who’s rummaging through a small purse that looks like a coin pouch.
“Where did you find that?” Bob asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I just found it on top of the vending machine. Might keep it for later,” Wall replies, taking out a one-dollar coin and slipping the purse into his pocket.
He inserts the coin, and without needing any further input, the vending machine dispenses a bottle of almond water. The bottle has a cheap, plastic feel as Wall opens it and notices the clear white liquid inside.
“Bottom’s up!” Wall cheers, taking a big swig and finishing the entire bottle in one go.
“Wow, you seem thirsty,” Bob observes.
“Yeah, we haven’t drunk anything in the past, like, what? Three hours?” Wall says, wiping his mouth.
Bob threw his head back as if a gust of wind had blown into his face. “Wow, it has been a while. I guess a small drink won’t hurt.”
Wall pulls out his purse again, trying to feel around for a coin while balancing the empty almond bottle in his hand. He accidentally drops the bottle, and to his surprise, it slips straight into the purse.
“Bob,” Wall calls, catching Bob’s attention from his fascination with the faceless players at the arcade machines.
“What?”
Wall’s eyes widen as he peers into the purse. “I think this purse is endless.”
Bob raises both eyebrows, surprised. “What the heck.” He grabs the purse from Wall’s hand and peers inside, discovering an unending void.
“Maybe it works like, if you think of something, it becomes real?” Bob suggests as he digs his hand deeper into the purse, his arm seemingly disappearing into its depths.
He concentrates on wanting more almond water, and feels it gravitates towards his hand as if summoned. Pulling out a bottle, he sees it’s the same one Wall had consumed earlier. Bob rolls his eyes and snatches a coin from the purse, returning it to Wall.
Bob then presses a random number on the keypad, expecting almond water to dispense regardless. But just as he goes to insert a coin, the almond water falls from the vending machine and lands in the slot of the vending machine.
“Hm, one coin and the rest are free. How handy,” Wall says, retrieving it from the machine and handing it to Bob.
Bob takes another almond water and drinks it, tasting a hint of flavour. He aims for a bin two arcade machines away and makes the shot, raising his hand for a high five.
Wall smacks his hand. “Awesome sauce,” he says. “Anyway, I think we should get one more for Shunk and an extra one just to be safe.”
Bob grabs two almond waters. “Here, put these in your infinite purse. It’ll come in handy later.” Wall opens the purse and drops in the almond waters. When Bob attempts to dispense a third one, it becomes stuck in the machine.
“Ugh,” Wall grunts, pulling and shaking the vending machine fruitlessly.
After struggling for a few moments, the machine slips from his grasp, and he tumbles into the staff-only room.
“Uhhhh Bob?” Wall calls as he rises from the ground.
Bob approaches Wall. “What?”
As Wall opens the door, they are greeted by a broken arcade machine with coins slowly spilling out and a grinding noise that makes them wince. The scent of vomit fills the air as they step further inside, revealing a torn screen and exposed, sparking wires. They exchange worried glances, taking in the peeling paint and water leaking from the ceiling. “We should tell Shunk about this,” says Bob as he strides out of the staff room, his heart racing with urgency, and dashes down the dimly lit corridor.
The two race toward Shunk, who is deeply engrossed in a game of Hack-Man, his fingers expertly navigating the joystick and buttons. “Shunk, you must come see this! This place isn’t the best to stay in!” Bob urges, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Just a second,” Shunk replies, glancing up only briefly as his fingers fly over the arcade machine in a blur, pressing multiple buttons and flinging the joystick around with precision. Bob rolls his eyes and sighs in exasperation, grabbing Shunk’s wrist firmly and pulling him along toward the staff-only room beside the flickering vending machine. Wall hurries alongside them, a mix of concern and curiosity etched on his face. “Hey, I wasn’t finished!” Shunk protests, clenching his fist in frustration and crossing his arms, his competitive spirit flaring.
