The Backrooms exist outside of space and time. They don't belong to any universe: they are the residue of reality, a place where mistakes, memories, and remnants of collapsed worlds converge. Everything that falls here—people, objects, or creatures—arrives by accident."The Backrooms don't create anything. They only take what the universe discards."The atmosphere is oppressive, humid, and charged with static electricity. The loneliness is palpable. The constant hum is more than a sound: it's a vibration of the place.The Glitch in RealityI opened the doors to leave the supermarket. My body remained upright for a few more seconds, but then it seemed to lose contact with reality and began to fall through solid objects. There was no pain or any sensation whatsoever. Only that, apparently, the end of my peculiar flight had come.I don't know how many difficulties this flight entailed, but it felt like a few tense seconds. My feet touched the surface and I barely managed to maintain my balance.The walls, a monotonous and dirty yellow, stretched out in all directions. Wallpaper peeling in places, revealing lingering dampness. The omnipresent, oppressive hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound filling the air, a stark contrast to the familiar silence of his apartment.What...? What the hell? he muttered under his breath.This was an unfamiliar place: endless interconnected rooms, a suspiciously stained carpet, and flickering lights that promised a migraine.This was real. The undeniably musty smell of something old assaulted his nostrils.Each breath left a metallic aftertaste in his throat. The constant hum wasn't just background noise: it vibrated in the air, seeped into his bones, resonated inside his skull like a million fluorescent bulbs about to explode.
Point of View (Thought)How did I end up here? The last thing I remember is buying snacks for game night, opening the market doors, and... then, darkness.I need to calm down. I start regulating my breathing, feeling my mind clear a little.The first thing I should do is check my belongings, ration my food, and find a way out. Although... I feel like I've been here before. This place feels unnervingly familiar.I search my pockets: my Xiaomi Note 12 phone, my wallet, and some keys with a small flashlight attached to the keyring. To my right rests a medium-sized, red, worn suitcase—the same one I use for shopping—with frayed fabric at the corners.I open it slowly, as if the noise might attract something. Inside: a lukewarm Coke, a bottle of water, two packages of crispy crackers, four chocolate bars, a bag of chips, and two large bags of nachos. It's not much, but it's enough for now.He's watching me: black shirt, military-style camouflage pants, and tactical boots, the same ones they wore during field exercises. On his right leg, a military-grade knife is attached with a strap; I unfasten it and take it out of its sheath.I hold it for a few seconds, watching the flickering light reflect off the blade. The reflection gives me back a cold, impersonal image... as if the steel were evaluating me.Suddenly, I find myself back on the training ground.A group of recruits formed a circle around a sparring match. Among them, a boy with black hair and silver eyes stood out. His fine, serious features, along with the scar on his right cheek, gave him an imposing air. He wore a black shirt, camouflage pants, and brown boots, and was about 5'10" tall.On the ground, a burly cadet with brown hair and some defined muscles lay unconscious after the sparring match. Around him, the other cadets applauded enthusiastically, celebrating the skill and discipline he had demonstrated.From the circle emerged a larger figure, his white hair combed back, his uniform immaculate. His footsteps resonated with authority. He approached me, a mixture of pride and sternness in his gaze."Cadet Jun, you did very well," he said, patting me on the back. A brief smile appeared on his face, warm but firm."Thank you very much, Commander," I replied, trying to contain my excitement."You've won. You were one of the best. As promised, this is your prize," he said, placing a small box in my hands.I opened it carefully. Inside lay a special military-grade knife, its sheath fitting perfectly, the metal gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the training windows.Fin's Point of ViewJun tucked his knife into his right side, ready for a swift draw if necessary.He finished organizing the rest of his supplies and started walking, his footsteps echoing strangely in the silence of the place. The whirring of the lights grew louder with each step, a constant vibrato seeping under his skin, a pressure that wasn't entirely unpleasant, but unsettling nonetheless. The fluorescent lights flickered intermittently, creating dancing shadows that seemed to come alive at the edges of his vision, and fleeting figures vanished as if staring directly at him. Each corridor seemed identical to the last, a monotony that was already beginning to gnaw at his sanity, an endless replication of a single, looping dream.Jun felt the tension. Each room, each identical corridor, was an invitation to paranoia. Loneliness gripped him to his bones. He felt like a character in his own horror movie, but without a script, unsure whether the director was benevolent or sadistic. The vastness of the hallway, the details of the stained carpet, and the peeling wallpaper were all there.His ragged breathing and serious, focused gaze contrasted sharply with the somber atmosphere of the place.He had been walking for what felt like several hours. Time in this place was a blurry illusion, with no windows to reveal day or night, only the intense light and the hypnotic hum. Jun had tried several routes, hugging the walls, checking every nook and cranny for any anomaly, an exit, anything that would break the uniformity.Hunger and thirst began to gnaw at him.Slowly, he approached a silent room. He looked around, making sure nothing was hidden in the corners, before starting to eat. He took his water bottle and a packet of crackers.He sat down, leaning his sword against the wall. While he rested for a few moments, he checked his military watch on his right wrist, keeping track of time and calculating his next moves.
