The Backrooms Part One

Treyvon

“Call Out My Name” by The Weeknd reverberates through the large dark wood-like tiles on the bathroom walls. The porcelain sink that was once white is now stained with my vomit as I continue dry heaving in disgust of the smell.

“Fuck me!” I spit out, switching sinks and cupping my hands under the faucet. The water tastes refreshing as I swish it around my mouth before spitting it out. “I’ll be feeling this shit tomorrow,” I laugh, looking at myself in the mirror littered with fingerprints smudges. My light brown face looks exhausted and ready to go home, but I know damn well I won’t be able to convince Jayden to leave, so my best bet is to switch to water and hope I get lucky with one of these fine ass girls at this club.

My reflection offers a half-assed “you’ve got this, Treyvon,” smile and scrutinizes every detail of my face as I feel another wave of vomit rush to my throat. “Oh fuck,” I whisper, rushing to the sink. “Calm down, focus on something, Trey,” I whisper, choosing to focus on my facial hair. I’ve got the classic five o’clock shadow, strong jawline, and my short dreadlocks are tied back. Needless to say, I’m not exactly cocky, but if I don’t get a bitch tonight, then something is wrong.

Another rush of the vomit hits my throat full force, and I lean forward, gripping the sides of the sink as I focus on my outfit. Black pants, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket. “You’ve got this. You’re gonna meet a girl, leave the club with her, go grab a bite to eat and head back to her place that overlooks the whole city. Then-” Right as I open my mouth, it all comes out, hitting the faucet handles, mirror, and counter. “You’ve got to be fucking with me!” I groan out.

Alice

“So, you here by yourself?” The bartender asks, setting my glass on the counter in front of me. I look up at her and fight the urge to ask what part of Asia her family is from. Her makeup is on point, and her eye wings are begging me to strike up a conversation with her. She’s more on the heavy side, but she isn’t fat per se, and that’s exactly what drives me crazy. Another thing that drives me crazy is her short blue hair that I want to run my hands through.

“I-I’m Alice, and I just came with some friends, but they left, I think, so I’m just here by myself now,” I say, picking up my drink and taking a sip. The pineapple isn’t overpowering, and neither is the vodka. “You make good drinks.”

“I hope so. Otherwise, I’d lose my job, Alice,” she laughs, smiling and winking at me before walking to another obnoxious drunk customer. My cheeks start burning, and my heart is pounding as I think about what that wink could mean. Was she flirting? Was it just a weird eye thing she does? What the fuck could it be?

There’s a mirror on the wall behind the endless expensive bottles of liquor, and I see my reflection, clearly tipsy and confused. My pale face is filled with desperation for someone to talk to, and the same could be said about my topaz blue eyes. My messy short brown hair matches my light brown freckles on my cheeks, and although I don’t like my freckles, I’ve found that every girl I’ve ever dated has been attracted to them. “Why’d I lie to her?” I whisper, taking another sip.

“What’s wrong with you?” I look to my right, and a drunk woman is lying her head on the counter. She’s pounding her fist on the counter in perfect synchronization with the music blasting from the speakers. Suddenly, the crowd of sixty or so people behind me erupts in cheers as the song changes to “Call Out My Name” by The Weeknd. “Why are you muttering to yourself?” She asks, lifting her head up only to drop it back down. Her blonde hair is covering half her face, and for that, I’m grateful since Ophelia, my ex-girlfriend was blonde. In a sick twisted way, I get to pretend that this poor girl who has one too many is Ophelia.

“I’m pathetic,” I say, swirling my drink around in my hand. “I lied to the hot-ass bartender about having come with my friends when in reality I have none.”

“You don’t have any friends?”

“No, not really.”

“So why are you here?” She asks.

I’m here because I’m desperate to get over you. I’m here because you hurt me by leaving me for some bitch I’ve never even seen before, and I hate you for that. I hate myself for not being good enough for you and for saying I hate you. I don’t even know the girl you’re with now, but I hate that I hate her so much.

“Don’t leave me hanging,” she complains. “C’mon!”

“I’m here because I had a date, but she stood me up, so now I’m trying to get drunk and flirt with the bartender.”

“Wow.” I look up and nearly fall off the barstool when I see the look of amusement on the bartender’s face. “That is pathetic.”