They finally burst into the staff-only room, panting from their sprint, and reveal the battered arcade machine that has caught their attention. Bob releases Shunk’s wrist, and Shunk’s eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in the sight. “WHAT?!” he shrieks, his voice echoing off the walls as he instinctively covers his mouth with both hands, his eyebrows shooting up in shock. “Yeah, we should find an exit before we know what will happen to us now that we’ve found this out,” Wall suggests, a note of urgency in his voice. He bolts out of the staff-only room, and Bob and Shunk scramble after him, their adrenaline pumping.
Just as Bob and Wall prepare to race away, Shunk’s gaze catches on an arcade machine he has yet to explore. “Hey guys, wait up!” he calls out, his excitement evident. Bob and Wall screech to a halt, turning back to see Shunk standing captivated in front of a machine featuring vibrant, abstract artwork, its single button glowing enticingly in the centre.
The three gather around the arcade machine, intrigue lighting up their faces. Shunk presses the button, and to their surprise, the screen flickers to life, displaying what appears to be a stock image of a lavish gallery filled with stunning paintings. At the bottom of the screen, bold text reads: Push! A whimsical sound reminiscent of uncovering a hidden secret in a video game chimes through the air, adding to the excitement.
Suddenly, a figure approaches at full speed—a man clad in a black suit, his expression one of urgency and authority. “Hey!” he shouts, barrelling toward them. “We are M.E.G., and you do not have the right to use that arcade machine!”
Panic washes over the trio as they instinctively cling to the arcade machine, a mix of fear and thrill coursing through their veins. In a moment of desperation, Shunk presses the button again, and with a burst of energy, they are poofed away, just like the first time they encountered the Game Boy Light, somehow keeping the mysterious arcade machine with them.
Level 29
Artistic View
The three boys find themselves enveloped by a swirling cloud of smoke that quickly dissipates to reveal a remarkable gallery. Before them stretch walls adorned with abstract paintings, each piece more bewildering than the last. Some of the forms seem to suggest human figures, but the distortions make it impossible to discern anything with certainty. They remain frozen in their previous poses, still glued to the arcade machine that seems to have miraculously survived the sudden poofing. The neon glow of the machine shines brightly against the muted colours of the gallery.
“You guys are a big fan of paintings?” Bob remarks, stepping cautiously away from the arcade machine, a playful grin on his face. His eyes scan the colourful chaos on the walls. “What are the chances of us dying here?” Shunk adds, his tone laced with unease as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. Meanwhile, Wall wanders further into the gallery, his fingers fidgeting behind his back, absorbed in the array of paintings, his brow furrowed in concentration.
As they explore, they discover pristine white walls and a set of stairs leading to elevated areas, where sunlight streams in from above like a spotlight in a shopping centre. Bob approaches a large window, peering out and realizing just how high up they are. He squints to see the treetops below, tiny and distinct against the vibrant patchwork of green.
Wall’s attention is suddenly captured by a poster on the wall, the colours vivid and eye-catching. “Hey, guys, come here!” he calls out, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. The others promptly gather around, curiosity piqued. “Oh, that’s funny,” Bob chuckles, pointing at the poster. “I know, right? It’s almost like we’ve been there!” Wall replies with an exaggerated sarcastic tone, gesturing dramatically towards the poster as if clinging to humour.
Without warning, Wall phases through the poster, a look of shock washing over his face. Shunk, in a split-second decision, grabs Wall’s other arm, yanking him back in a panic. The force sends Wall tumbling to the ground, landing with a soft thud. “What did you see in there, Wall?!” Bob exclaims, his eyes wide as he admires the vibrant colours of the poster before quickly turning back to Wall, concern etched on his features.
“I saw that arcade again,” Wall stammers while scrambling back to his feet, brushing dirt from his all-white clothes. “There was that suited guy again, hanging around people with guns, all aimed right at where the arcade used to be. I couldn’t hear what they said, though.” Shunk holds Wall’s arm tightly, helping him maintain his balance as the reality of their situation settles in.
