In which I lose my way

I am lost. I      nexplicably, inextricably l       ost. I don't recognize an      y of the buildings around m       e and even if I did, it woul                                        d not do any good, for they are      all locked. I tried to open       doors, but they would not op      en. The windows are dark an       d shuttered and I can't see inside anywhere, I can't tell where I am. Every side street branching off into darkness. I am lost. Lost in a mercurial city.

I ran from t                                        hat deformed person in the cathe      dral. I ran from them and didn't look back. Perhaps that was bad                               of me. Perhaps they did not wish me harm      at all. But I took one look at them at felt such revulsi on,                                        such vileness, I could not help but run. Why did I feel in th at way, like I did? I do not know. I just ran. I ran down corridors and hallways, rushing through doors, not looking where I was running, not looking at all.

And now I am      lost. I cannot find my room. Once, I would have been able to turn      the corner and see it; now, I can only see more empty buildings, m      ore flickering streetlights, more dark alleyways that seem to conv                                        ey danger. I don't know why, but this place, this city doesn't feel like it used to feel. It doesn't feel safe anymore. It doesn't feel right. It feels...

I cannot des      cribe how it is making me feel. This place, this city. Everyw      here I turn now, it seems like it is turning me away, pushing me a      way. I have seen no more department stores, no more Italian rest                                       aurants, no more movie theaters. No more life. Just dark buildings, their edges as sharp as blades, their windows opaque, their doors firmly shut and locked.

Is this my fault?                               Or did A do something? When they         killed their monster, did that         change the city some         how? Or does it simply respond         to my own emotions?         When I was hungry, it led me to         a restaurant. When I panicked,                                 it became a place of panic, a place of blind fear. If I calm my self down, will it turn back into a place that feels exciting? Will I find my room then? Or will I just wander this city forever, searching for something that no longer exists? What am I doing? What am I going to do? -- Sam Norton.

In which A is A

I followed A from our meeting place, staying behind them just enough so that they couldn't see me (or perhaps they could and were just humoring me). Finally, they turned a corner and I glimpsed them talking to someone. A woman who looked like she was around middle age. I could barely hear the conversation, but the older woman knelt down and seemed to be staring up at A reverently. Perhaps A's tactics had worked on someone else.


After about ten minutes, A walked away from the older woman and through a doorway. I rushed past the woman (who was still kneeling) and pushed the doorway open again and went through.


I found myself inside a large cathedral. There were rows and rows of pews with ornate designs on the ends. I rushed past them and the large stained glass windows, not even bothering to look up at them. I could no longer see A, they had vanished. I rushed to the other end of the church where the large double doors were and pushed them open slightly.


Outside, I could see there was a wide street. I saw the back of a woman, but then I heard the loud crack of a gunshot and I looked beyond the woman to where A stood. At first I thought they had shot a mannequin, it looked so strange. But then the mannequin started to crumble, turning to ash, the ash falling on A like rain.


A raised their hands, as if making a grand speech. I could barely make out the words they were saying. "-dreams, come unto reality. Behold the slain beast..." There was a rustling behind me and I turned, but nothing was there. I looked back down at A. "Watch, as I wield the future," they were saying, "as a musician wields his instrument." The rustling returned and again I turned, but there was nothing. I looked back through the barely open door and heard the end of A's speech. "The new world is closer now then it ever has been. This is it. This is my victory." And then they descended into hysterical laughter.


There was a sound behind me, the sound of shuffling feet, so finally I turned, fully expecting it to be nothing at all. But there was someone. They crawled on the ground, their face and hands hideously deformed. They looked at me with shock and then malice and rasped, "Let me in."


I ran out of the double doors. A and the woman were gone. All that was left was a pile of ashes on the ground. I ran down the street, away from the church, as fast as I could.


Sam Norton

Diary Entry: Sinner

Yesterday, God's very Angel spoke with me. It was a beautiful creature who showed me another of my sinful kind. A great battle was to take place today. A demon would fall a fallalafall. I was not worty worthy my prayers were not to be enough. I was allowed to for pray to the angel I was not allowed to watch the demon fall. I watched. The windows let me watch.

"Passing"

My heart is racing, but the beast has past.


After my last post, I felt opened that door, and found another. I drove myself to walk through each door that came in my way; unlike every other time when I have wandered this maze of bricks and mortar, I felt as if there was something driving me. That I was approaching my goal, although I knew not where my goal was. Each door confronted me with a new land that I had not traversed.


The first door led me to a beautiful fountain; water soared high into the sky, before tumbling back into the pool, only to be subjected to the fountain's function. Even the grey backdrop to this did not remove it from my mind; I only saw it for a brief moment, before I remained on my course and went through the next door.