“I-”

“It’s pathetic that you got stood up. Shame on her.” She smiles at me, and my heartbeat slowly starts coming to an average beat. “And you can stop calling me ‘bartender’ and start calling me by my name.” She slips me a piece of paper and sets another drink in front of me. The paper has her phone number along with her name.

“Kaiya,” I coo, looking down then back up at her. She smiles wide and covers her smile with her hand.

“Excuse me, could I grab a water?” I look next to me and see a relatively decent-looking black guy, looking ahead at Kaiya.

“Coming right up,” Kaiya says, turning around and going to a fridge filled with bottles of different beer and bottles of water.

“How you ladies doing tonight?” He asks, flashing a perfectly straight smile at me.

“Things are slowly but surely looking up. I just got-”

“I feel sick!” The girl next to me interrupts.

“You want some water?” Kaiya asks, returning with a bottle of cold water for the man behind me. “Here you-”

“Thank you,” the drunk girl says, snatching it from her hand before the man can grab it. “I’m so fucked up right now.”

“That was for the gentleman right there, ma’am,” Kaiya groans, rolling her eyes and going back to the fridge.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” she says.

“It’s okay,” he laughs, “and you can call me Treyvon.”

“Treyvon, huh?” I ask, looking him up and down. “Wait, aren’t you the guy who saved that lady from the car crash last week? Didn’t you drag her out of the burning car?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “You’re the first person to recognize me!”

“I’m Alice,” I say, basking in the presence of a hero. “Can I ask you a few questions? I’m an independent journalist and would love to talk with you about that night.”

“Sure!” He exclaims. “It sure as hell beats not doing anything. Just let me get a drink of-”

“Here, have my drink!” The girl grabs her glass and turns fast in her seat, hitting Treyvon right in his chest and spilling the drink all over his clothes. He jumps back, and I can tell he’s holding in the urge to say something, then… It happens.

Treyvon

“Oh shit!” I let out as she vomits all over the floor. Some of it gets on Alice’s leg, and she looks away in disgust. “I’m gonna go clean up my shoes real quick, and I’ll be back with some paper towels,” I grumble, looking at my new shoes covered with vomit. “Do me a favor and drink that fucking water, yeah?” I ask, rushing to the restroom.

Alice

“Oh fuck!” She cries out, opening the water and taking a sip. “I can’t believe I just did that!”

“Alice, please tell me she didn’t make a big mess,” Kaiya grouses, trying to look over the counter at the floor.

“Don’t worry, my leg caught most of the vomit,” I say through gritted teeth, taking off my black heels. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Treyvon is bringing back some towels, so get ready to clean up your mess,” I tell the drunk girl. Kaiya shakes her head and scolds the girl for drinking too much. I let out a sigh and start my walk to the restroom.

Treyvon

I can’t help but wonder if I’m in the correct restroom or not, considering the fact there aren’t any stalls. There are a few urinals without any dividers, and there is the same countertop and sinks, but the thing that stands out most of all is the grey metal door with a small vertical window that shows a stairwell. “Is this nightclub connected to another building or something?” I ask aloud, taking curious steps toward the door. The silver doorplate has the word BACKROOMS engraved on it.

“Backrooms?” I laugh out. Is this the staff breakroom or something? Actually, maybe I could find a janitor or something and ask him to give that bitch a mop so she can clean up her fucking mess.

“Hello, is anyone here?” I call out as I open the door. The smell of rusty tools hits me, and immediately I want to start gagging. “Fuck this, she can clean it with towels,” I mutter, turning and reaching for the door handle.

“What the fuck?” I stammer out. “What the fuck?” The door… the door isn’t there anymore? “That’s…” I search for my words as I touch the cold stone wall, wondering if I’m losing my mind. “Did I just go down to the second level?” I laugh out. “I did that shit subconsciously, didn’t I?” I start walking up the stairs, not touching the greasy-looking black railing, and once I get to the platform, I stop dead in my tracks. Up ahead, the wall is completely stone. “What the fuck?” I groan loudly and march up the stairs, continuing until I reach the next platform… only to find the same exact wall.