“Let’s try not to phase through any posters, okay?” Shunk suggests, dusting himself off as if trying to shake away the strangeness of their experience. “And let’s try avoiding that arcade machine,” Wall adds, glancing nervously at the still-present arcade machine that looms over them, a reminder of their potential danger.
Bob and Wall nod in agreement, and they continue to wander, captivated by the colourful swirls of the paintings around them. An hour drifts by in a mix of admiration and uncertainty, and Shunk’s attention is drawn to a peculiar painting depicting what looks like a discoloured rope. An intrusive thought pushes him forward, and as he digs his hand through the textured surface of the painting, it feels like plunging into wet paint. The scent of fresh paint surrounds him, intoxicating and disorienting.
After a minute’s effort, he finally gets a grip on something solid and pulls it out like a magician revealing a trick. As he retracts his hand, the sensation of the wet paint ebbs away, leaving behind a simple red square where the rope once hung.
Shunk races over to Bob, excitement and confusion swirling in his expression as he holds out the rope. “Give it to Wall,” Bob instructs, pointing towards him. “Oh, why?” Shunk asks, arms still cradling the rope protectively. “He has this infinite bag thing,” Bob explains, casting an amused glance at Shunk, who looks momentarily taken aback. “You didn’t notice because you were busy playing those arcade machines last area,” he adds, chuckling lightly to break the tension.
Shunk rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, but trudges over to Wall, presenting the rope with a slight smile. Wall produces his peculiar coin purse-like bag from his side and drops the rope inside with a soft clink. “Must be a deep bag,” Shunk observes, watching as Wall effortlessly closes the purse, while Wall simply nods, his gaze drifting past Shunk to Bob.
Suddenly, the lights cut out, plunging them into a suffocating darkness. A chilling screech reverberates through the space, and panic sets in. “Guys! I found this lighted area! Quick!” Bob shouts, his voice breaking through the inky blackness. After what feels like an eternity of disorientation, he spots Wall sprinting towards him. “Where’s Shunk?!” Bob asks anxiously, scanning the shadows for any sign of his friend.
“I grabbed his arm, but he slipped out in a panic!” Wall replies, his voice tight with anxiety. Bob’s hands clench at his sides as he struggles to breathe, his throat constricted with fear. He opens his mouth, ready to scream for Shunk, but Wall covers his mouth, a serious look in his eyes. “Shhh!” he whispers urgently. “You heard that screech, yeah? I think it’ll know where we are once one of us says something loud, so keep your mouth shut, okay?” Wall instructs, lowering his hand from Bob’s mouth but remaining tense.
“Alright, I just hope Shunk is safe,” Bob murmurs into Wall’s ear, a mixture of hope and dread in his voice. Wall’s fist clenches at his side, the worry etched deeply onto his face after spite and anger overcame him as the dark silence closes in around them.
Meanwhile, Shunk races through the darkness, his heart pounding in his chest. He crashes into walls, paint smearing across his clothes, panic gripping his mind. In his frantic scramble, he trips over a solid shape and hits the ground. Curiosity piquing amidst his fear, he reaches out and feels around what he realizes is a body, lifeless and cold. His fingers brush over fingerless gloves, and his eyes widen in horror. “BOB?! ARE YOU OK?!” he screams, panic-laden as he feels a warm liquid encounter his hands.
As the acrid scent of blood hits his nose, the realization of the gravity of the situation crashes down upon him. Overcome with emotion, he begins to wail and cry, despair echoing in the dark.
“Ugh, screw it, I’m just going to yell at this point,” Bob exclaims in frustration, his whispers abandoned in the face of their dire situation. “Shunk! I’m right here!” he calls out, his voice cutting through the darkness like a flare in the night.
Shunk’s face twists back into a state of confusion, a furrow forming between his brows as he processes the unfolding chaos around him. Suddenly, a rapid stomping echoes through the air, growing louder with each passing moment. Adrenaline surges within him as he begins to sprint toward Wall and Bob, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. “RUN!” he shouts, desperately warning his companions.
