With fluttering eyelids and hazy vision, my uncomprehending gaze darts about the cold, dark room. The shadows around me loom and twist, morphing into horrific monsters that feed on my still-asleep brain. Immediately, I fall into a momentary panic, terrified by the fact that I can’t for the life of me recognise my surroundings. As soon as the fear begins to set in, and my mind fully snaps awake, I instantly realize my current circumstances, calming down a moment later. Briefly, I go over everything that’s led up to this current moment: My chat with cat, the information I've gathered during my short stay here, the strangeness of my reflection. I also remember the plan I decided on last night, which distracts my despairing mind with a sense of purpose and a goal.

I roll over, my body tightly entangled with the sheets and blanket that I’m wrapped in. Casting my gaze to the corner of the room, I read the clock that sits on the nightstands, the numbers displayed on it glowing brightly, as though to dispel the gloom of the nightmarish dreams that haunted my sleep.

9:13 AM. It’s later than I initially expected to wake up. I don’t seem like the type of person to sleep in. Looking around, I confirm the lack of windows and dim lighting, so my environment could have caused me to oversleep, but I have a strong suspicion that my unconscious mind was more exhausted than usual, which led to me sleeping longer than normal. Whatever the reason, it’s a fact that I’m awake now.

“I guess it’s time to get to work.”

Muttering under my breath, I sit up. I faintly notice a tingling sensation at the back of my head, an insistent voice that urges me to realize my situation. I agree with the voice. There’s no reason to remain ignorant, so I should try my best to stay calm and take things one step at a time, searching for my reason for being here along the way.

As I strengthen my will and settle my inner turmoil, my bare feet slap against the floor. After a quick stretch, I strip nude, leaving my nightclothes in a pile by the foot of my bed. Turning to my wardrobe, I consider whether I want to pick out a new outfit for the day, or wear what I wore yesterday. Without a second of hesitation I decide on picking out a new outfit. The thought of wearing dirty clothes shakes me to my core, and I immediately discard any possibility of such a thing happening in the future. To act so uncivilized, it’s absurd. After scrolling a bit, I hesitantly decide on an outfit that seems acceptable. It’s simple and easy to move in, but still maintains the necessary stylishness to accentuate my charms. Though I do have to wonder whether such a thing is even necessary, since a body like this would look good even in a dirty sack.

I pick out an attractive pair of undergarments, which snugly fit against my skin and look beautiful wrapping around my curves, as well as a pair of soft black pants that are loose but look snug. After a bit of thinking I choose a simple striped white tee that fits with my pants and shoes, which sit by the door. Overall, it’s an acceptable outfit that’s not too flashy, nor form-fitting. I don’t know what to expect in this place, so picking something that will unnecessarily hinder me is a move beyond the realm of stupid. After all, for all I know this whole thing could be a game set up by some sick psychopath, who’s waiting for the right moment to strike.

With a clear mind I go through the natural order of things, as though following an itinerary. Get out of bed, change clothes, change the lights to a brighter color, brush my teeth, rinse my face, do my make-up. It’s a simple, ordinary routine that provides a foundation of stability. It allows me to be happy that my circumstances aren’t all too bad, that at least in this brief moment of time, I still have enough stability to get ready for the day in the morning. During the short period of time that I’ve been here, I’ve grown to appreciate the simple moments such as these. The realization that I have no memories of my life outside of this place terrifies me more than I allow myself to understand, so to combat the fear of never being able to understand, I have to throw myself into these singular tasks with everything I have.

At some point in time, without me noticing, the “window” embedded into my wall changed to a view of an expansive galaxy and faraway stars. It’s a quiet picture, implanting the idea that perhaps my worries aren’t that great in the face of the infinite space. I feel small looking at such a scene. It’s almost as though I’m not actually looking at a screen, but rather the screen is a window into the void itself. Shaking my head free of such absurd thoughts, I turn around and approach the door. It’s regrettable, but a life built solely upon stability is stagnation. I have no choice but to leave this peaceful world if I wish to know the truth.

I’m wearing the same shoes as yesterday. Tucked deep into my back pocket, I have my personal keycard securely hidden. Since I’ve already memorized the entire layout of the hotel, I don’t bother taking the map with me. Instead, I conjure up a crystal clear replica and throw it to the back of my mind, allowing my unconscious mind to analyze the points of interest and guide me. I blink. Realizing there’s nothing left to delay the inevitable, I let out a heavy sigh.

“I have no choice. This is the only move I have available.”

Click.