There, I saw a supermarket - that's what my head tells me it was. Empty rows of unstacked shelves, followed by yet more. This felt almost poignant. Did this impart some distant memory into my mind? I don't know, but I kept walking; a door with the words "Staff Only" written upon it was the one I pushed open, to find myself back onto the city streets once more. I kept walking; these were the environments I felt at home with. The concrete city-scape which had enclosed me when A was near, protected me and pulled me away from them.


Walking through another door brought me into a church, or what seemed like one; no, a temple. A majestically large place, with figures cut from stone stood on pedestals. They looked down at me, hoods over their faces; their hands stood out firm, as if giving a speech. There were no seats and no people to want to sit in them; I walked up to the altar, and ran a hand across it. Unfamiliar symbols were cut into it, as if worshipping some unknown god, forgotten in times long since past for me. I looked up; the roof looked so very far away. A colossal dome, stretching up to the sky. There were paintings, but I could not truly comprehend them, really; I can't really explain this.


Remembering the temple, I can almost feel as if I am forgetting things I thought that I'd never forget there. The stained glass windows were a true majesty of design, yet I cannot even remember the faces on them. It's a shame.


Nevertheless, I soon found myself pulled to exit through a side-door, but I found myself forced to stop, for I found A beyond it.


Not A in any way I had seen them before, though. But the face still struck terror into my heart; even when they looked sad, they had been able to hurt me before. I kept my distance, but noted the person before me.


Their hood was down, their face revealed. Their blackened attire, which I had not seen them without, remained as it always had; immaculate and preserved. Not one inch of skin exposed. I looked around the room; they were sat on the chair, facing a door that I had not been through. As if this place was merely an extension of the temple, windows of stained glass (although not as beautiful as those outside) remained fitted, A's face outlined against one of them.


And such a face; I've not clearly seen it before. Prematurely aged, to be sure; I could see scars, both old and new, cut into it. Their nose, long and hooked, completed their face's outline. Although I could see it perfectly, I could still not be sure as to whether I was looking at a male or female face. Hah, a typical story. Clean but messy hair adorned their head, going down to their shoulders; I don't know what the style is, but I could see that it was not groomed; brown hair that had gone to grey in recent times, to be sure. At a table between them and I, I saw two things; a knife and a handgun. I'm an expert in neither field, but I'm sure that either would be sufficient to end my life.


I'm not sure what compelled me to memorise that; perhaps what they said next.


"The time that is coming," they said, in a tone that I did not recognise from that mouth. A tone that seemed... contemplative. "It is one time in which the time inside this place and the time outside it come together. On both inside and out, it shall be the winter solstice. I can imagine this time a year ago; a time of hope and of happiness. And of longing, at least for me. I was hoping then, like I had never hoped before.


"I wanted the nightmare to end. For it all to cease and to be done and forgotten. I wanted my past to leave me; to fade. I wanted a hero to rise up and defeat the monster... I saw the golden dream that others held and held it myself. In my silence, I prayed as hard as anyone else did.


"It was not enough. The dream was just that: in the morning, my nightmare haunted my waking hours, the dream extinguished. The world had lied to me; the world had led me astray; the world was wrong. I had followed hope, and hope brought me to crushing despair. I abandoned the companion that I had acquired; I severed the loose ends from my past; I moved on. I had to move on, lest I collapse into the ruins that surrounded me.


"I lost my way. I wandered in the darkness, hunting for a light. A guide, to show me the way. And for all my searching, I found nothing. I kept going so that I did not stop. Every step brought me no closer to my goal, but I knew that my goal was an impossibility. But stopping would have meant that everything I had done, every sin that I had committed, was worth naught. I told myself that the dream wasn't over yet, that if I didn't stop, the flame of hope would rekindle into a neverending blaze that would consume the past.


"In my head, there were words begging to be let go; I couldn't tell anyone. A thousand words, a thousand confessions. If I kept them close, I could control them; if I let go, I would be carried by them to a place that I might not want to go. I wanted to be myself again. I wanted to command my own fate; to go where I wanted.


"I met people who were trapped in the nightmare with me. We bonded and shared our feelings; each face, I couldn't forget. They were pulled into the darkness of the night, all of them. They all went, you could say. They were there, and then they were gone. Perhaps, in another life, I would have wept for them. I merely stared into the darkness and burned with anger. I was being forced to dance in another's palm, made to play the part of a puppet. But it's not the same now.