As Shunk races closer to the source of the light, Bob and Wall catch sight of a grotesque figure—a red human with eerily shut eyes, his crooked and yellowed teeth casting an unsettling grin. Fear propels Shunk past them, and they quickly follow, the three of them darting into a corner that leads into a dimly lit, reddish room. Bright red text looms overhead, reading ‘ROOM EXHIBITION’ in bold, capital letters, stark against the crimson backdrop. They hesitate for a moment, wide-eyed at the sight of more hallways branching out, each seemingly leading to different exhibitions, a labyrinth of uncertainty.
Their attention is drawn to a particular red hallway adorned with the playful text ‘Fun’ above a door, presumably an exit, and without a second thought, they plunge through it. Shunk, instinctively taking the lead, slams the door shut behind them, inadvertently locking it in the process. They breathe a collective sigh of relief, their bodies barely able to maintain the tension as they contemplate collapsing onto the floor. But their moment of respite is shattered as the sound of the monster’s relentless bashing reverberates against the door, jolting them back to their senses. “We’ve got to go!” Shunk urges, and they hurriedly sprint down the hallway, swiftly turning another corner.
“Well, a lot happened while we were in there. Is everyone okay?” Wall asks, glancing back at Shunk, whose face betrays lingering shock. “Yeah, it was pretty horrifying seeing your dead body, though, Bob,” he replies, his voice tinged with an unsettling realization. Bob raises both his eyebrows, a frown creasing his face as he processes the grim comment. “Wow, that was me?! That’s… weird.” Shunk nods in agreement, the lingering question hanging in the air. “I wonder what caused it,” Wall ponders aloud. “Probably the lights, if I were to guess,” Shunk responds thoughtfully.
As silence envelops the trio for a minute and a half, they notice paintings lining the walls—depictions of vibrant jungle gyms, lively play places, and festive birthday rooms. Bob’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Yeah, this screams fun,” he says, his eyes transfixed on the increasingly detailed artwork. The paintings sharpen into clarity with each step forward, transforming from abstract shapes to photorealistic scenes. Yet, an eerie vibe seeps from the walls, intensified by the only source of illumination—a spotlight shining down, casting a cinematic glow over the colourful, patterned room that was once filled with slides and ball pits.
What had once been a lively conversation among friends now falls into a suffocating silence. All they can hear are their own thoughts, echoed in the quietness of the hallways as they walk, heads downcast and fingers nervously twiddling. With each corner they turn, a sinking feeling deepens within them, the atmosphere becoming increasingly oppressive and dark. The joyful images become grotesque, morphing into the visage of a dark, massive play place that looms over them like a shadow. Their admiration fades as they move in a weary march, each room beginning to look indistinguishable, like stray cats hopelessly searching for their owners.
“I have to say, I don’t think we’re going to find an exit in this weird gallery,” Bob admits, fatigue etched into his features. “Well, we might as well try to hop into a painting like what happened with the poster and the rope,” Shunk suggests, a spark of determination igniting in them.
They all come to a halt, considering his words. “Speaking of the rope, we could use it to test what’s on the other side of the painting,” Wall comments, his eyes lighting up with a hint of excitement. “Good idea, Wall,” Shunk agrees, raising an eyebrow as a grin creeps onto his face. They select one painting from the countless similar images. Wall opens his purse and hands the rope to Bob, who promptly ties it around his waist. “When I tug on the rope, pull me out, okay?” Bob instructs, and both Shunk and Wall nod in agreement as he jumps into the painting, the motion accompanied by a whoosh sound that echoes in the eerie silence.
The quiet stretches on as they anxiously tug at the rope, moments ticking by steadily. “Sorry if I’ve been harsh on you, Wall,” Shunk finally breaks the silence, his tone earnest. Wall rolls his eyes, a twinge of annoyance seeping through. “All you think of me is being stupid.” The expression on Shunk’s face shifts from shock to sadness, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting Wall’s eyes again. “I do mean it, Wall,” he replies, his voice steady.