The door swings open as I stiffly unlock it. Before me spreads a sea of shadow. Compared to my well-lit room, the hallway is almost black as the sapphire lights bathe the floors and walls in deep color. The corners are pits of darkness that my eyes are unable to penetrate, coagulations of blackness that I can't peer into no matter how hard I look. The entire hallway is lined with such shadows. Peeking my head out, I watch as the distant hallway fades into blackness. In the opposite direction, where the hallway splits, the hazy abyss is even more pronounced. It’s a thrilling sensation -- fear. It’s not something I’m familiar with, but this primal fear, the fear of the unknown, thrives in this strange hotel. It’s as if the Unknown took form and now roams these halls, intent on torturing me and accentuating my indecisiveness.

I snort. It’s a forceful sound rich with annoyance. I’m not giving up that easily. Shutting down any further thoughts, I step out of my room and close the door behind me. I hear it lock the instant it clicks shut. If I want to retreat now, I’ll need to take the time to search my pockets. In that case, rather than waste time for no reason, I should get going. I’ve already made up my mind. I have things to do, to think any further about this matter is to doubt myself.

My footsteps ring abnormally loudly as I make my way down the corridor. The slow, even strides are free of hesitation, though they are ripe with anticipation and alertness. Step by step I walk through the hall. It’s strange that my shoes make such a loud noise. For running shoes this shouldn't be possible. Despite the soles of my shoes being foam, or rather a substitute of foam of some kind, they still make a loud ringing. Is it an effect caused by the hallway? Is it a weird architectural design meant to amplify any noise? It’s possible, but in that case why did my conversation with Arridy last night sound normal? Why can I not hear by breathing? I heave a heavy sigh, listening intently for any feedback or echoing. In that instant, shivers run down my spine and I stomach a scream.

I spot a face staring at me through the crack between the door and the frame. Room 14-48, only a few steps away from the place that I just left. The large, bulbous eyes watch me without emotion, staring with an abnormal coldness unbefitting human eyes. Is it wariness? Is this stranger suspicious towards their new neighbor? My feet remain rooted in place. My heart pounds violently. As I stand stiffly, I think furiously about my next plan of action.

Do I ignore them and continue on my way? But if I do that, that’s exposing my back to an unknown variable. For all I know this person could be a nutcase that wants to kill me. Then, do I turn around and go back to my room? Again, that’s exposing my back, and it takes longer than I’m comfortable with to open the door. So do I confront them? Do I ask them why they’re staring at me? It’s possible that this will get me the best results, but there’s a chance that I trigger some strange reaction. What if they think they’re hidden? What would happen if I suddenly called out to them, surprising them? Then, should I just stand here? There’s a possibility that someone approaches from behind, but there’s no point adding more variables that may or may not exist. Right. I should stay where I am and do nothing. I’ll wait for a reaction, and using that reaction I’ll decide my next course of action.

Time, which seemed to have slowed to a crawl, snaps back into place. I stand rigidly, waiting frozen in place. Out of the corner of my eye I watch the strange face as it pushes closer into the crack, as though trying to get a good look at my appearance. The dark pupils are striking. They quiver slightly, as though an earthquake erupted from within their brain. Time seems to stretch on, when suddenly, I hear a warm, gravelly voice from beyond the door.

“Goodness me! I’m sorry if I startled you, dear! I simply wanted to get a good look at my new neighbor, since newcomers are so rare and all. I really, really didn’t mean to scare you or anything!”

Turning my head, I see that the door has opened. Standing in the doorframe is a short old woman. Her skin is dark, making her difficult to see in the dim lighting, but her large, kind face seems to light up as she gives a sweet, homely smile, pointing it towards me like a beam of joy. Her gentle face is full of wrinkles, and her lips curl upwards, revealing a row of pearly-white teeth, proof of a healthy lifestyle despite her advanced years. Seeing how she openly revealed herself, and seems to be a friendly person willing to converse, my beating heart instantly slows, and my chaotic mind filled with plans and rampaging thoughts stills into a comfortable flow. Her cheerful face warms my ears as she continues speaking.

“Oh, r-right! Let me introduce myself, dear. My name is Anna, we’re neighbors, you see.”

She knows her name? That’s the first thought that springs to mind. How strange, there’s been a contradiction in the information I’ve gathered. So soon? How does Cat not know his name, while Anna does? How does Arridy know his name, while I needed to be told mine? Were they also told theirs? But Cat said my case almost never happened. Does that mean that people rarely book rooms ahead of time? What about Anna makes her different from Cat? Or did she just make up a name herself?

“Oh! I apologize for not approaching you, Miss Anna. I admit, your sudden appearance definitely startled me. Sorry for the rudeness. Right, by the way, my name is Mary! It’s nice to meet you!”

Anna freezes. Another strange reaction. She was fine until I introduced myself. Was she not expecting that? But what are the rules actually asking for then? If tenets aren’t supposed to remember their names, how are they expected to introduce themselves to their neighbors? Or was the rule a trap of some kind? But why? And who would want to set up a trap like this?