"I don't know what changed. Perhaps something else took me in; something else took my strings and is still playing my strings as expertly as any puppeteer. But something snapped. I shook myself from my fear and from my despair; I rose up, and climbed higher then I ever had.


"The dream wasn't done, not yet." A grim smile crossed A's face, as something appeared in their eyes. Tears? "I still felt that call to action, echoing across time. Anger may have worked then, but now I knew that I could not wait for a hero. Now, I was strong enough; waiting would solve nothing. The thousand words could wait, as could the thousand confessions. A hero would not come, so I would become the hero that everyone awaited. The mantle was thrust towards me, so I wore it with pride."


I stood in the room's corner, awkwardly. Were they trying to convey more half-truths? Or was this someone who had not talked from their heart for too long, who were now just looking for an excuse to dump them on the nearest passer-by? Nevertheless, they did not seem to want to stop.


"I had purpose and I had drive. Even if it meant forsaking my fellow man, I had a calling; the greatest calling of all, perhaps. And so, I did what I did. And finally, it has all come... to this."


A's hand grasped the gun on the table firmly; hand around the grip, finger on the trigger. They shifted their grip, examining it with a form of wistfulness that I'd not seen in those eyes before. "Before, I felt afraid of the future. Now... I still am, I think." A relaxed grin crossed the lips. "But this time, it's something that I have constructed. I have done all I can. I control myself now; my fate goes where I command it. I progress ever-further into the future. I cannot stop the beast I have let loose, but it's a beast I've wanted to ride."


A turned to me, placing the gun into a holster on their hip, and picking the knife up and hiding it on their person. The eyes pierced my soul; I felt some solidarity with this person, monstrous though they were. "It's almost time, you know," they said, pointing towards the unopened door. "Beyond that door is the new world. A world of harmony and order; of freedom and passion. It's a world that I've always wanted to see, and it's the world we'll soon be in. The whole world will become like that one, one day." They stood up, and walked towards it. They placed a hand on the ornate handle, and pushed it, just slightly.


"Come with me. Come to the new world. The door will always be open."


Pushing it open, they walked through, to a faraway world, perhaps.


Some of me wants to look at A in a new light. It's far drowned out by the rest of me, who realises that this person who has known fear just loves to inflict it on me. How could I feel anything but contempt for such a beast?


I'll follow them to this 'new world', and view it for the sham it is.

In which I have a revelation

I was inside my room trying to sleep, when I realized what had happened. A had broken my connection to the world and what was I doing? I was hiding. I was hiding like they said I was.

So I stood up and opened the door and I walked outside. The roads were wavy and they all led to an intersection where there was this little garden and A was waiting for me.

"Come out to play?" they said. Their face was uncovered and it looked old and scarred. "Do you believe in me yet?"

"Believe in what?" I asked. "You are you, as you said. I don't believe that you're a god. I believe...that you exist."

"Good enough," they said.

"Why is it so important," I asked, "that I believe in you?"

"I'm going to face a monster soon," they said. "A monster who exists because people believe it exists. I'm going to kill it because in this place, I exist like it does."

"A monster?" I said. "You brought me here just to help kill a monster?"

And then A said something that shook me. "I didn't bring you here." They looked around and then said, "I've gotta go. Got some people to meet before the big day." They turned and walked away. "See you soon."

And so I followed them. I'm following them right now. Either they don't know I'm behind them or the city is somehow keeping me hidden, I don't know. But I'm going to continue following them until I see who they meet and how they leave.

And then I won't be hiding any longer.

Sam Norton

Diary Entry: Peeeeeoplepeoplepeoplepoepel

Alright. Wow. So, it's been a few days. I've taken my camera out, uploaded those pictures, lost those pictures, tried again... But...


Okay, skipping right to it.


I SAW PEOPLE.


That's right. People. PEOPLE. Wow, that word looks weird. P E O P L E peoplepeople


Word's lost all meaning. Regardless. I saw two of them. One was a woman for sure. She was dressed kinda funny. The other... Imagine an amalgam of some of the most important people peeeople people you know and then remove any individuality. I can't even tell you if it's a boy or a girl. It saw me. It's coming this way.


People p-e-o-p-

"Phobia"

I was shaken from my blissful reverie (ah, how good it feels to remember those moments of bliss! As if my soul itself had come into harmony with my body; I felt myself expanding into the world around me, as free as a bird. My mind was no barrier to my happiness, merely a tool through which my soul could find happiness) by a now all-too familiar voice.


"Hey, you!" It called, cloaked in mirthful laughter. I opened my eyes, but remained sat on the floor, my legs crossed. The light shone into A's darkened hood to reveal two grey eyes, cloaked in an aged face. Their attire looked no worse for wear then it had before, but there seemed to be some dancing glee in their eyes now, as if some victory had been achieved. "What're you doing, just sitting 'round?"