“Okay, I must have gone downstairs then, right, Trey?” I whisper. “I ain’t fucking tripping or anything. I know I went downstairs, but my dumbass just came upstairs instead.” My voice seems to echo up and down the flights of what feels like endless floors, despite the fact I’m whispering to myself.

“Rugh!”

“What the fuck?” I shout, grabbing the rail and ducking down. “Who the fuck is up there?” I ask, looking between the middle section of the stairs. About five floors up, I see something that makes my legs move on their own. The grey, eyeless, fuck with rows of serrated teeth lets out another screech that only makes my legs work overtime as I race down the stairs.

“Narugh!” Nearly snapping my damn neck, I turn to see the thing- or woman, I guess, throwing herself down the whole flight of stairs. Its body is thin, so thin that I can see its ribcage. Its long sagging breast goes all the way down to its… to its backward knees.

“Move,” I whisper to myself as I watch it snap itself into a new position. The creature gets on all fours, and I gag as its knees snap to a normal position. “Move!” I yell, throwing myself down the stairs. I land on the last few steps and crawl away as it comes down step by step, clicking its long sharp tongue. “Click! Click! Click!”

“Please!” I beg, my back hitting the wall. “Please, God! Help me!”

“Reugh!” It screams, leaping straight at me. I close my eyes before it reaches me, and in a whole second, I see random memories of my childhood all flash before me at once. My first time eating ice cream, my first time getting all straight A’s, my first breakup, seeing my grandma for the last time before she died, all these memories flash before my eyes, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m about to meet Grandma again.

Alice

“Backrooms to what?” I ask myself, opening the door. “Is this the staff area?” I pull on my converse shoes and look down to see if I got all the vomit off my legs. She stained my skirt, but thankfully it’s black, so no one should notice.

“Excuse me?” I call out. “Is anyone here?” I step inside and hear running coming far below me, followed by what sounds like… Treyvon?

“Treyvon?” I call out. “Hello?” I drop my heels on the ground and just race down the stairs, my bag hitting my leg the whole time while I run.

“Reugh! Arugh! Rah!” The screams pierce my ears, and I stand frozen in fear as I hear whatever made those noises coming from above me.

“Rah!” I turn around and see the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life, crawling up the stairs. It’s a grey, eyeless woman who’s struggling to stand as she clicks her tongue. “Click! Click! Click!”

“Stay away!” I scream, turning around and racing to the door, but that’s when I realize that there is no door. “What?” I cry out. “No, it was just here!”

“Ha!” behind me, a hand grips my whole head, and my forehead is slammed into the wall in front of me once… twice… everything is spinning and getting blurry. Everything sounds distorted and far away. Then… it all fades to black.

***

“Alice.” I open my eyes, and slowly everything becomes clear. The smell hits me first before anything. It reeks of mildew, and the dirty yellow-brownish carpet I’m lying on is damp to the touch. “Here, let me help you,” Treyvon says, pulling me up from under my arms. “Are you okay?” He asks, letting out a sigh after helping me up.

“Where are we?” I ask, taking in the yellow wallpaper all around us. It looks like it was ripped straight out of the ‘70s. “What the fuck were those things? Did you see those things?”

“Those?” he asks, confused by what I just said. “I thought there was only one. Wait, were you in the stairwell as well?”

“Yeah! I tried to leave, but the door just…”

“Disappeared?” he asks, looking up at the dim fluorescent lights, clearly irritated by them. “Those fucking things make the loudest buzzing noise!”

“What the hell is that?” I ask, pointing to the single piece of paper in the middle of the room. The four walls around us start spontaneously vibrating, and the humming noise intensifies. “What’s going on?” I ask, hoping that maybe Treyvon is some sort of scientist that can explain what the actual fuck is going on.

“Shit, hell if I know,” he sputters out. There go my hopes of him being a scientist or something. “There’s something written on it.”

“What’s it say,” I ask, taking cautious steps toward the paper with him. We take one step at a time, and when we get to it, we both exchange confused glances.

“If you're not careful and you noclip out of reality in the wrong areas, and you'll end up in the Backrooms, where it's nothing but the stink of old moist carpet, the madness of mono-yellow, the endless background noise of fluorescent lights at maximum hum-buzz, and approximately six hundred million square miles of randomly segmented empty rooms to be trapped in,” Trey reads aloud.