“A-Ah… Mary, you say…?”

“That’s right! My name is Mary.”

I give her a brilliant smile as I choose a course of action. I don’t know the significance of a name, but from what I can tell they seem to carry some level of importance. In that case, rather than reveal that Cat told me when I first arrived, it’s better to build a bit of mystery around myself. If I’m not supposed to remember my name, and yet I do, then I should use that abnormality to my advantage.

“Ah, well, hmmm… Are you interested in some breakfast, dear? I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but I’m quite a good chef and would be happy to treat you.”

She widens the door and beckons me inside. Past the doorway is darkness. Faintly, in the distance, I see a warm light, a lantern at the end of the hallway. Do I venture into that mysterious world, or remain rooted where I stand? Naturally I’m hesitant to follow her, but there is an appeal to figuring out what she knows. I cautiously test the waters, my expression contorting slightly into a hesitant pause.

“Ah, well, I really don’t want to intrude…”

“Why worry about such a thing dear? There’s no shame in accepting a meal from a young woman like me. You have quite the nice figure, it’d be a shame if you let it go to waste!”

Her mouth curls as she smiles, black eyes twinkling while she steps deeper into her room, as though to bait me inside. Seeing her pitiful attempt to manipulate me I feel the urge to laugh in her face. Though I feel that way, I’m more interested in her motivations more than anything, halting my urges. Why does she so desperately want me inside her room? I doubt the breakfast she speaks of is real, but in that case what does she gain if I choose to follow her. Ultimately, though it may be a fool’s choice, I give her a smile as I move to satiate my curiosity. At least at the moment she seems willing to talk. The more information I know, the easier it will be to understand my purpose in this place.

“Well… Since you insist, I guess it’d be rude of me to refuse. If you need any help in the kitchen, don’t hesitate to ask, I’m more than capable of making my own food.”

A strange light flickers though Anna’s eyes as she turns away from me, leading me past the door frame and down the hallway that the door opens into. I focus on the elder’s back as the door swings shut behind me, slamming into the frame with a loud bang. The walls of the hallway are too dark to make out any detail, but through the dim light, I manage to see the occasional crack in the drywall, with dents about waist high every other step or so. A heavy scent wafts into my nose, thick with the unpleasantness of incense sticks. The musk from the sticks act as though to cover up some underlying smell, but the smell is so faint I can barely discern it. At best, I can recognize it, which is practically useless to the present me.

Exiting the hallway, I’m immediately greeted with a strange sight. The layout of this place has already struck me as odd, but this only reaffirms the abnormality. While my room is an open floor plan, this room has two hallways, the one from the front door and the one to my left that leads deeper into the room. The space that I’ve currently stepped into can be considered the living room. Outdated lamps hang from the wall, the yellow glow providing minimal lighting, leaving many dark patches in the corners. The floor beneath me is a deep-brown wood, occasionally covered in animal furs of unknown origins. As though sticking to a naturalistic theme, various taxidermies of distorted, unknown species are placed atop the numerous shelves and bookcases that are strewn about the room. The small, beady eyes seem to glare at me as I take in the sight with a dumbstruck gaze. This is truly not what I expected when I first decided to venture into this place.

I cast a curious gaze to Anna as she leads me to the center of the room, where two opposing sofas are placed almost haphazardly. Between them is a low coffee table. I sink into the cushions the instant I press myself against them, tossing up a cloud of dust as the couch seems to cough at the sudden weight. The worn and aged fabric cracks and frays, distorting the already unsightly patterns into something maddening to anyone with an eye for aesthetics. I smother a frown as I look in front of me, watching as Anna sinks into the opposite sofa. Despite this being the first piece of furniture, placed at the entrance of the room, it also bursts into dust, as though unused in years. Anna doesn’t seem to notice as she gives a warm smile and engages in conversation.

“It might be a bit presumptuous of me to ask, but did you happen to be in a hurry? You just got here last night, correct?”

News seems to travel fast. Or was she informed beforehand? Do all of my neighbors know of my arrival? If so, what information about me do they have? From what I understand so far, if they have been told ahead of time, they don’t know much considering Anna was surprised that I knew my name. This could mean that either they were given a simple notification that they have a new neighbor, or that Anna has a firm grasp on the activities of those around her. Since I arrived late last night, she would have had to have been awake and active to have noticed my sudden arrival. Now that I’m thinking about it, when I first woke up, Cat mentioned that I was somehow late. What does this mean? What events precede my arrival?

“Ah, well, I had read that there were quite a number of bars in this hotel. I’m quite the connoisseur of wine, and therefore wished to explore the options.”

“Ahhh, Valhalla, yes yes, that place is very snug, I don’t drink much, never really liked the taste of alcohol, but it’s quite the popular place for those on these levels.”

