My eyes twitch. Ugh, my head... it feels so fuzzy. How did I arrive here?
I mumbled this to myself while laying flat on the cold concrete floor. The dim light flickering above me cast long shadows across the dust-ridden hallway. I forced my eyes fully open, still disoriented, only to find myself inside my old school building.
Milano Livings: "Strange? This is my previous school building..."
I muttered that under my breath and sighed. Great, it's almost evening. What in the actual world... how did I end up here? Something about this place feels off—too familiar yet bizarrely wrong.
"Nevermind," I thought, trying to ground myself. "I'll just ask the watch guard on the main door to let me out."
I pushed myself up from the floor and turned. My footsteps echoed—loud, far too loud—in a building this empty. The environment felt eerily silent, not the kind of quiet you expect in a closed school but an almost intentional hush, like the walls were listening.
I kept walking, finally making it to the watch guard's cabin. But he wasn't there. Strange.
"He's usually here at this hour... Did something happen?"
I looked around. The school's main living room entrance was wide open, something that usually never happens. Maybe I could get to the janitor's room upstairs and retrieve the spare keys.
I started toward the school's main living area. Each step felt like it echoed longer than the last. The sound bounced unnaturally across the walls, folding into the thick silence. That same sickening feeling in my gut began to return, but I discarded it.
Inside the main living room, everything seemed coated in a layer of gloom. It hadn't been cleaned in forever, or at least it gave that impression. The room was just like I remembered it: two black couches with tables placed in front of them, spaced with an eerie precision. To my left, the computer lab.
Out of curiosity, I walked into the lab. The monitors were still on. Windows XP? Time: 4:22 AM. Wait... what?
That can't be right. It was dusk outside. The time mismatch made me feel disoriented again. The humidity in the lab didn't help. The monitors buzzed softly, and one of them emitted that familiar Windows clackering sound—comforting once, now eerily nostalgic.
Milano: "What in the actual hell is going on here?"
I tried to open the internet browser. Maybe I could contact someone. But the network name was all jumbled symbols: ????;$?$??. That used to be 'Comp Lab 1' before. And the password? Useless. It didn't work. Every part of this place was fighting logic.
I finally said, "Yeah, seems like this place gives no break, honestly..."
Suddenly, a memory flickered.
Person 1 (in memory): "Milano, what if one day you ended up in a liminal place? What would you do?"
Well, guess what—this isn't a question anymore. I'm totally screwed.
CREAK.
I froze. A door creaking somewhere nearby. Yep, here it comes. Now a monster's going to jump out and end this weird trip.
I left the computer lab and entered a cross-section of the hallway: one long corridor split left and right, and ahead—stairs.
The creak came again. Right side.
I hesitated. My feet were shaky. I moved slowly toward the right hallway. The air thickened, heavy like molasses. I coughed. Something was really off.
I reached the classroom where the noise had come from. I braced myself—"AHH!"—but it was empty.
Faint blinking light from a faulty bulb cast rhythmic shadows. One desk had a notebook. Dust coated its surface.
I picked it up. Only one page.
4/22/2002.
In shaky ink: "Disobey the laws and you'll find yourself more miserable than ever. Things aren't as they seem. Looking for answers, Milano? We have them... but your time is running out..."
Suddenly—CLANK! A metallic object fell somewhere from the left hallway.
I looked back down at the notebook—empty. The text was gone.
I trembled.
"What the..."
I ran. I avoided the left hallway and took the stairs up to the second floor. Janitor's room. Just grab the keys and get out.
But no. The janitor's room was gone. In its place, a strange white door—beside the library.
Then... jazz music. Faint. From the music room.
I ignored it. This was too much.
I reached out for the white door handle.
??: "Hello, my dear... don't do it."
I turned sharply. Standing there—my old friend.
Milano: "Why are you..."
My eyes blurred. My knees buckled.
THUD.
I collapsed.