Found in Hidden Darkness

The White Room

The Creator

I don't remember falling. But I woke up on the floor. Laying still with my eyes closed, trying to collect my mind before I compose my body. What happened? I had left for the new AU...

I pry open my eyes in an anxiety driven manner. I stifle a cough as my vision tries to focus on the ceiling. I can't remember...the black liquid? My mind is spinning with questions. And I would have fallen down, if I wasn't already laying on the ground. I tap my fingers against the solid ground as I finally blink the world into view.

A mosaic of blue and white sharpen into what I believe are strings hanging on the ceiling. I slowly crane my neck up, trying to get a better sense of where I am. And hopefully what happened. I carefully sit up, aware of the exhaustion I am facing. Being tired something that is more of a state of being rather than a feeling. But I guess I'm glad I got some sleep then.

I concentrate on sitting up before evaluating where I am. I appear to have been laying on the hard ground, especially since my back is achingly sore. I glance around me as I rotate by back. Feeling my non existent muscles stretch. I release a deep breath, trying to calm my sense of alarm. There isn't anything to worry about. Every thing is okay-

I've been here before.

A piercing pain attacks my brain and sends echoes through the rest of my mind. The white emptiness sends shivers down my spine. Where could I possibly be? This couldn't be the AU, right? I mean, it could be a glitch.

But why would I have such a sense of familiarity? Sitting up, I get a better in front of me. Blue threads of some sort cascade the ceiling, giving the space an almost messy look. But as I shakily stand up, I see them in better detail. They appear to be magically attached. The string hang limply from the arches they hang down in. The vibe I'm getting is very modern art. But hidden amidst the strings, are...souls?

Human souls?

Dozens of them are buried in this blue sea of yarn. Only visible if you look deep enough. The strings stretch around them, creating a new type of prison. A creative type of torture. I take a step back. Where am I?

Familiarity still wraps my mind. A feeling so strong it almost is over whelming. Another round of head aches keep me company. I reach a hand to my head. Then something draws me out of my thoughts.

Smoke? I pull up my sleeve over my hand and inhale. The pungent smell of the gas fills my head. Why would I smell like smoke? I take another step back. The overlay of strings giving me a feeling of claustrophobia. I try to push the smell of fire away from me, as it is almost suffocating. But before I could get too far away from it all, it trip over something behind me.

Or someone...