“These levels?”

“... Nevermind nevermind. Forgive me, you know how it is, sometimes your tongue just slips. Just ignore me, please.”

Anna shrugs her curved shoulders with casual ease, blowing off my question with that simple movement. Since she is sitting before me, I’m finally able to get a clear view of her using the light of a nearby lamp. Her outfit is a long, worn out dress, with torn edges and frayed strands sticking out all over the place. Along the sleeves and abdomen are narrow cuts, and clumped up within those cuts are strands of long, black hair. The entire outfit is a dirty brown, with blue threads weaving sloppy patterns all over the chest and skirt. In a strange way, she looks closer to a wild animal, all covered in a layer of brown fur.

She wears a bright purple scarf around her shoulders, which matches the vibrant feathers that stick out from her tangled nest of hair. Her wrinkled skin is dry and cracking, seeming to stretch thin with every facial movement or casual motion. The skin around her mouth and eyes stretch especially thin, and her face looks caved in slightly, as though her facial muscles have atrophied with her age. What attracts the majority of my attention, however, are her eyes. They sit dully within their sockets, staring coldly at me, black and small, like little chunks of obsidian.

Looking away from the beady eyes that watch me with apt attention, I focus on the coffee table squatting in front of me. Surprisingly, there are papers scattered all across it, the pages are filled with strange designs and measurements, creating detailed notes on the project that the notes are clearly presenting. I’m more shocked that Anna has access to paper at all, however. The room being made out of wood is one thing, since this hotel seems fairly wealthy and should have decent connections. But to give someone like Anna, a woman that I don’t dare believe has any connections to the higher life, paper, which is generally known to be reserved for the upper echelons of society, is shocking. I try to read the words on the page, but alas, they are all alien formations that mean nothing to me. I’m curious as to whether I’ve lost the ability to read, and if so why is that not a part of the general knowledge that I seem to possess? Looking at one of the pages, I can understand through context alone that it’s most likely a shopping list of some kind, and the expensive-looking pen placed near the center of the table must have been used to write those words.

“And you, Miss Anna? Do you have any plans for the day?”

“Ah? Plans for the day? No, not really. I’m on my vacation yet all I make are tapestries. Haaah, isn’t it rather unusual to be working while on holiday?”

“Tapestries, you say?”

“Yes, tapestries. Like that one there.”

With a finger as thin as a twig, she points to the wall to my right. Turning my head, through the dimly lit gloom, I manage to spot a rather abnormal scene. A massive tapestry hangs on the walls, proudly presenting the detailed picture without shame. The event being depicted shows a young woman posing atop a massive boulder, arms outstretched as she reaches towards the infinitely distant sun. Her hair glistens in the light, and sweat seems to bead down her chestnut colored skin, though that’s most likely an effect of the material and not an actual detail. Surrounding her is a small army of blurry animals, their forms indistinct and hazy, as though not completely realized.

While the piece lacks vividness, the use of blacks, reds, yellows, and browns mesh well together, creating an earthy atmosphere that draws one close to the peacefulness of nature. Looking closer, I notice that some parts do possess different colors, such as pinks or blues, but as they are meshed with their surroundings, they don’t draw attention and instead serve to thicken the overall scenery. As I gaze in both confusion and awe, the back of my mind shivers and I feel my thoughts being directed elsewhere.

Previously, Anna said that she’s on vacation. Looking at her from an outside perspective, that seems like a reasonable excuse. This hotel seems like a rather expensive place to stay at, and from what I’ve read on the map, it has a large variety of attractions that could garner much attention in the market as a place to spend one’s time. However, this room looks far too lived in to be an actual hotel room. In fact, it’s closer to an apartment than anything else. If I wasn’t told by Cat when I first arrived here, I would no doubt believe that this place is actually an apartment complex. I also can’t forget my own room, and how it seems to have been especially designed with my past in mind. That’s far too much effort for a mere hotel to put into making a guest feel welcome. Also… Cat never once mentioned how long my stay will be. I didn’t even see any doors in the lobby.

“I’m curious, Miss Anna, how long have you been here?”

I try my best to ask as casually as possible, but my question does stick out rather awkwardly. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice as she answers me without batting an eye.

“I haven’t been here for too long, two weeks give or take. I’ll be leaving in about a week or so, I’d say, though it’s a bit of a shame. This place isn’t so bad, after all.”

Two weeks? That’s a remarkably short time to spend decorating this room. I also don’t think a hotel would go through so much effort to custom-make a room for someone if they’re going to spend three weeks in total staying there. While it’s already strange to stay in a hotel for so long, the fact that this hotel is essentially a mini city with all the necessary places needed to comfortably enjoy life excuses the long stay. In that case, they must expect visitors to spend long periods of time here, essentially working as a “home away from home” in a sense. I purse my lips and try to attack the question from a different angle.