Wall ponders for a moment, confusion clouding his features. “Why would you be mad at me, though? What have I done?!” His voice rises, the tension palpable as he locks eyes with Shunk, intensity sparking between them. “It’s a new place, Wall. We’re just trying to grasp what to do. I haven’t been thinking before I say things because of everything that’s happening. I’m sorry.” A heavy silence blankets them for another minute as the weight of their words hangs in the air.
“Do you mean it?” Wall finally asks, his tone softening, searching for reassurance. Shunk’s expression brightens as he smiles, playfully punching Wall’s arm. “Of course I do, man! Why wouldn’t we be friends then?” Wall’s smile returns, a flicker of warmth breaking through the tension just as Bob tugs on the rope once more, a reminder of their eerie circumstances.
They both pull out Bob, who collapses onto the cold, hard ground. “Well, the painting sells itself here. It’s a dark play place! The only light is coming from a windowed door, though,” he remarks, his voice a mix of awe and trepidation. Shunk kneels to help Bob to his feet, deftly untying the rough rope that had bound his waist and giving the rope to Wall, who pops it into his purse. “I don’t think there is anything else we can do in this situation. That monster is probably waiting outside of the door,” Wall states, exaggeratedly scratching his non-existent beard, his brow furrowed with concern.
“I can try to check out the other paintings!” he exclaims suddenly, his eyes lighting up with a spark of bravado. In a flash, he darts around to the other corner, leaving Bob and Shunk to anxiously exchange glances. Moments later, they spot him racing back, a worried expression on his face. “I think this place is a clear dead end,” he announces, his voice tinged with dread, causing Bob to make a horrified expression—his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Painting it is,” he utters, a hint of fear creeping into his tone as he hesitates for just a second before taking the plunge. Summoning all his courage, he jumps into the swirling canvas, with the others reluctantly following behind him.
Level Fun
The Playrooms
The first thing they notice upon entering is an eerie voice echoing in their ears, reminiscent of an airplane’s announcement in flight, while a faint, dreamy tune drifts through the air, tinged with an unsettling quality. They scan their surroundings and catch a glimpse of a window glimmering up high near the ceiling, casting elongated shadows. To their immediate left stands a gigantic play place/jungle gym, vibrant and whimsical, like something you’d find at a child’s birthday party, complete with bright colours and towering structures. To their right, all they can see is a foreboding dark abyss, swallowing light and hope alike.
“I had noticed a slide up there leading into the wall. Maybe that’s the exit to this area?” Bob points out, his voice laced with a mix of hope and uncertainty. Shunk lets out a frustrated groan, shaking his head. “We aren’t four!” he retorts, amusement bubbling beneath his annoyance. “I mean, there is a dark abyss if you want to try that.” Bob shrugs, grinning, holding in laughter as he gestures toward the yawning void. “FINE!” Shunk concedes, rolling his eyes as the three share a hearty laugh that temporarily lifts the weight of their situation.
“We’re lucky the light up there is pretty bright,” Bob notes as they cautiously approach the play place, its inviting appearance contrasting sharply with the shadowy corners of their surroundings. “Yeah, true,” Wall responds, his gaze darting around as they inch closer, ever mindful of their safety. Shunk lags behind them, eyeing various supplies scattered about, searching for anything that might prove useful during their adventure. Suddenly, his attention is caught by a bottomless hole looming ominously over a frayed rope. “Guys, this play place doesn’t seem like what play places usually do,” he says, his voice tinged with unease, prompting the others to turn back and glance at the disturbing sight.
“I think we’ve searched around enough,” Wall trembles, anxiety creeping into his tone as they begin to ascend the foam stairs, each step a reminder of the uncertainty lurking around every corner. They crawl through the chaotic maze of the play place, navigating the soft barriers that create both a sense of safety and an underlying thrill of danger.
As they navigate through a whimsical maze of multi-coloured obstacles designed for four-year-olds, the environment around them begins to shift in startling ways. What once seemed familiar from the outside starts to reshape itself into something otherworldly. The air grows denser, and they watch in awe as they move through the gym slowly, seeing it transform into a realm adorned with all-netted ceilings and walls, casting shadows that dance eerily across their path. Beneath them, a concrete expanse stretches out, shrouded in a faint, ghostly white fog that drifts lazily, adding to the surreal atmosphere.