"Go away," I said. I didn't need to talk to them any more; I'd found my happiness.


"No way," they laughed. "I just wanted a little chat with you."


"I don't want to talk to you. We both know it'll only end in bruises."


A simple shrug of the shoulders from my tormentor. "Now, now, my dear," they said, moving towards me. I jumped to my feet, my boots firmly smacking the ground beneath my feet. "I am not so cruel as to harm my dear sister." Their face became obscured from view, thanks to my changed position. Nevertheless, I think they could see the shock that briefly ran across my face. "What, you don't remember?"


"No..."


"Well, well, well," they said, giggling. "How's this for a family reunion? Why, I can only wonder as to why you didn't look like you recognised me!"


This had to be a lie. A trap. Something to trick me; this was a thing that could not be. But I really could not remember anything of my past. If I believed A, I could find the truth; whether they were truthful or false. But if it were true... what would that make me? A monster, like they were? But... no. It didn't matter.


"I don't have a family," I responded.


"Incorrect. You lost them, but now you have found them anew; you have found them in me. I am all the family you could ever aspire to; all the family that you deserve."


Something in me rang true. But something else felt revolted; I deserved better then... someone like that. Someone who took my trust and turned it into a weapon against me. They could not be my family. But...


I ran. I couldn't stop myself running. Just... away; down streets, just going away from that hooded figure who knew so much about me. I didn't turn, I could only listen to the laughter that escaped from them. The laughter that still rings in my ears now.


I went through door after door, and soon found myself in another locked room. I recall running through a corridor built into a skyscraper which flew high over the city (although I have no idea as to how I scaled such a height in so little time); a glass wall to my right, I looked over to see myself so very high above the city, the rooftops little more then paving stones at this height, with the occasional skyscraper soaring above the landscape. In the far distance, I could see only fog; above me, an empty sky. A truly empty sky - no sun, no clouds, only this dismal grey feeling. The concrete jungle of the city below was almost reassuring in comparison, compared to the overhanging feeling of melancholy. I would like to call the pathetic fallacy out, but I felt no such melancholy; panic rose within me, but only panic. No wistfulness, no longing for the past.


Perhaps my past is now a closed door, much like the one that lies before me. I want to think at it more, but in the meantime, I am confronted with another of those puzzles. The sky-high corridor ended in another door; when I entered, I found myself in another of the puzzle rooms. Two doors, one locked, one leading the way I came. There is no safe... at least in the conventional sense. On the desk, however, was a chess set, along with a note, saying #004.


The desk was backed against a wall, with the white side facing my direction, with a bench for me to sit on. The board appears to be electronic, and also magnetic; I cannot lift the pieces from the board, only drag them. When I move a piece, there is a harsh buzzing noise, and the piece returns to it's original location.


I have no knowledge of chess notation, but I am familiar with the concept of a chess puzzle. In one move, I have to place the black king into check (or at least set up a favourable move on the next turn, if the puzzle is a two-move matter). Given that I cannot show it to you, I will persevere and solve it on my own.


At least this puzzle distracts me from what's in my head.

In which I notice graffiti

I keep on seeing graffiti when I look outside. It must be A that is writing it, right? Who else can it be?


I saw them on the city's moving streets, like BurmaShave ads, changing one after another.


I'M GONNA FADE AWAY
I'M GONNA FACE AWAY
I'M GONNA FLY AWAY
I'M GONNA DIE TODAY


I'm afraid to leave my room now, afraid even to look outside.


Sam Norton

In which there is a knock on the door

There was a short story published a while ago in Thrilling Wonder Stories. It was by Fredric Brown - I like his stories. It was only two sentences, but to me, it was quite chilling:

The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door...

I don't know how long I have been in this city, but I know in all my time here I have not seen another living soul. Not until today.


There was a knock on the door.


Two simple knocks. That was it. I thought that perhaps I would open the door and there would be another package from A. Perhaps another riddle or another Biblical quotation to mull over. I went and opened the door.


There was someone outside.


Slowly, I stepped outside, one hand clutching my camera. Was this the elusive A? They wore a completely black outfit, including a hood that covered their face. "Hello, Hider," they said. I couldn't even tell from their voice if they were male or female - it sounded strange, the pitch a little too high for a man's voice, too low for a woman's.


"Why do you call me that?" I asked. "That's not my name."


"But it's who you are," they said. "You hide. You hide behind your name, behind your words, behind your pictures. One mustn't hide, not from oneself."


"Are you A?" I asked.