“You’ll be leaving soon? That’s a shame, I thought we could have spent some time getting to know each other better, maybe go on a tour or have dinner together after I’ve settled in.”

“Haha, tour? No no… Why would you want to spend time with a young woman like me, anyways? I’m not some cute boy, you know! I’m positive there are plenty in this hotel that are interested in you, I’m just a minnow in the ocean! You should spend your time without someone more suitable.”

I’ve tried my best to overlook it, since my harsh reaction to Cat left me in a bit of a shock, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off about this situation. If I were to make a wild accusation to best explain my uneasiness, then I’d say that Anna’s sense of time feels different from mine in some unfathomable way. Setting aside the possibility that her room may have come pre-decorated like mine, she’s already mentioned that she personally made that massive tapestry. And not just that one, but multiple apparently. I’m no expert at making tapestries, but I know for a fact that making something that intricate and large by hand would take longer than a mere two weeks, even if she were the greatest tapestry maker in all of existence.

And yet, for some reason she tried to make me believe that she made that within such a short time frame? Not only that, but where did she even get the materials needed to make such a piece? My suspicions deepen as I ponder the feasibility of gathering new materials. Where could she have gotten everything? Did she bring everything with her? But then, what’s with the list on the table? If she didn’t bring everything with her, and instead bought all of her materials, where did she go to do so? Is there an exit that I don’t know of? But then, why wouldn’t it be marked on the map?

“Wow, Miss Anna! Your skill is amazing! How long did it take you to make such a masterpiece? You must have worked hard!”

With a jerk of my head, I gesture towards the piece in question, focusing my entire attention on the minute movements of her face. I need to pay attention. Either she’s purposely lied to me for some reason, or she’s lost her sense of time somehow and doesn’t know how long she’s been here. It’s difficult to imagine the latter possibility, but it’s reasonable after considering my current situation. If I can forget my past, then Anna can forget her sense of time. As expected, Anna’s gleaming eyes dull the instant I ask my question. It’s exactly the reaction I’ve been waiting for.

“W-Well, I’m not entirely… sure. I definitely worked hard… I remember staying up, night after night, hour after hour, working until my fingers bled… It, it must have taken a while, that’s for sure… Right, perhaps I was too caught up in the moment, that’s why I don’t… remember…”

Her expression darkens, and her eyes glass over. It’s the look she gave me when she was staring between the crack of her door, like an animal waiting in ambush. It’s a violent look that sends jolts of panic and fear down my spine, making my body instantly break out into goosebumps, sweat dripping off of my skin. Just as I’m about to change the topic, Anna suddenly springs from her seat. Instantly, I stiffen, as though bracing for impact. She moves as if possessed, her hands mechanically grasping each other as she grinds her teeth in tense silence. She struggles to speak. I watch her throat with sharp intensity as the words seem to rise up from her core. With a breath, as though vomiting the question out, she speaks. Her previous warmness has been torn away, instead replaced by an indistinct tension.

“I-It’s rather early in the morning, you m-must be hungry… I can make you breakfast! Yes, yes… How about some meat?”

It’s rather abrupt, but the sudden mention of breakfast summons forth a hunger I didn’t realize I had. As though to mock me, my stomach growls with an odd anticipation, a gurgling sound that makes its way into Anna’s ears, instantly brightening her dimming expression. Her obsidian eyes flick towards me as she suddenly starts to ramble, heedlessly forcing me into an uncomfortable situation.

“Yes yes! You’re definitely hungry! I can’t let my dear neighbor go hungry, especially when I have so much meat! This young woman may be forgetful, but she definitely hasn’t forgotten how to treat a guest… No no no, I’ll definitely give you my finest meat -- though whether that’s even necessary is up in the air eheheh… No no, you deserve the best, I can tell just by looking at your face… Ah your face, yes yes! I must give you the best of my meat--”

“What kind of meat is it, might I ask?”

The generalization of the word truly unnerves me, and I can’t help but feel an ominous foreboding the instant I voice my question. I’m sure in any other situation I wouldn’t have cared enough to ask, but this hotel is unique, and my situation doesn’t allow for me to slip up and overlook something glaringly obvious. This hotel seems to reach into the depths of my mind, and draws out the gnawing paranoia that I’m constantly suppressing. Ever since my arrival, time and time again I’ve nearly succumbed to my fear of the unknown and stopped moving forward. Even the simple act of sleeping pained my heart for the briefest of moments. At the time I was sure nothing would happen. I was confident that I had nothing to fear. Here, however, I feel as though my suspicion may hold true. Here, I suspect that my wariness may be meritorious.