Unspoken fear mixed with a strange sense of relaxation envelops them like a thick blanket of calm. As they silently venture deeper into this bizarre landscape. Rain begins to pour from above, yet there is an uncanny silence—each droplet morphing into something ethereal, unable to touch them as if an invisible barrier protected them from its descent. They climb higher and higher, each stair and ladder leading them up into this dreamlike state, their energy seemingly sapped as the soothing melodies create a lull that tugs at their eyelids, gradually weighing them down.
As they drift further into the shadowy depths, the darkness is punctuated by sporadic bursts of light, beckoning from the corners of each twist and turn they bravely navigate. “Stupid balls,” Shunk mumbled quietly, fatigue edging his voice as he lazily shoves aside the colorful plastic spheres that clutter the space around them, his eyelids drooping with the onset of drowsiness.
Reaching the top of yet another staircase, they stand before the slide, a looming structure that seems to beckon with an air of dreariness. A palpable wave of melancholy washes over them as they confront the unsettling reality of leaving this curious haven behind. Wall tilts his gaze upward, taking in the glass door in the ceiling, then pulls his eyes downward to the fading mural where their adventure began, warmth replaced by the chill of impending separation.
“Do we have to leave?” Bob’s voice breaks the silence, laden with a hint of desperation as he looks to Shunk and Wall, his eyes wide with reluctance. “Wow, how the tables have turned! First, you wanted to be the guy leaving, and now you’re wanting to stay here,” Shunk replies, a teasing lilt to his tone as he watches Bob scoff, the camaraderie warming the cold air around them.
They lie down near the slide, their bodies spread out on the soft, pliable flooring, gazing up at the plastic-like ceiling. The warm hues radiating from the glass door wrap around them like a comforting blanket, cradling them in a moment of tranquillity.
For a few precious minutes, they remain in this peaceful cocoon, entranced by the smooth, dreamy music that envelops their senses. “All right,” Bob yawns, an audible crack in his resolution. “I’m done here.” The other two glance at him, eyes glistening with a flicker of sadness as they contemplate the end of their adventure. With a shared understanding, they muster the energy to push through the slide, their laughter lingering like a soft echo as they disappear into the unknown.
Level 264
Translucent Paths
The three stood at the edge of a vast and open reflective bridge that seemed to float high above the ground, embraced by a sky painted in soft shades of pink. Wisps of pink clouds drifted lazily by, mirroring the surreal ambiance, all while a gentle, dreamy melody floated through the air again, wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As they looked back, they noticed the slide they had just traversed had vanished, replaced entirely by the unending expanse of the bridge stretching out behind them.
Wall, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension, lay down to peer over the edge, his head hanging perilously close to the swirling mass of clouds beneath. “I wonder how this bridge is holding up,” he mused aloud, echoing a thought that seemed to flutter through the air as he drew himself back to a sitting position. Meanwhile, Bob squinted his eyes against the softness of the twilight sky, his gaze stretching to the far end of the bridge, where a door began to materialize out of thin air, its edges shimmering slightly as if it were a figment of their imagination. “Welp, I think it’s going to be a long ride, so we should walk it. I mean, there isn’t really a whole lot to do anyway,” he suggested, his voice steady despite the bizarre surroundings. The others nodded in agreement, and they slowly began their journey towards the beckoning door. Bob shoved his hands deep into his pockets, Wall rummaged through his purse with a fidgety energy, and Shunk found himself lost in contemplation, gazing off toward the distant cloud formations.