I've been walking for four hours.I check my phone: no signal, but it still has 95% battery. I start searching through my files until I finally find what I'm looking for.A chill runs down my spine as I open the PDF saved in my documents:**"Backrooms: Guide to the Levels" — PDF**For a moment, my brain seems to shut down. Now I remember why this place feels so familiar. When I was fifteen, I heard about a famous creepypasta about infinite rooms, a glitch in reality, and worlds that ended here. I remember watching videos about it, downloading related files and videos.Even though it's been over three years, some things are still a bit blurry. I think I know. Where I am, and shit. I'm screwed.Why is this happening to me?Despair begins to creep in, not so much because of immediate danger, but because of the utter monotony and the realization of knowing exactly where I am. Was this my new home? Endless yellow corridors? The idea was both ridiculous and terrifying. My muscles are aching from the constant tension and lack of any real rest.I take a breath, trying to calm myself.Okay, I have to keep moving. This place is just playing tricks on me. I'm on **Level 0**:-----------------------------------Difficulty Level**Class 1**Partially SecureUnsecuredDevoid of Entities**Description:**Level 0 is the first level of the Backrooms, and it's likely the first one you'll encounter upon landing here, as it's one of the few levels accessible from the real world.It's an expansive, non-Euclidean space that resembles the back rooms of a retail store. All the rooms on Level 0 share similar surface features: faded monochrome yellow wallpaper, old, damp carpeting, scattered electrical outlets, and inconsistently placed fluorescent lights. Aside from these details, the uniformity and repetition create a sense of infinity.--
While I can't entirely trust this information, there's at least a glimmer of hope. Perhaps I can find one of the groups that help travelers.The MEG would be my best bet; I know they have a base on Level 1, more or less.I need to find a staircase, a door, or a solid wall to try for "no-clip."With renewed motivation, I got up and kept walking, focused on every detail of my surroundings, assessing the walls, the floor, and the corners of each corridor.I moved forward with measured steps, gauging the distance between walls and observing the patterns in the carpet and wallpaper. Every detail could be useful: a different stain, a crack in the wall, the erratic flickering of a fluorescent light. My Air Force training taught me to notice what others would overlook; here, that skill could mean the difference between making progress or getting lost forever.I began to mentally map the corridors, mentally marking every fork, every uneven wall. The corridors were repetitive, but not identical: small variations could hold clues.Whenever a shadow seemed to move at the edge of my vision, I remained calm and observed before reacting. There was no room for panic; uncontrolled fear would only attract trouble.After a while, I noticed: a small object illuminated the area. I cautiously walked toward it. As I moved forward, I adjusted the position of the knife on my right leg and tightened my backpack strap.As I continued walking, Jun turned his head, following the reflection. In a particularly dark corner, next to a mound of peeling wallpaper scraps, there was a faint glow. It wasn't the erratic flicker of a fluorescent light. It was something different: a metallic sheen, a promise of something tangible in this sea of immateriality. He approached cautiously.There, half-hidden beneath the debris and dust, lay a pistol. A basic model, somewhat rudimentary, perhaps an old Glock, but undeniably a firearm. The grip showed deep scratches, and the barrel had a light rust. It looked as if it had been abandoned, ownerless, which added a touch of mystery and a sense of unease.I examined it carefully, feeling the cold metal in my hand. For a moment, I found myself finding something like this in a place like this: tangible, real, dangerous... and completely out of context.Holding the pistol, I ran my hands over every detail carefully. The weight was light, lighter than I expected, and the cold metal gave me a strange sense of control. I checked the safety and the magazine; it seemed intact, although I couldn't be sure if it still had ammunition.A memory came to mind.The same man, with his silver hair combed back, stood in front of a classroom. His steady, serene gaze seemed to pierce the entire space.A gun is just a tool. True genius lies in how you use it... in your strategy.Those words echoed within me as I held the pistol in my hand. No matter the place, no matter the circumstances; discipline and planning would always be my best weapons.End of