"I am," they said. "I am A and A am I. To deny it would be to deny that I exist. I exist, thus A equals A. I am that I am."


"Now you're quoting the Bible again," I said. "You're not God."


"I'm not?" A said. They titled their head and looked at me. "Then how is it I can come and go and you cannot? You are trapped here and I am free." They stepped closer, their feet making crunching sounds on the ground. "I have given you food and water. I have given you technology. And what have you given me? Disbelief. I don't think that's very fair, do you?"


"If you're a god, you're an awfully capricious one," I said.


"Of course," they said, stepping closer. "What else would the God of Humanity be? Capricious and willful and indifferent and cruel. All the qualities that humanity posssesses in abundance. But the God of Humanity would also be powerful and strong and able to adapt quickly." They stepped closer still and I raised the hand that held the camera. I was going to snap a picture, but they grabbed the camera out of my hand. "Now, now. I have given and I shall take away. Besides, you were wasted on it, taking snapshots of stone lions and fountains. You could have shown people the enormity of the City, the brilliance of this place, but you didn't. You don't deserve a camera." They dropped the camera on the ground and before I could try and stop them, they stomped on it, crushing the camera under their boot.


"What," I said, unable to comprehend what they had just done. My camera, which I had taken everywhere, was now cracked and broken on the ground.


"I did say that I was cruel." A leaned in closer and I could make out the shape of their face underneath their hood - round and thin, a face like any other. "Do you believe now?" A asked. They turned and started to walk away. "You should. Or else the next thing I step on might be you."


They opened a door and step through. I stepped forward, but the door closed and then vanished itself.


I kneeled down and carefully picked up all the pieces of the broken camera. Looking at them, I knew I could never repair it - it was so complex, if I had been younger, I might have thought it was magic. I picked up each piece and cupped them in my hands.


Then I walked back to my room and sat down.


I sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door.


I jumped, then placed the broken camera on the table and walked towards the door. I opened it carefully, but there was nobody on the other side. But there was a note stuck to the door, a piece of spiral notebook that looked like it had been ripped haphazardly. On it was written:

A STORM IS THREATENING
I AM GOING TO FADE AWAY.

I looked at the note, then closed the door again.


Sam Norton

In which I receive a reward

There was a large metal box beside the lion today. On top was a square filled with letters, like the letters I type on this machine. I entered the letters B-A-S-E-B-A-L-L and the box unlocked itself. Inside was food -- packages of crackers, dried fruit, beef jerky, and bottle after bottle of water.

And near the bottom of the box was a piece of paper on which was written: MARK 5:36.

As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken, he saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, Be not afraid, only believe.

Curious. Of all the Biblical passages A could have chosen, they chose this one. This is about the healing of a dead woman. Am I...dead? Is this some sort of purgatory?

No. No, that's a plot from a bad pulp story. Besides, there are plenty of other weird passages from Mark 5. I mean, that's the chapter where Jesus comes across a wild man who cannot be bound in chains or fetters and, when he asks him his name, the man replies, My name is Legion: for we are many.

Sam Norton

In which I find more reading material

I just looked out my window and saw a lake. It was in the middle of the city, but I could see no streets leading to it, no paths that ended at its shore.

I just got my camera, but now I'm looking again and the lake is gone. Replaced by a row of buildings, brick and mortar.

Earlier today, I received another message from A. At least, I think it was A. It was different from the others. Not a Biblical quotation this time. A riddle.

First, I found this slipped underneath my door:

It's a copy of one of my early stories. Someone took an image of it and then duplicated it another page. The sheet was fine - not rough like the pages of the digests I write for.

And then on the back was this:

Who is Joe? And who is the Man in the Mask? Or is this riddle simply hypothetical in nature?

And why is A suddenly leaving riddles? Strange.

My food supply is running low. Will they leave me more food somewhere or do I need to answer this riddle first? The more things A leaves me, the more I don't understand them or why they are doing this.

Sam Norton

In which I read again about John Sunlight

Another message from A.

I was trying to write Down the Labyrinthine Ways when I heard the knock. From what I could tell from my excursions outside my room, I was the only one in the City. And yet there was a knock on the door.

I opened it. There was nobody there, just the darkened street, now lined with wooden garages, each one painted white and marked with a number.

There was something in front of Number 4.

Perhaps it was because "4" kind of looks like "A," but they had left something for me. Something I remembered from my childhood.

An issue of Doc Savage and a blank domino. I remembered reading my old issues of Doc Savage, hiding in my covers when I was supposed to be asleep, my fingers achingly traveling from word to word as I became enraptured by the world of Doc Savage.