“God save you if you hear something wandering around nearby because it sure as hell has heard you,” I finish. “Wait… the walls.”

“They…”

“They’re gone,” I whisper, looking out to the abyss of rooms.

“Well, not technically,” he corrects me. “There are just a fuck ton more than before.”

“The Backrooms are how big?” I ask, trying to deny what’s going on around me.

“Approximately six hundred million square miles of… of randomly segmented empty rooms.”

“Well, there has to be an exit, right?” I ask. “If this is some fucked up maze game, then there has to be an exit or a secret exit for whoever built this place.”

“Built this place?” He mocks me. “Who exactly do you think built this place?”

“I don’t know!” I argue. “Maybe those things that attacked us!”

“Shut the fuck up!” he hisses. “I completely forgot about that. The paper said that there are things wandering around this place!”

“Oh fuck!” I hiss back. “Wait, our phones!” This time I raise my voice and start laughing.

“That’s right!” He yells. “Hey, fuckers! We’re calling the fucking cops!”

“Yeah!” I scream, pulling my phone from my bag. I’m amazed that it didn’t get stolen by those things when they smashed my head against the wall. “Hold on,” I mutter.

“C’mon, why the fuck ain’t I getting signal. Alice, you getting anything?” he asks, holding his phone screen up to me.

“Are you hurt?” I ask.

“What?”

“Are you hurt?” I repeat, letting out a breath of air I didn’t realize I was holding in. “I had my head banged against the wall over and over, but I don’t have a single bruise to show for it do I?” I ask, looking down at the reflection of my screen. I run my hand over my forehead, and I don’t feel any pain whatsoever.

“You’re right,” he says, feeling his face. “I could have sworn it went straight for my head, but why isn’t there any pain when I touch myself?”

“I don’t have any signal either,” I say, looking down at my screen. “No bars at all.”

“What time does it say for you?” He asks, looking at his phone. “For me, it says 1:40 a.m.”

“1:40 a.m,” I confirm. “But we left at 1:40 to go to the restroom, didn’t we?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I know for a fact because I checked to see if I got any texts.”

“Then-” Suddenly, his hand goes over my mouth, and his eyes grow large.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispers. “Don’t move a fucking muscle.”

“Click! Click! Click!”

The Backrooms Part Two

Treyvon

“Click! Click! Click!”

Within a moment of pure panic, I pressed my hand over Alice’s mouth, and now I’m having an internal fight on whether or not to let go and run or stay with her. I've never been particularly good at weighing out the pros and cons when given a choice. All my life, I’ve made terrible decisions, and I can’t help but feel like I’m about to make another.

Run!

I can’t!

I’ll just yell for her to run with me! It’s her fault if she gets caught!

Am I really going to abandon her?

Am I really the man who saved that lady?

Am I really going to let her die?

I’m not sure if it’s my hand that’s shaking in fear or Alice shaking. The thought of this thing lunging at us just because it hears our breathing, or can feel us shaking, or simply even bumps into us makes me want to take off running, but I know deep in my heart that I won’t be able to do so. 

“Click! Click! Click!”

The woman, or creature, or whatever it is, lurches over from the entrance of another room, the unnerving yellow wallpaper doing nothing to offer comfort to me as she clicks away with her tongue. She stops dead in her tracks, her flaky pale skin peeling off in random places, and jerks her head towards us, audibly cracking her bones in her neck. The one from earlier wasn’t white like this one, and- Damnit, Treyvon! You’re about to fucking die, and this is what you decide to think about before you die?

“Yarugh!” She screeches out, reminding me of the awful noise two knives cutting against each other makes. “Urgh! Yarno! Nodont! Ren!”

As a kid, I would always answer the classic “What superpower would you pick?” with the same answer each time. 

“Slow Motion!” I would exclaim each time I was asked. The thought of making everything around you move slower than a snail was something I often indulged myself in rather than focusing on the lesson that was being taught that day at school.

It’s funny. I never once thought I would end up with that superpower, only to find out I had it in the first place by watching my single bead of sweat fall down to the mustard yellow carpet as the hellish monster leans in closer to us. 

“Arugh!” 

The noise comes directly behind us, causing the creature next to us to jerk her head in the direction and screech so high pitched that the fluorescent bulbs above us fade in and out, then it gets so bright that I’m almost certain the bulb is about to burst. Every muscle in my body wants to jump, but I stay perfectly still as the creature drops on all fours and takes off full speed ahead.