“I always wonder how we get up into this mess,” Shunk remarked, wiping his glasses with the hem of his shirt, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. “I mean, it happened when you spoke about the whole ‘no-clipping’ thing.” Bob pondered for a moment, then glanced over at Shunk. “Yeah, I always wonder how that affected it. I mean, we did no-clip, I think, more than once,” he assessed with a hint of concern lacing his tone. “It was probably just the near word spoken about it that happened,” Wall interjected, his voice thoughtful. “These levels have been pretty interesting since we’ve been here, too; so much has happened,” Bob recalled, scratching his head as he mulled over their adventures. “And of all this, we only saw one person,” he added with a giggle, shaking his head at the absurdity. “So many close calls where we would’ve died though, like those smiles and that weird red monster,” Wall remembered, a shiver of recollection passing through him as he spoke.
As they continued along the reflective bridge, the clouds began to envelop their surroundings more intimately, floating to their level in a dreamy haze. “This place is like an infinite sunset. I always wonder why some people just leave levels, though; it’s like a dream come true,” Bob acknowledged, his shoulders shrugging softly as he shifted his weight from one foot to another, hands still buried in his pockets. “What made it different for the first few levels, though?” Wall questioned suddenly, tossing the second last bottle of Almond Milk playfully to Shunk, the cap landing deftly in Shunk’s outstretched hand. “Uhhh, I think it was just the panic of being somewhere without an escape or something chasing you. But uhh, I sort of like this thrill of escaping,” Shunk replied, chugging the entire bottle of Almond Water in one go before tossing it off the side of the bridge, watching it disappear into the fluffy abyss below. “What about your life on the line, though? Uh, are you really risking it for peacefulness for a few seconds?” he pressed, licking his lips as the last remnants of the almond flavour lingered.
Bob pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to clear his eyes of the remnants of their conversation. “But that’s sort of the fun part—escaping and running away,” he countered, a hint of excitement sparking in his voice.
They fell into a contemplative silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts as they each wrestled with their musings, but the stillness stretched longer than expected. “What do you even think is behind the door?” Shunk pointed out, breaking the quiet. “It’d be funny if it was like more danger,” Wall commented, slipping his purse back into his pocket as a bemused smile spread across his face—an amusing thought amid their strange adventure.
They arrive at the door, the anticipation hanging in the air like an unspoken promise. Before Bob opens it, he opens his mouth, his voice steady but laced with hope. “Let’s just hope it’s an exit or something.” With a deep breath, Bob turns the handle and swings the door open, revealing an overwhelming white abyss that seems to stretch endlessly. For a brief moment, they feel weightless, suspended in this surreal space, before the void shatters into a dazzling black flash and coalesces into a lobby-like area.
The Promised Land
As they step inside, a vibrant scene unfolds before them, one that feels strikingly real. They take in their surroundings, keeping their thoughts to themselves while observing actual people lounging comfortably on plush couches or eagerly selecting snacks from a brightly lit vending machine. The atmosphere is alive with energy, enhanced by long neon strips casting an inviting glow from overhead. Bob exhales heavily, a smile creeping onto his face. “Peace at last.”
Drawn by the allure of the panoramic view, they press their fingers and faces against a sleek glass window behind them, mesmerized by the spectacle of pink clouds swirling lazily in a cotton-candy sky. “What a connection to the last level!” Shunk exclaims, laughter bubbling up as he gazes out.
Wall turns to find a well-dressed woman at the reception desk, her attention drawn to the trio. She flashes a welcoming smile, her voice friendly and warm. “Are you guys new here?” Wall glances back at Shunk and Bob, who are entranced by the enchanting sky, momentarily oblivious. “Guys,” Wall calls out, prompting them to turn and notice the receptionist. They stride over, curiosity piquing.
“Yeah, we’re a little new here,” Shunk replies, a smile spreading across his face, soft and inviting. The receptionist nods, her professionalism shining through. “Well, this is level three-hundred and ninety-nine! If you may have noticed, it’s a four-hundred-story hotel with about four thousand rooms, most of them styled around a level of the Backrooms! Would you like to all be in the same room?” Her gaze drifts to a mountain of hung keys on her left as she clutches a clipboard, fingers tapping lightly against it.
“Hmmmm, yeah,” Bob responds, his voice thoughtful, weighing the options carefully.