memory.My training prompted me to consider scenarios: hostile entities? Other lost travelers with dubious intentions? Every step in this place was a risk, and now I had an additional resource. The pistol wasn't a definitive solution, but it could give me an advantage if something unexpected appeared.I checked the weapon more carefully; the magazine held nine bullets.I felt the comforting weight of the pistol in my hand. It was a small amount of ammunition, but its mere presence, the simple act of holding it, instilled confidence in me.I continued walking, the pistol now feeling like an extension of my arm. I could smell the dampness and feel the vibration of the buzzing in my bones.The monotony of Level 0 began to play tricks on my mind. The identical hallways seemed to curve back on themselves. I tried to trace a wall with my thumb, stained by the carpet, but the material was too thick and old. I felt like a mouse in an experiment, trapped in a video game level in an endless loop."Does this place make any sense? Is there a pattern?" I asked the air, more to myself than to myself. "This is like an endless maze. A maze designed by a very, very boring architect."
Observe the details: the dirt, the wear and tear, the dampness. "Every anomaly is a clue," I told myself.I began examining the damp patches, the creases in the wallpaper, searching for any irregularity. That's when I heard it: a sound. It wasn't the whir of the lights, but something deeper, a subtle, barely perceptible dragging, coming from somewhere farther ahead.The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My heart pounded. I raised the pistol and pointed it down the empty hallway, my gaze steady and serious.The dragging grew a little louder, followed by a low whimper. Neither of them was human. I knew it instantly. This was different from the movies: no cuts, no stunt double.I moved stealthily, pressing myself against the wall. The sound was getting closer and closer. My breathing became shallow. As I turned a corner, I saw it. It wasn't big, but its shape was unmistakable: pale, almost translucent skin, sunken eyes, and long, thin limbs that dragged across the carpet, emitting that guttural groan.It was a boring one. According to internet rumors, it didn't attack directly, but it could plunge you into such a deep depression that it left you inert and vulnerable.Level 0 wasn't as "safe" as I thought.The Duller slowly began to turn toward me. I raised my pistol. The barrel aligned with the creature.Jun made a decision. He couldn't afford to succumb to despair. He aimed for the creature's head. A single shot.The blast echoed deafeningly in the enclosed corridor. The Duller stopped, let out a strangled scream, and collapsed to the floor.A heavy silence filled the corridor, broken only by the whirring of the lights and my ragged breathing. My heart pounded in my chest.Jun took a deep breath, letting the adrenaline slowly dissipate. Each inhale was measured, each exhale controlled. His military training had taught him **not to give in to panic**, even in extreme situations. The key wasn't to ignore fear, but to **channel it into useful energy**.With the pistol still in his hand, he calmly scanned the corridor, taking in every shadow, every corner, without rushing. His eyes assessed patterns, looking for inconsistencies in the lighting and details that others might miss. He knew that moving hastily would only attract unnecessary risks.He crouched briefly, examined the area where the Duller had fallen, and mentally noted the way the creature moved. **Every movement, every sound, every instant was information that could save his life.**Jun adjusted his backpack strap, tucked the knife into his right leg, and began to move forward with controlled, silent steps. There was no hurry; Every decision was calculated. In his mind, he repeated a mantra he'd learned in training: *"Control the body, master the mind, assess the threat."*Level 0 was still an endless labyrinth, but for the first time since arriving, Jun felt he wasn't completely vulnerable. Discipline and experience gave him a respite, a sense of control within the chaos.-
(Later )