And I remembered this issue. The issue about John Sunlight. The only bad guy to ever be Doc Savage's equal. Oh, how he frightened me. "It seemed from the first that John Sunlight had been put on this earth so that men could be afraid of him." Men and little girls, as it were.

I flipped through the pages, looking to see whatever message A had left here. The book wasn't exactly like the one I had when I was a kid - it seemed like this one was a reproduction. The copyright said it was from "2006." And then I found what I was looking for:

"1 SAM 15:32."

1st Samuel 15:32. And Agag came unto him delicately. And Agag said, Surely the bitterness of death is past.

Maybe I should explain this for all of you without a Christian background. Agag was the King of Amalekites. God instructed King Saul to "completely destroy" the Amalekites; however, Saul spared Agag. Samuel saw this as a defiance of God's will. So he took Agag and cut him up into bits.

I don't know what to make of this. Should I be worried that A will cut me up? Am I Agag? Or am I Samuel? Should I obey A is if they were God?

And what about the domino? It has no dots on it - it's just blank. What does that mean?

At least I have some reading material now that isn't gibberish. Although the last time I read this story, I had such horrible nightmares.

Sam Norton

"Puzzles"

After my last post, I continued to do what I had done; wander. The ground is too hard to allow me to rest comfortably, regardless of what I do to attempt to cushion myself. I kept walking; kept waiting for salvation.


And I found it; no, I found something. A door, slightly ajar. I staggered over to it; but before I could do so, my leg gave way, and I found myself sprawled on the floor. The laptop is damaged, but not broken. My digestive system did not take quite so kindly to the sudden jolt, and I soon found myself... forcefully evacuating my stomach, you could say. It seems that my time in this place has largely been a conga line of injuries and traumas. Ugh.


After dragging myself (and the laptop) to the door, I climbed inside; the sweet aroma of food danced through my nostrils. I didn't even know what it was, but I was ravenous all the same. The room I was in contained a plate of food (which I wolfed down without even comprehending what it was), and some support to bind to my leg to allow it to heal. After doing so (quite inexpertly), I turned my attention to the last item on the desk before me, and the rest of the room around me.


On the desk was a single sheet of A4 paper, along with a single, black biro pen. The room is mostly bare, apart from the table, the chair I was sitting on and a safe next to a door on the far side of the room. The door is looked, with it's keyhole exposed. The safe is not too large; the door of it is largely composed of an alphabet and numberpad. I'd call it a "keyboard", but it's not arranged in a QWERTY fashion. It's laid out in alphabetical order, and arranged like so.


A B C D E F G H I
J K L M N O P Q R
S T U V W X Y Z 1
2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0


That looks about right, I think. As I examined it, I heard a noise coming from... somewhere. I think, in hindsight, that it may have come from the safe itself.


"Greetings, Paragon," the voice said; A. "You are suffering, my child; so I shall help you, as I have helped you." A dry chuckle. "But giving everything to those who do nothing is the way of despair, even for beings as patient and caring as I. If you succeed, you shall live. If you fail..." Another chuckle, this one far more sinister. "Well, let us not dwell on that."


There was a brief pause. "The aim of the game is quite simple; the consequences, too, are simple, as earlier outlined. You will have-" and there was a sudden burst of static here - "to solve this little puzzle of mine; you may seek outside assistance through the blog. The puzzle is as follows. You may wish to write this down."


There was another pause as I grabbed the pen and placed it over the paper, writing down what they said. "Riddle me this. (6-2-26-18-2-1-18 6-18-1-17-6 14 16-5-12 19-2-5 21-18-25-3) (2-9-18-5-25-12 10-2-5-5-22-18-17 19-2-5 7-21-18-22-5 6-14-19-18-7-12 2-19 16-2-8-5-6-18) (6-2 10-21-14-7 6-2-5-7 2-19 26-18-6-6-14-20-18 10-2-8-25-17 7-21-18-12 6-18-1-17)? The challenge begins now."


 Naturally, they read the numbers/hyphens/brackets out; but blow me if I'm going to actually type them all out. And, first things first, I am totally stumped. Hm... they said that I could access outside help via the blog, which is this... could I get some help through the comments, I wonder?

In which a message is left, but the meaning is unknown

"A" left me another message. At least, I think it was A. They didn't sign their name this time.

I don't know how they can navigate this city so well, but they appear to be able to know where my room will be at a given moment. Or perhaps it was merely luck that the message appeared where it did.

Today (well, tonight, actually, since the sun didn't rise as it usually did), I opened my door and saw a hedgerow. And in the center of the hedgerow was an envelope.