“All right! Just follow my lead, then.” The receptionist selects the ninth key from the rack, its metallic surface gleaming in the overhead lights, and begins to walk towards the left, guided by a sign reading ‘0 – 10.’ The others follow in her wake, navigating through the bustling crowd, dodging those who bustle past, each absorbed in their world with varyingly aged styles and accents. “Full hotel, isn’t it? It’s like the lobby at the end of a movie at the cinema,” Shunk comments, glancing back at Bob, who simply nods, his eyes scanning the lively scene. “Mhm.”
After a few minutes of weaving through the throng, she finally opens the door to their room and hands them the key, its surface cool and reassuring in Bob’s grasp. Just as they are about to cross the threshold, the receptionist speaks again, her tone informative yet warm. “Now, if you ever want to leave the level, just take a nap.” Before they can fully process her words, they collectively sigh in relief. “When you wake up, you’ll find yourself back before you arrived at level 0, with the key still in hand. If you ever get teleported into the Backrooms again, just bend the key to call the hotel, and we’ll graciously teleport you back to your room in a pinch! And thanks again for booking at The Promised Land! Do you have any questions?”
Shunk pauses, deep in thought, his brow furrowing slightly. “How is it possible to keep rooms here without this place overflowing?” The receptionist considers the question for less than a second. “Well, scientists have found out that it’s only a few select people who are chosen to be sent to the Backrooms. Usually happens in 1 of 3 people, but it seems like a special case here!” She giggles softly and then saunters back to her reception desk, leaving them to absorb the information.
Entering their room, they are greeted by an 80’s 80s-styled decor, walls plastered with gooseduck posters, the vibrant colours brightening the ambiance. They notice a window with a normal neighbourhood and night sky light, seeing horrific creatures running about, but they don’t put it into consideration. A few classic arcade machines beckon playfully, blending nostalgia with excitement. The sweet smell of bepsi wafts through the air, encouraging reminiscence. They all notice three sleeping bags spread invitingly across the floor, their coziness alluring. “Well, we had fun, but I think it’s time to go home,” Bob declares as they each snuggle into the sleeping bags, feeling the warmth envelop them. Within moments, they succumb to the weight of exhaustion, falling asleep like rocks, embraced by the tranquillity of their new surroundings.
The Frontrooms
Shunk and Wall slowly awaken on the worn, threadbare couch, the remnants of sleep lingering in their eyes. The faint glow of the TV screen illuminates the dim living room, where Bob finds himself sprawled on the floor next to the Nintendo 64, its familiar sound of Super Mario 64 echoing through the space, still turned on and pulsating with vibrant colours as Mario is seen sleeping in front of tick-tock clock. The cheerful music from the game contrasts sharply with the haze of confusion left over from their recent experience.
Wall rubs his eyes and pulls out his phone, to which a key is seemingly attached to the phone with words etched in: ‘The Promised Land, R9’ The phone’s bright screen is a jarring reminder of reality. He squints at the time, his brow furrowing as he realizes, “Damn, it’s still the thirty-second of April, like time froze when we were in the backrooms.” The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty.
Shunk’s expression shifts to one of alarm, worry etched across his features. “So is time still frozen?!” he exclaims, a hint of panic creeping into his voice.
Bob, ever the calm presence in their trio, smirks as he glances up at the ceiling, momentarily lost in thought before returning his gaze to Shunk. “The seconds and minutes are still going off; it’s fine,” he reassures them, his tone laced with a playful confidence.
Their laughter fills the room, a momentary respite from the bizarre reality they’ve just returned from. Wall, invigorated by the humour, springs to his feet and stretches, looking between his friends with a contemplative expression. “Should we go back to the backrooms tomorrow?” he questions, his tone shifting to one of curiosity as he locks eyes with Bob.
Bob meets Wall’s gaze with a thoughtful stare, then turns to Shunk, who still sits on the couch, processing everything. The air is thick with anticipation as they ponder the unknown that awaits them, the potential of another adventure lingering like an unspoken promise.
“sure.”
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