“Ah meat! Would you like some eggs with it? Do you want juice or tea?”

After blatantly brushing off my question, my suspicions solidify. From now on I must act with the expectation that this woman means to harm me. Has she always wanted to harm me? Or did I trigger her somehow, and now she is acting like this as a result? When I first spotted her in the hallways, those eyes of hers were definitely suspicious. I chose the path of friendliness after she introduced herself to me as she didn’t feel as though she was acting. The Anna in front of me is completely different from the Anna who was chatting away with me mere moments before. Her entire presence seems to have changed.

In that case, perhaps I really did do something that triggered the previous her into action… Hmmm, the question that received the strangest reaction was my last one, which mentioned how long she’s been here. Is there really something different about her sense of time? Perhaps the realization that she’s been here longer than she realized is what tipped her over the edge. I see. It's best I take this event as a learning experience. This place seems to alter memories somehow. I should refrain from mentioning the past next time I’m in a conversation with someone.

I’ve cleared away the cloud of confusion. My objective is obvious right now. The first thing I must do is extract myself from this situation. I have no idea if Anna has realized that I’m on to her. The fact that I recognized her switch the instant it happened should be an unprecedented event, at least in her eyes. Since she’s trying to maintain appearances, the safest way out of here is to also maintain formality. If I want to escape this room safely, I should act with her until the perfect moment.

“Well, dear? You’d like some breakfast, yes?”

Her sudden words instantly snap me out of my focused contemplation. The second I realize my surroundings, I immediately notice the deafening silence. Without Anna’s constant chattering the home feels illusory, as though it’s some superficial space meant only for my eyes to see. I glance at Anna, who has somehow moved to the corner of the room without me realizing. She stands stiffly, like a rigid steel pole. Her shallow breaths come in ragged gasps, the weightiness of the expulsions heaving, as though she’s throwing away all the oxygen that resides within her lungs. Looking at her from the corner of my eye, she appears as though mixed with shadow, her presence gives an almost hollow feel, like a puppet without life.

Anna’s positioning is peculiar. She’s standing near the entrance to the dark hallway, blocking off access to the front door. Behind her is the dark passage that leads deeper into the room, this is where she most likely wants to take me. If I say that I want some food, she’ll try to guide me deeper into this room, further and further away from freedom. I now have no suspicion in my heart. Anna is definitely not my friend. In a way I’m almost relieved. Cat and Arridy are both nice people, even I can tell that, but then where should I place my suspicions? If everyone in Hotel Limbo was a kind soul, then why would I need to have my memories stolen? Thankfully, Anna has dispelled my worries. Arridy and Cat are the abnormal ones. It makes sense for madmen like Anna to be here. After all, what good samaritan would steal someone’s past?

“Well, Miss Anna, if you insist. How could I refuse your offer?”

“Good good, come along dear, let's head to the kitchen! I’m sure this won’t take long at all!”

“Of course! Guide the way, Miss Anna. I’m right behind you.”

With pitter-pattering steps, Anna vanishes down the dark hallway, heading deeper into the cluttered room. I slowly stand up, wracking my brain to come up with the best solution to escape this place. Instantly, I narrow down my options to two choices: Either I follow Anna deeper into the building, taking on the risk in favor of gathering more information, or I leave now while she’s gone. Without a second of hesitation, I choose the latter option. What use is information if I’m either dead or injured? Anna is an unknown variable at the moment. To venture into her domain without the proper preparations is the height of folly. Perhaps I will want to change my decision in the future after learning what she’s capable of, but at present, the safer option is finding common ground without a second delay. This is a lesson. I’ve severely underestimated the level of wariness I need to possess in this place.

My movements seem sluggish as I straighten my back. I try my best to lighten my footfalls, but it’s as if a strange pressure is pushing down upon me. The space between the couch and the hallway that leads to the front door seems exceptionally long, as though in the span of a few seconds the room doubled in size. It’s dark and cold. An eerie silence surrounds me, the only sound, my footsteps, echo like drums. I reach the entrance to the hallway after a long moment of suspense. Have I been thinking too hard, making time stretch out as a result of my focus? Or was I walking abnormally slowly to begin with? I should have gotten here sooner. I’ve wasted a lot of time. Various plans flash through my head as I move my foot past the threshold, heading closer to the door. Instances where the door doesn’t open, be it locked or stuck, scenarios where I must fight back against Anna if she tries to stop me for whatever reason... Plans upon plans storm through my mind, flashing through my brain in seconds.