Seeing as the envelope bore my nom-de-plume from this journal, I decided to open it. Inside was a card with writing on the front and the back.

At first I was confused. The envelope was addressed to me, but the name on the card was "John." And was the date of November 26th important?

And then something clicked within my mind. John 11:26.

And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?

This fits with A's other "believe in me" note, though I'm not sure why they are now using a Bible quote. Are they asking if I believe in them? Well, I believe they exist. What else do they want me to believe in?

Sam Norton

"Perfection"

Since my arrival in this chaotic space, I found my senses dulling themselves; my hearing was failing, I was losing my ability to see. I was losing my ability to balance; I did not hunger, thirst or feel tired. But I can now safely say that those feelings are gone. I feel hunger, thirst, tiredness... and pain. I can't forget the pain.

From my last post, I closed the laptop, picked it up and pursued the ghostly figure who I had seen from the corner of my eye. It did not take me long to find the first dead end I had encountered since I had entered the maze. The place had been a straight line; white walls and white floors, all moving forwards. Twisting around corners, yes, but never splitting into two.

I shrugged; likely, I'd missed a turning at some point or another. Nothing to be done about it. I turned around, and walked, face-first, into a wall. I stumbled for a moment, as if I'd suddenly taken a stiff drink of my favourite vodka. I shook my head, and looked around. Instead of the path being how it was (which is to say, a straight line from the last corner to where I was now), it had changed. The path to my behind no longer existed, but a path to my new left did.

I sighed, and shook my head. I walked down the new path that awaited me, until I came upon a flight of stairs. This place had elevation, at least; I went down them at a brisk pace, until I found myself in front of a door. Nothing special about this door, really; I attempted to push it open, and was surprised to find that it didn't budge a single inch when I did so. It was practically impassable; perhaps I'd taken another wrong turning?

Oh, no, no, no. It was a pull-door. My mistake.

I pulled it open, and stepped into the street; the temperature around me instantly went through the floor on it's way down. I felt as if I'd been teleported to the Antarctica, and that an iceberg was working it's way up my spine. As if attempting to defrost the iceberg, I took a step back; this time, with a caution that turned out to be unjustified. The door was there, but closed; I put a hand on the door. I pushed against a door that did not give away.

I looked down the door's side; it had become locked. I had not heard it lock, but I had been rather concerned with the matter of half the Arctic trying to work it's way down my trousers. I sighed, and looked around in the street; fog surrounded me, limiting my vision. I shivered, and attempted to find a place to get back into the mild climate that appeared to be the inside here, since the outside stood a considerably high chance of meeting the Abominable Snowman.

As I walked across the street (and that is what it was; I walked off a pavement, across two lines painted with yellow paint, and onto the road), I found a shape coming into focus; a tall building, perhaps an apartment block. But as it did so, I could see a dark marking; upon it, black paint sloshed into a circle. The same shade of paint used, for a single letter within the circle, it's points touching the circle. A.

A in a circle, huh? Is that not what an anarchy symbol is? I pondered on this for a moment, before stopping. I could hear something behind me.

I called: "Who's there?" I turned around, staring into the fog.

A reply: "Me." A corny reply, to be sure. What had a distinct lack of corn was the sudden rapidness that the footsteps gained; I turned my head to observe, just as I felt a distinct sense of pain, as I was tackled to the cold floor.

It is curious, is it not, that I'd be able to give such a recollection of a scene which, to be honest, went by far too quickly for me to really remember it. I am as surprised as you, let me assure you.

From the floor, I felt a foot rest on top of my head, as my attacker got to their feet. The foot lifted, and then it fell. Ouch.

I startled, then spoke: "who are you?"

The foot did not rest on my head again, as the voice spoke: "why, I am myself, and none other, as I said. Weren't you-" I felt a foot-stomp on my back. "Listening~?"

"I was... but that doesn't answer my question." Despite my aforementioned coldness, the temperature had stabilised again, While I was in a rather bad position to judge (what with being quite literally under someone's feet), I did not feel the icy chill that I once had; the mildness of the buildings had come over me. I could feel something warm on my face, but ignored it.

The figure sighed; I heard them crouching down, but couldn't see anything but their shadow. "Let me answer that question, then. I am the shadow that creeps from your feet; I am the little voice that says do it." A giggle from the figure, and then a return to a seriousness as chilly as the atmosphere had been. "The aspiration to greatness; the desire to be that person; the urge to consume all that there is because you can." And then I felt a fist hit the back of my head, driving my noise into the tarmac once more. Ouch. "I am human nature incarnate! The apex of what it means to be human!"