A sigh escaped his lips. They were dry and his throat was rough. Time had passed: two hours. He needed water.He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a water bottle.Jun grabbed it, opened it, and drank. It was the best thing he'd ever tasted. It was water, and it was real. He felt the hydration revive him; his muscles relaxed and his headache subsided. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring that brief respite."Thank God for water!" he exclaimed, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "I never thought I'd say that. This is... a feast!"Refreshed, Jun felt a new surge of determination. There were enemies. There were resources.It had all been madness, but this was his madness. He holstered his pistol and stuffed the water bottles into his backpack. He wondered if this "Level 0" had any peculiarities beyond being a yellow maze.After walking for a while, I found an unoccupied room. A careful assessment: most of the spaces on Level 0 were empty, devoid of furniture or belongings, and this one was no exception. However, it was a relatively safe place to take a breather.After checking his backpack and eating something, he decided to rest. During his time in the army, he had learned a light sleep technique, capable of keeping his mind alert even as his body relaxed. He leaned against the wall, adjusted his pistol and knife within easy reach, and allowed his eyelids to close for a moment.Even during rest, his vigilance didn't disappear: every sound, every vibration of the constant hum was subconsciously registered, keeping him ready for any threat.
Day 2 (Level 0)June's POVI continued walking through the corridors and managed to sleep for about eight hours. It's not much, but I have to keep going; I can't relax completely. Thanks to the rest, my mind is clearer, and I feel much more energetic.Fin's POVAbout four hours passed. Nothing had changed: the same walls, forks in the path, and endless passageways. The distance we had covered, by rough estimate, was about ten kilometers. The girl was already starting to get tired, so she would stretch her legs occasionally and complain constantly.During this time, my assumptions were confirmed in two respects:The layout of this place is constantly changing. About half an hour ago, I took the opposite direction, and the rooms were radically different from the previous ones.This place induces hallucinations. It's unclear why. It's not some kind of poisoning from vapors or gases, and it hardly seems like a direct effect on the psyche.I focused on my surroundings. The buzzing seemed to intensify as I walked, and I felt a deeper resonance at the base of my skull. The lighting became more erratic: some areas plunged into an unsettling gloom, only to be illuminated again with a violent flicker. It was a test of patience, a sensory punishment.The next hallucination occurred after a couple of forks in the path: I saw a door that simply vanished as we approached. It didn't seem like a trick of the imagination; something was intentionally distorting my visual and auditory perception. It was as if this place was mocking me, or rather... toying with me.Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. It wasn't an entity. It was a disturbance in the wallpaper: a series of dark marks, like greasy scribbles, that hadn't been there before. I followed the marks with my eyes. They seemed to lead toward a seemingly solid wall."What is this?" June murmured, moving closer. The camera on my chest captured the stain on the wall, a dark contrast to the oppressive yellow of the surroundings."They look like... handprints? But not painted. Like... burnt oil. Or something worse."Further ahead, an arrow pointed in a certain direction.I decided to follow the path, moving cautiously, guided by the markings and arrows, keeping my pistol ready and my senses alert.This led me to a corridor. To my right, there was a room; inside, a small box rested on the floor.I approached carefully, aiming my pistol at the sides of the room, keeping my senses alert.Inside the box, I found a chocolate bar, inscribed with "Energy," and four bottles of almond water. They tasted somewhat sweet, and the water seemed to clear my head a little more.I put the remaining water and the chocolate bar in my backpack, making sure everything was within easy reach.Continue down the corridor, following the black arrows marked on the walls.After walking for about two hours, I reached a somewhat different corridor. This one wasn't yellow; it was a lighter color.The walls were covered with Manila-colored wallpaper, as was the floor. Despite being thick, when I approached and touched them, I heard a strange echo, as if they were hollow. I cautiously ventured further into the area, sensing that something was different in this section of Level 0.It was illuminated by intense fluorescent lights that emitted a constant hum. These lights had a warm, almost bright orange hue, and their intensity varied.In some rooms, the light was a bit more intense.As I went deeper into the rooms, I found several that did have furniture.I found a room with a table and several chairs; the lighting in that room was clear and less harsh. I decided to sit down in one of the chairs.I had arrived at a special place. I had my suspicions from the beginning, and now they were confirmed. Upon entering, my intuition told me I should check everything.
