>>2266931
>Explore

You begin to walk around the area, dark hallways litter the desolate landscape as explore this strange new place. You walk through the first hall and are greeted with a white hallway, lit by swinging lights overhead. You travel down the hall, foot after foot. Your eyes look at the floor as you see aging tiles, some cracked and some not. The walls are plaid with a faded white coat of paint. At the end of the hall is a door. It's a brown oak door with a grains running down the length of the door and a rusty handle holding it closed.

You enter it slowly, careful of any hidden surprises that may await you. Inside the walls is the same pale as the outside, but the centerpiece is a large table decorated with a baby's bottle, a pillow, and little-stuffed plushie. You feel as though it's best to leave them alone.

The next hall is a red brick wall. The floor is a rusted metal. At the end of the hall, you find a room. The same decor as the hall, there isn't a table this time. A little tricycle and a small wagon made for children occupy this space. You head back.

You are about to enter the last hallway when you hear a voice. You can't make any distinct details from it.

>Find the voice.
>Explore the last hall.

>>2267036
>Find the voice.
Last time we ignored a voice, we ignored loli.

>>2267036
>Find the voice.

You try to find the source of the voice. You wander in a few directions trying to make out where it's coming from, before finding yourself in the room you started from. The light is still shining in from the windows and the room is still as dark as ever, however, now you can hear the voice, and with the sound, you now realize that the place is almost eerily quiet, in fact, aside from the voice, you haven't heard anything at all.

A girl's voice can be made out from what was once a distant echo. The cadence of her voice seems desperate and pleading. You can't make out any words. It all seems muffled, like music through water, all muddled and incoherent. You take slow steps with a steady gait as you find the source of the voice. It's on the other side of the windowpane. There's a latch on the windowpane.

>Open it.
>Don't open it.

>>2267145
>open it duuuh
I mean what could be the worse would happen right guys?

>>2267145
>Open it.

The latch opens with light jostling. After that the window opens with ease, revealing a pristine... nothing.

The window opens to a white expanse, as far as the eye can see, completely uniform with no sense of the ground nor sky. No definition could be made of what you're seeing. A tentative reach outwards rewards you nothing as you don't feel anything either. If you had to equate it to something, you would say it's like beyond the map boundary in video games, void of detail. However, something was gained from this, the voice is at it's loudest now. You swear that you can almost make out her words, but they just don't quite click in your mind.

You are sure that the voice is coming from this expanse. You don't know know what's in the void, or in the hall. However, you feel like you can't come back when you've made a choice.

>Follow the voice.
>Open the final door.

>>2267168
>Follow the voice.

An uncertain step moves you as you stand in the window frame. The voice echoes in the background. You've made your decision. You're going to follow that voice. Fingers close around the frame as you steady yourself. Your breathing slows. You don't know where you're going but you're ready.

And you jump.

...

You fall.

There is nothing to grab onto.

You keep falling.

The voice is getting louder.

All of a sudden you jolt awake, a searing pain in your shoulder, screaming is in the air, you honestly can't tell if it's yours or not. You gasp for air, your cheeks sting and feel hot to the touch. Your back is wet and sticky, but the beating of your heart tells you that you're alive. The pounding in your head, the birds chirping, the familiar sight of your kitchen, all of it says you're alive.

"Thank goodness you're all right!" A voices says to you.

>Revel in the fact that you're not dead for just a bit longer.
>Turn to the voice.

>>2267220
>Turn to the voice.

You turn your head to face the voice, the thrill of not dying ebbing away, as you're faced with the coldness of life.

At your side is the young girl from under your bed. You don't know her name but something seems very different as she clings to your shirt. Her bangs sway as she turns to face you.

"You look like you're okay, are you okay?"

Her face is awash with relief as you look at her. Her golden locks sway as she examines you. Her hand feels cool on your warm skins as she checks you for any wounds. It's nice and calm. Very reassuring. You feel a second wave of relief wash over you and with an unceremonious fwoomp you land in a stick puddle back first. Ugh. You should probably clean that. But you could probably lay here for a bit more. The girl's touch is a blissful cold against the burning heat. You could almost doze off.

>Fall asleep.
>Struggle to stay awake (Roll 1d10)

I really like how this came out, taking comp 101 now, so you all can look forward to my writing getting better. In any case, I'm going to end it here for the night, I really hope you enjoyed the thread. I'll probably update once tomorrow before my classes. Until then.

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>2267321
>Struggle to stay awake (Roll 1d10)

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>2267321
>Struggle to stay awake (Roll 1d10)

File: my-job-here-is-done-butvo(...).png (189 KB, 500x941)

189 KB PNG

You struggle to keep awake, and with a little effort manage to do so.

You pick yourself off the ground with mild protest from the girl. On the ground is an artwork comprised of a giant pool of blood and shards of glass. It's in pretty bad taste if you must say so yourself, and you offer whatever deity above some despondent sigh as you go about cleaning up the mess.

You start off by collecting the shards of glass, picking them up one by one, eyes out for any smaller splinters, but you imagine you wouldn't be able to pick them up until you cleaned off the blood. You deposit them in a garbage bag ready for disposal.

With most of the glass gone, you set to work on the blood, blotting up most of it with paper towels. A handy side effect was that most of the little splinters also stuck to the towels.

Ouch! Most, you think to yourself as you extract a shard from your foot.

Running over the area with a broom, you collect the remaining leavings and dealt with it swiftly.

After finding a new shirt to wear, the last one too bloody and ripped for your liking, you look at your work and give yourself a pat on the back, rewarding yourself with a job well done. The little girl also looks satisfied. Why are you so happy? You didn't even do anything.

>Talk to the girl.
>Fuck this, I just got stabbed by a ghost, I'm going to bed.
>Write-in.

>>2267873
>Talk to the girl.

>>2267873
>Talk to the girl.