“Okay,” I whisper, letting my hand fall from Alice’s mouth. “I’ve noticed some things about these women.”

“Anything useful?” Alice whispers back, hugging herself. “Anything that’ll help us out in the slightest is more than enough.”

“First off, the one I saw in the stairwell was grey, while this one was as white as a fucking ghost.”

“So just skin color?” She asks, raising up both of her hands. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hey, it’s something!” I hiss at her. I can tell she’s exhausted by her messy brown hair, and the wave of guilt I feel for becoming pissed off is starting to eat at me. “Look, let’s just keep cool heads here, alright?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” she says in a normal speaking volume. 

“The second thing I’ve noticed is that those things can control the electricity with their screeching, so we can use that to our advantage somehow, right? I mean ” 

“I can’t think of anything off the top of my head…” her voice trails off, and she reaches into her purse, pulling out a small pink taser. “If it can control electricity, then theoretically, the louder it screeches, the more powerful the taser will become, right?” 

“Maybe. It’s a longshot, but if one of us gets in trouble, we can tase the bitch and hope she screams loud enough where the taser will kill it.” 

“Wait, why don’t we just try fighting it?” 

“You want to fight that shit?” I ask her. “Them fuckers got sharp ass teeth, Alice. I ain’t finna fight one unless it comes to it.” 

“Well, I’m not about to tase one; useless it comes to it as well,” she says. “We can’t just sit here though, we have to move.”

“Okay then,” I say, looking ahead at the endless rooms of mustard yellow. “Let’s go.”

Alice

“So, what happened that day?” I ask him while we walk. I’ve had the timer app on my phone going this whole time, and it’s been damn near thirty minutes that we’ve walked, but my phone still says it’s 1:40 AM.

“You mean when I saved that lady?” he asks, letting out a sigh. I follow him to the nearest wall and slump against it with him. I’m so tired that I don’t give a shit if he’s okay with me resting my head on his shoulder or not. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah,” I mummer, shutting my eyes. “Tell me everything.”

“I saw the crash happen right there at the intersection,” he begins. “I was walking to my homeboy’s place, and that drunk driver just turned left into oncoming traffic, hitting that lady’s car going about forty or so.”

“Jesus,” I whisper.

“It didn’t happen in slow motion like in the movies. It was fast, and the sound I heard on impact is something I’ll never forget. This was dead of night, and there was hardly any traffic at all, so I was the only one who witnessed it. I called 911, and it felt so surreal as I did.”

His breathing changes ever so slightly, and I notice that his voice is almost distant, as if he’s someplace else in his mind. 

“The guy who was driving the pickup was blaring on his horn, and I approached his truck, opening his door only to see him dead, leaning on the horn, so I pulled him off and looked at the car he hit.”

“Barbra Smith,” I whisper. “Her granddaughter…”

“The little girl was in the passenger seat slumped over with the airbag right in her bloody face. Her fucking face was shattered, and I couldn’t even tell it was human. Barbra kept trying to reach out for her, even with her broken arm, while I tried to cut the seatbelt with my knife,” he explains, pulling out a black switchblade knife. “I uh…”

“Trey-”

“I couldn’t figure out how to get her out without damaging her since the car was completely flipped. I don’t even know how it flipped, but it did, and I couldn’t figure out how to pull her out with a broken arm. I mean, it was bent in a way that it shouldn't have been. It was completely backwards.”

He extends his arms out in front of him, almost trying to demonstrate what it is he saw. I just close my eyes again and try focusing. I can see him trying his best to cut away at the seatbelt and taking the occasional glance around him in hopes of spotting an ambulance or fire truck, or police SUV, or anyone. 

“Then her hood started smoking. Black smoke started coming from her hood, and I knew right then and there that I had to move faster. I cut her out from the seatbelt and dragged her away from the car, fighting her every single second as she tried to break free and go back for her granddaughter. The car erupted in flames, and we watched while her granddaughter burned up.”

“Yugh!” 

“Stay quiet,” he whispers, grabbing my hand. “Just stay quiet and-” The lights in our room and nearby rooms go out, and we’re surrounded by darkness, the sound of silence, and the smell of mildew.