Time dilates as I hear the jagged breathing behind me. I’m only a couple of steps into the hallway, which gives me enough space to jump into action. Rapid thuds fill the room, and in an instant, one of the many possibilities I’ve thought of snap into place. Without hesitation, I throw myself backwards, lowering myself as I careen towards the couch. My perception flashes like a camera, recording everything in an instant. In my peripheral vision, I spot my assailant. Where I once stood, Anna now stands. Clenched tightly in her hands, fingers white as bone, arms bulging with veins, is a massive cleaver, chipped and jagged. Her arms are outstretched and her body sways as she struggles to recover her balance from her previous lunge. Her wrinkled face is taunt, with her lips pulled back into a snarl. Her eyes gleam with an animalistic hunger.

My suspicions are confirmed without a shadow of doubt the moment her murderous appearance graces my eyes. Despite the tense situation, I feel a surge of glee at having seen through the woman’s act, and my lips unconsciously curl ever so slightly. The obvious strangeness of the woman herself has been explained, but I’ve also managed to deduce the origins of her materials, of which she’ll need a constant supply should she wish to continue making tapestries. Human hair. Looking at her blade, this isn’t the first time she’s lured someone into her home. Hair is a rather useful material when you can’t buy string or yarn. It’s obvious that she’ll use the hair of her victims to fund her little projects. Though, I have to wonder whether she kills others specifically for their hair, or for other reasons. The origins of the so-called “meat” also clicks into place, and I can’t help but feel myself growing nauseous.

Stabilizing myself, I move closer to the table, throwing myself over the couch and landing on the dirty cushions. Simultaneously without a second of hesitation, Anna lurches at me again, screaming with a frenzied look in her eyes. She swings her blade with her right hand and reaches out with her left, as though conflicted as to whether she wants to murder or restrain me.

“Hehehe! Dear, why don’t you have a bite?! Just a single bite! Awaken that sweet, sweet hunger inside you! Let it consume you! Just a bite! J-Just a bite!”

I roll off the couch a second before she reaches me. Worn stuffing bursts into the air as the knife sinks into the cushions. Anna jerks her arm as though to dislocate her shoulder. Her face contorts as she roars in anger and tears apart the remaining cushion, moving with surprising ferocity that betrays her age. Her raspy breaths become louder by the second. Slowly she’s losing any semblance of control.

“Just eat! Just eat just eat just eat!”

Her voice raises an octave as she falls into a delusion. In my frantic retreat I tip over the table, resulting in the contents flying across the room. I turn my eyes away from her as I scan the floor, sight bouncing in every direction. The moment I look away, as though her delusion was a mere act, Anna is upon me. She charges with almost inhuman speed, throwing aside the shredded sofa with a simple kick of her leg. Pillows and cushions fly across the room, bouncing against the walls and ceiling. I watch as they curve through the air with almost unnatural calmness.

Anna’s body collides against mine. She pins herself against me, her breath buffeting my face, the stench of rotting flesh flooding my senses. Her hunched, withered body is freakishly heavy, and my own body is too small and weak to summon forth any of the strength necessary to escape. I can only squirm futilely as Anna haphazardly swings her right arm towards my face.

“HAHA! Meat!”

“?!”

A blood-curdling scream involuntarily erupts from my lips. Almost detachedly, I listen to the ragged wailing. The voice is young and the vocal cords seem practiced. Despite it being a cry of pain, the sound seems almost rehearsed. Her cries cling onto a single note, as though singing. It’s a beautiful sound. The slight ringing that fills the air. The breathless gasp of shock as her lungs expand and contract, desperate to renew the expelled oxygen. Pain floods my body, yet all I can listen to are the chilling screams that spring forth from my lips.

Crimson blood sloshes from the palm of my hand, drenching my face. The cleaver has sunken into my palm, though from what I can tell, it’s not too deep. It’s fortunate. Though I may have actively sacrificed my left hand, I’m grateful that I can still use it without issue. It would be unfortunate if I ended up with a useless limb. From what I could tell, her swing wasn’t strong enough to actually separate my hand, though at the time I was hesitant to commit to the act as she’s already proven to be abnormally strong. Thankfully, my efforts weren’t in vain!

My right hand glides across the stained wooden floor, brushing against the sticky liquid that coats the ground in a thin layer. I wonder where she actually hit to make such a big mess. The sudden pain has graced my body with a rush of adrenaline, and I utilize my newfound strength. I jerk my body, rolling away from the woman that’s sloppily planted herself atop me. In the same motion, I reach out and clutch the pen that was thrown when the table flipped. With a sudden rush of triumph, I swing my arm and push the pen directly into Anna’s eye. The thin metal rod destroys the jelly and immediately pierces through the thin bone in the back of her socket. The pen prods her brain with vicious accuracy.

A pained screech vibrates the atmosphere. It’s rich with desperation and madness, steeped in agony and bursting with malice. Holding my injured hand close to my chest, I stand and agilely move away from the woman. Scratching at her left eye, Anna stumbled around the room, knocking over the disarrayed furniture. Her fingers tear into her skin and blood coats her face, leaving a ghastly visage for me to witness.