I felt the hand that had smashed my face down grab my hair, and drag my head backwards, until I was looking into a face. A face that looked older then it should be; greying hair, wrinkling features, on a face that could not exceed twenty-five. But in their eyes, I could see a spark of vitality and youth; but the spark was outweighed by the roaring fire of malice. "Some call me an Aspect; some categorise me; others still call me an Elemental. But some, some call me a Fear. I like that~!"

"My name is A, and I am the Fear of Humanity."

As they were largely the ravings of someone who was clearly a lunatic, I paid little heed to them; I was more concerned by the slightly-tasty liquid coming into my mouth. The warm liquid that had come across my face; unsurprisingly, I was bleeding. Well, it's unsurprising for me in one sense, but surprising in another; this was the first time I'd really felt alive since I entered this place. But that was an aside; I think the contorted face above me was concerned more for itself then for me.

"What? Has my beauty scared you shitless, little human~?"

I tried to gargle a reply, but was unable to; a spurt of blood come out. The figure looked at me with some combination of disgust and mortification. They released my head; I gratefully took the urge to lean forward, and, uh. Shall we say, "vomit"? That's a bit graphic, but it works. So, yes: I took the urge to lean forward and noisily vomit onto the floor.

I didn't hear or see them leave, and didn't particularly care to. I think I crawled away from the pile of my own... releases and over to where I had dropped the laptop, and fell asleep there, in the middle of the street.

I awoke only moments ago; I typed this post up as soon as I could. The apartment blocks with the anarchy symbol have vanished, as have the... releases. My body aches with pain; my nose is no longer running with blood, although I cannot imagine that my face is clean, based on what I can feel. None of the buildings on this street have an open door; I am going to try and stand now, and then find somewhere to sleep. If I find a single soft spot, I shall be very happy for it. I shall try the building I left yesterday first, but I hold little hopes that it has unlocked itself.

Something to eat, too, would not go amiss.

In which I go shopping, feel hunger, and find a note

God, I could kill for a cigarette. That's the only thing I've been unable to find.

I've started to explore this city and noticed something odd. Well, odder. The city seems to be providing me with everything I need to live here.

For example, as I walked out of my room (I'm getting use to thinking of it as "my" room - is that bad?), I wondered if I would have to stay in the same clothes for the entire time I was here. At that exact moment, I saw across the street a department store, it's windows filled with mannequins displaying all sorts of clothing. The sign above the department store declared in large block letters that it was called "LACUNARY'S".

Inside was aisle after aisle of every article of clothing I could possibly wear. I'm afraid I may have gone a bit overboard in my selection, as I had never been able to afford such outfits, so I ended up piling article after article of clothing into a basket and then whisking them away back to my room.

Perhaps I was lucky even to find my room again, though, since the city seems to change around me. At one point, after my third trip, I realized that I was quite famished and when I turned around, LACUNARY'S had changed. There were no more mannequins in the storefront, no more outfits -- instead, the sign declared that it was "FUGUE'S GENUINE ITALIAN RESTAURANT". The windows had enticing pictures of pasta and pizzas and, as I cautiously opened the front doors, my mouth began to water at the smell of fresh baked dough and tomato sauce.

The smell was a lie, however -- or perhaps a delusion of my own fevered imagination -- because within the restaurant I found no pizza, no pasta, nothing except empty tables and chairs. Besides, who was to make the food anyway? As for as I could tell, there was no one else in this city except for me.

At that thought, however, I heard a rattling sound. It was coming from the kitchen area of the restaurant. I didn't know whether I should run towards the sound or away from it. I eventually compromised and opened the kitchen doors slowly, trying to see if there was anyone there. I saw no one, so I stepped inside and took a look around. Still no one -- except there was a cabinet that was ajar.

Inside the cabinet, I found an array of dry and canned foods (along with the helpful addition of a can-opener) which can probably last me a few weeks or possibly even months if I ration them out. Tucked beneath one of the cans of food was this note:

You are not dreaming. You are wide awake.

This is a city of the lost, the fear of being lost and abandoned and forever wayward. It likes you now. It enjoys playing with you, like a cat enjoys playing with a mouse. But in the end, it will consume you like it has consumed so many others.

I can protect you. I can provide for you.

All you have to do is believe in me.

A

I have read this note a dozen times now. I packed all the food away in my room (I have no idea how I am still able to find it -- all the streets have changed, yet whenever I try to find it, I always see the door to my room). I do not know if this "A" person is telling the truth or whether I should trust them. I do not know if I shall continue to find food or if when this supply runs out, I'll just simply starve.

The only thing I know, right now, is that I want a cigarette badly.

Sam Norton