“The lights,” I whisper. “Trey, should we-” 

“No! Argh!”

“Stay still and shut up,” he whispers in my ear as we both shake. “Do you hear that?” I focus on the noise, and it sounds like the beating of wings from a giant vulture, only for it to suddenly shift to the sound of someone sprinting. Trey and I let out collective gasps as a new creature charges in the room and stops in the center, jerking its head at us.

“Shurah!” The screams pierce my ears, and I close my eyes, praying that it doesn’t attack us. Before I can recite a single prayer, however, Treyvon pushes me out of the way just in time as the creature charges us. “Rah!” It roars out, making the lights come on- granted, the lights are so dim they barely serve a purpose being on- I see it fully now, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m in Hell.

The Backrooms Part Three

Treyvon

This creature is different than the other ones we’ve seen. This fucker has wings that are easily nine feet each in length. The wings themselves are like a bat’s wings, transparent and ghoulish looking. 

“Holy shit!” Alice screams, scrambling for her bag.

“Ugh!” The creature grunts and backs away, its wings flapping violently. “Raun!”

“Run?” I mutter, looking over at Alice as she raises her taser. She presses the button, and the intense zapping noise from the taser makes the creature squeal out so loud that I cover my ears and shout out in pain. The taser, along with the lights, grows brighter and louder. The humming from the lights is deafening, and suddenly the bulbs explode as well as the taser. Alice drops it, and by the grace of God, her hands are fine.

“Let’s fucking go!” I yell, running past her and dragging her along. It takes only a few seconds before the creature is flying after us. I take a glance behind my shoulder, and it’s struggling to keep up.

“Trey, watch out!” 

“Rah!” The moment I look back in front of me, I see one of the female creatures blocking one of the rooms, so I jerk Alice to the right and head straight for another room. 

***

“Wait!” Alice shouts, pulling my hand away. “We lost them!”

“Alice, open your fucking eyes!” I shout back, spinning in a circle with my arms spread out. “Do you notice anything different?” I ask, dumbfounded by her lack of awareness. 

“The lights,” she huffs out, “they’re all so… Dim.”

“Yeah, and-” I stop mid-sentence and look in the corner of the room we’re in, focusing on the dark outline of someone hidden in the shadows. The lights above us suddenly go out, and Alice holds onto my arm for dear life. “We’re not alone.”

“I’ll use my light on my phone,” she whispers, pulling her phone from her purse. She flashes it at the corner I was looking at, and nothing is there, but the feeling of being watched is so overwhelming that I want to run. “What did you see?”

“A shadow person,” I tell her.

“Look, we’ve seen so much questionable shit-”

“What are you saying?” 

“What I’m saying is that we’re both exhausted and going crazy in this fucking labyrinth.”

“Alice,” I laugh out. “I am not fucking crazy.”

“I’m not saying you are.” She backs up and shakes her head. “Trey, let’s just rest for a minute. I’m tired.”

“Ha-ha-ha.”

“Oh God,” Alice cries out, slapping her dead phone against her hand as if expecting her flashlight to turn back on magically. “Trey, your phone!”

“On it,” I say, reaching in my pocket, pulling out my phone, and clicking the power button. I’ve always joked with my younger siblings that if their phone died, they would know genuine fear, but right now, I’m on the verge of tears. “My fucking phone died.”

“What do we do?” Alice lets out through rapid breaths. The room next to us still has its lights on, albeit dim, but I’d rather have some light than no light, so I lead us to the room, taking each step cautiously. 

“Alice?” I ask, feeling her grip on my arm loosen. “Alice?” I reach out to where she should be, and she’s gone.

“Trey!” I turn around, and in the next room, she’s standing directly under the lights. “Run!” 

"Alice!" I scream out, right as my arms are grabbed and pulled behind me. I don't know how the hell she got there so fast, but all I know is that she's in the same amount of danger, maybe even more since the giant winged creature is behind her.

Alice

I’ve always gone back and forth on God’s existence, but now I’m convinced God is real, and so is the Devil. I don’t know why Trey led me here then turned around back to the darkness. I tried with everything to pull him back, but he kept walking deeper in the room, calling out for me.