According to the guide on my phone:------------------------------Manila RoomClass 0→ Safe→ Secured→ Devoid of EntitiesThe Manila Room gets its name from the color of its walls and floor, painted in the characteristic shade of Manila paper. It's usually a quiet and relatively isolated place within Level 0. It's a small labyrinth about fifty meters long; the lamps are less bright. According to the guide, this is one of the few places on Level 0 where you can encounter other travelers. Also, if you have a special item, you might be able to reach Level 1 upon exiting.--------------------------------June's POVFor now, I'm going to rest for a while in this room. I'll take the opportunity to eat something and clean the weapon I found earlier.I sat down in the chair and carefully took out the pistol. First, I took a deep breath to gather my thoughts; every movement had to be precise. I rested the gun on my thigh, always pointing it in a safe direction, and pulled the magazine: empty or not, the rule is the same. With my thumb, I checked the chamber and the sight for any remaining cartridges: nothing. Safe and clear.I pushed the slide back and locked it, then removed the recoil spring guide and the return rod. I carefully removed the barrel and placed it next to the slide. Each piece was cold, with a metallic feel that brought me calm.I spread a cloth on the makeshift table and moistened it with a little oil (I had saved it for emergencies). I carefully rubbed the inside of the barrel, removing any dust and surface rust. Then I cleaned the slide rails and the outer surface, removing the dirt embedded in the grooves. With an improvised swab, I cleaned the corners of the chamber and the extractor.Apply a light coat of lubricant to the friction points: spring guide, slide rails, and barrel base. No more than necessary—too much attracts dirt. I reassembled the pistol in reverse order: barrel, rod, spring, slide. I ran the slide through to check that everything fit together and that the movement was smooth.I performed a functional check: magazine, cocking without firing, and slide release; the action responded precisely. I holstered the pistol, accessible yet secure. As I cleaned, the commander's words echoed in my head: "A gun is a tool; your strategy is what matters." I smiled inwardly. Preparation and control—that was all that kept me in contention in this damned maze.---I decided to get some sleep.Two hours later, the faint sound of footsteps woke me from my slumber. I drew my weapon, assuming the standard stance we practiced in the army.My senses sharpened. I aimed toward the source of the footsteps, and a short time later, a figure appeared in my vision.I couldn't help but stare in disbelief and amazement: a girl with pale skin, blue eyes, and short, jet-black hair with bangs. She wore a black turtleneck dress, long fingerless lace gloves, black and red striped stockings, and red Converse sneakers. Her makeup was heavy: black lipstick, dark eyeshadow, and black nail polish.She carried a small backpack and didn't appear to be armed.Our eyes met, and a shiver ran through me. I saw her face reflect surprise and a slight blush. I had seen beautiful girls before, but this felt different... perhaps this was what they called love at first sight.We remained silent for a moment. I lowered my weapon, determined to speak to her. She didn't seem hostile, and her expression was very expressive; she was probably another traveler, considering the special room we were in."So... were you scared?" "I asked, trying to force a nervous smile.She looked at me curiously, a little confused, and didn't seem to speak Korean. I tried to repeat the words in somewhat broken English.The girl surprisingly replied,"It's okay, I'm not scared at all. Just a little surprised. I've been wandering around here for a few days, and this is the first time I've run into another person."A small laugh escaped my lips:"So are we two of a kind, then."The girl laughed at my joke."I haven't introduced myself properly," I said, trying to sound gentlemanly. "Jun Kim, it's a pleasure to meet you. Could you tell me your name, beautiful lady?"She chuckled at the compliment and replied with a smile,"Mavis Dracula."