After confirming the situation, I steady my breath and hurry to the door, sidestepping the many fallen objects that now block my path. I fly down the hallway, shoes thudding loudly against the floor, not a step out of place. I force my mind to calm itself as panicked thoughts threaten to swell up. A few steps away from the door, I hear a disturbing ripping noise, followed by a wet sloshing sound. An anomaly. It’s a sound outside of my expectations, meaning it’s an unknown variable I must understand and account for. With a ragged sigh, I look over my shoulder. Immediately, I freeze in shock and horror.

Anna claws at her face. Her talon-like fingers gouge chunks of flesh from her sagging profile. As though removing the outer skin of a ripe fruit, her glistening insides shimmer in the dull light. It’s a gleaming pink. Squirming muscle that thrashes in pain, the nerves writhing as the blood-scented air burns the cells to their cores. Gaping holes only remain in the place where her nose once was, now dripping with mucus and blood. Her fist digs into her ruined eye socket, and with an incoherent howl, she violently tears the pen from her skull.

Before I can even think about reacting, Anna hunches over, bending until her chin presses against her knees. Her scalp bleeds as torn patches glisten in the lamplight. Her fingers are wrapped in a coat of black hair. Her wet locks seem to squirm as she silently convulses. Her legs are locked rigidly, as though cemented to the floor.

Silence. Oppressive, revolting silence. Her sudden silence unnerves me far more than her physical appearance. A thick cloud of fear and madness coagulates around the old woman, filling the room with the stench of beasts and blood. I find myself incapable of movement. My legs refuse to budge, as though I’m held captive by some primal fear. Terror rips away any semblence of calmness as I desperately tremble. My heart swells as it pumps a surge of blood through my body, filling my veins to the bursting. My hand writhes as my wound squirms and convulses, the thick redness that fills my insides seeping into the outside.

Anna begins to laugh. A soft chuckle that trembles ever so slightly, as though she’s trying to hold her mania inside her. Like a breaking dam, an uproarious howl booms from her hanging mouth, before suddenly mutating into inhuman screeches. Anna’s convulsions intensify until they reach their climax, and the woman drops to all fours with a drawn out squeal. The sound of snapping bones, followed by the wet sloshing of blood. Anna’s body splinters as she folds into herself. Her black skin hardens, the bubbling muscle within oozing to the surface, forming a gleaming black metallic shell that completely encapsulates her. Her squirming neck elongates and twists. With a sickening crunch, her rips burst from her abdomen and meld together, tapping rhythmically against the broken floor as they grow to support her disfigured body.

Anna’s small figure has been replaced, twisted into a monstrous beast that screeches and wails. Her remaining eyeball bursts from her socket and uprights itself mid-air, swaying back and forth with her every movement. Her jaw cracks open like a nut, revealing her rotting teeth, black with decay. They merge together in an instant, protruding and elongating into large, snapping mandibles that push past her loosely hanging lips. With an insect-like chittering, Anna aligns herself with me, crushing the remaining furniture under the weight of her body.

She charges.

There’s absolutely, nothing, I can do… Wow… What a situation… Hopeless despair washes over me and I feel a tear run down the left side of my face. When was the last time I cried? My past has escaped me, but I feel as though this sensation is particularly foreign to me. It feels like forever since I so openly expressed my inner emotions… My heart trembles as my body relaxes. It’s too late. I don’t want the game to end, but it’s obvious that I’ve lost… Heh, I didn’t even figure out why I’m even here…

I watch the creature that was once Anna scuttle towards me. Her numerous legs tap against the floor in an erratic manner. The rhythm is gentle, like the peaceful tapping of a piano’s keys. Such a soothing sound. So nostalgic. We face each other, two opposing forces, not too different at all. Perhaps we’re all animals deep inside. With an unwilling grin I close my eyes, and relinquish my life, discontent with my early-demise yet powerless to stop it.

The door behind me smashes open. I’m yanked backwards by the hem of my shirt. My body seems to float as I glide through the air, dancing in the wind like a flower petal or a snowflake. I crash into the floor. My eyes crack open. The world spins, around and around, until suddenly stopping without warning. I see a blurry outline. Tall, cloaked in shadow, a massive ax clutched in his hands. Anna mindlessly charges through the door. Stillness. Her head parts from her body, her long neck flopping uselessly to the ground. Thuds fill my ears, filled with rage and disgust. The stranger swings his weapon at the monster’s corpse. Again and again and again. Who…? Why…? The tension seeps from my body, leaving me entirely empty. I fall into blackness.

I can do nothing but spiral endlessly.