“Alice, run!” He screams out from somewhere inside the darkness. A million thoughts race through my mind as I hear the flapping of wings behind me and see the lights in my room become brighter. 

“I’m coming!” I scream, running full speed ahead into the darkness with the flying demon right on my tail. It’s almost like everything moves in slow motion as the creature screams and the room lights up. In the corner of the room, I see four shadow people- blacker than darkness- retreating into the walls, attempting to pull Trey inside. His bottom half is already inside, so I dive right at him and hold onto his hands, pulling with every ounce of strength I have. 

“Alice, let go!” Trey pleads with me as the screams from behind me make the room even brighter. It’s so bright that everything is turning white. I close my eyes right before Treyvon’s head is pulled into the wall. Call me selfish, but I refuse to be the only one trapped in this maze. I’d rather be sucked into the wall with him than have to get ripped to pieces by these demons.

Treyvon

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that inches away from me is a puddle of water. Not only that but also the floor is concrete instead of the damp and ugly yellow carpet.

“Trey?” I turn around, and Alice is on the ground, sweating bullets as she waves me over. “Can I get some help up?”

“I’m glad to see you joined me. I wasn’t really feeling the yellow walls anymore.” 

“Very funny,” she says, grunting as I pull her off the floor. “Where are we? A parking garage?”

“I’d say so by the looks of it.” I take a deep breath and smell the scent of rust. “It smells like a fucking toolbox,” I complain, noticing she’s trailing behind me as I take a few steps forward. The whole level of this parking garage we’re on is vacant of any cars, but there are wooden crates, oddly enough. I approach the nearest crate, seeing the lid has been ripped off with a crowbar that’s just laying on the ground next to the box, and I take a peek inside, letting a smile spread. “Alice, come here!” 

“Trey…” She calls out, “I think you should see this sign.”

“Forget the sign. I found something great!” I call back to her, reaching inside the crate, pulling out a first aid kit, two backpacks that, by the weight of them, are probably filled with good shit, an old wooden baseball bat with a crack down the middle, and four bottles of… “What the hell is almond water?” I laugh out, opening the bags.

“Trey, get over here!” 

“I’m coming,” I mutter, looking at the boxes of crayons, flashlights, batteries, and other random gear. Before I start walking to her, I reach down and grab the crowbar.  “Here’s your bag,” I tell her as I walk up to her, fearing the reason she looks so nervous. 

“Look at this damn thing,” she says, shaking her head and covering her face. On the wall is a white tarp with the words “LEVEL ONE” written on it in thick wet blood. “Holy shit,” I let out, looking at the trail of blood leading to a pillar.

“Why are there handprints?” She asks, taking a bag from my hand and putting it on her back. On the grey pillar, abounding handprints are leading up all the way to the ceiling above us, where they are scattered all around. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here. We-”

“Trey,” she interrupts, “This fog…”

I do a quick spin and see that a dense fog has just appeared out of nowhere. The fog is so thick that I can only see about seven feet in front of me. To make matters worse, the lights ahead are starting to flicker. 

“Alice, grab your flashlight from the bag!” I tell her, reaching in my bag and pulling out the blue flashlight. “These lights could go out at any second!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she whispers, pressing down the switch on her red flashlight. A high-powered beam of light stretches out ahead and disappears into the fog. “It’s freezing!”

“I’m from New York, so the cold doesn’t really get to me,” I tell her. 

“I’m originally from Waco, Texas, but when I was fifteen, my family moved here to Los Angeles, so I’m not particularly fond of the icy temperature right now.”

“Go Baylor, right?”

“Fuck Baylor!” she laughs out. “Everyone at Baylor thinks their shit doesn’t smell.”

“Yeah, but the basketball team there is great. I love-”

“Arf! Arf! Arf!”

“Is that a dog?” Alice asks, a small smile spreading across her face. That smile instantly vanishes as the barking gets more violent and eventually turns into howling.

“Those are dogs,” I correct her, gripping the crowbar in my hands. “Here, trade with me. This should be lighter for you to swing,” I tell her. We swap out weapons, and I smack the comfortably heavy baseball bat in my right hand.

“Southpaw?”

“You know it.”

“Woof! Arf!”

“You ready for this?” I ask her, simultaneously asking myself if I’m ready for what’s about to happen. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”