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I woke up hazily. The world was dark for a while, until my eyes adjusted and shapes formed and black faded to gray. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. I didn't quite remember anything, just waking up. Before I examined my surroundings, I tried to recall something from my past. I didn't remember a thing.

        I turned my head and tried to recognize the shapes around me. The room was sparse, with a few piles of random gadgets around the walls. I sat up on the metal table I was on, and continued to search with my eyes. In one corner stood a large metal contraption that appeared to be some sort of power generator. It didn't seem to be on. It was huge, though. Maybe around seven feet tall. There was a screen on its side, with a crack running through it. It seemed as though I wasn't the first person to be in this room – and someone before me had been angry.

        In another corner, there sat a bag and something bulky next to it. I stood up and walked over to it. Picking it up, I realized that the bag was relatively light, and made to be easy to carry. It would be easy to run with, if I needed to. I looked at the bulky object placed next to the bag. It appeared to be some sort of weapon. I wondered vaguely why I would need it, but I didn't want to question much right now. It didn't seem useful. I put it to the side, noting that I'd need to find an easy way to carry it without having to take up my hands. I opened the bag and started going through its contents.

        A water bottle.

        Some fruit.

        A pocketknife.

        A flashlight.

        A few coins.

        A small piece of paper.

        I took out the piece of paper and unfolded it. There was writing on it, but it was too dark in the room to read it. I sighed, frustrated. I looked around, trying to find a light switch. While I was feeling around the walls, I couldn't help but ponder the fact that I seemed to have complete awareness of many things, except how I got there and anything before. It was odd, but I figured sometime it would all be explained.

        Finally I found something that resembled a light switch and flipped it upwards. A bright, sterile light filled the room, and I hissed in pain at the sudden, migraine-inducing light. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust. I looked down and unfolded the small paper again.

        These are your supplies. I will be watching you and helping you. Follow my instructions and abide by the rules, and you will survive. Good luck with your ESCAPE.

        I wondered what that meant. Once again, I figured it would be explained later, so I stuffed the note back in my bag and slung it over my back, picking up the gun.

        I was ready.

        I wasn't exactly sure what I was ready for, though. Not just yet.

        I walked out of the room, looking around cautiously at the hallway around me. It was dark once the light of the room was faded. I took off the bag and found the flashlight inside, switching it on and swinging it around.

        I was greeted by the corpse of a slimy creature. Its head, or some appendage that I assumed was its head, was thrown back, cracked against the cold stone floor. Purple fluid was oozing from the body out of orifices, placed randomly but obviously made on purpose. The cuts were professionally made.

        Someone knew what they were doing.

        And, if I knew monsters, which for some reason I did, where there was one, there would be dozens more.

        I straightened, shining the flashlight ahead. Flashlight and gun in hand, I started walking forward.

       The only sound was my feet on the stone, and I could feel little pebbles, eroded away from the huge gray mass, under my feet. I kept swinging the flashlight around, keeping an eye out for any of those slime creatures. If I had to describe the feeling, it would be eerie. The dead creature, and the lack of knowledge of what was going on – I could tolerate all that. Maybe that was another factor to the eeriness – the sheer fact that, despite the fact I knew nearly nothing about my current situation, I had no feelings about it other than neutral.

        No, the only that sent shivers down my spine was the feeling of being watched. Every step, every breath, every swing. I felt an all-powerful eye watching me. I felt like an animal, being kept in a cage, the freak show at the traveling circus. Gripping onto the cage bars with gnarled, dirty hands, staring out at the viewers with bloodshot, hate-filled eyes. Growling out at them, trying to scare them away, when I, myself, was too scared to lash out at them. Scared of what the ringmaster would do. Scared of what they would do. Scared of where I would go next.

        I felt like the pet of some almighty being, this godlike figure watching me. I would wander around this place, trying to find my escape, and in my mind I would hear a distant laugh. Maybe I would not even hear it – just sense it, an inconstant rise and fall of emotional signals transferring to my mind, like my own soul was laughing at me.

        Laughing at the freak show.

        Or maybe I was paranoid. I was not entirely sure of who I was – I could remember no past, no personality, no family. Maybe, before waking up in that room, I had been a mental health patient. Maybe they had decided to put me down, and this was my afterlife. Eternal confusion and paranoia. It made sense, theoretically.

        My thoughts turned to the paper in my bag. The writing… It seemed like it didn't belong to a normal being. At least, not normal in the sense my brain had configured. Maybe the owner of the writing was also the owner of the eye watching me. It was entirely believable. The writer was the godlike figure. And they would be, until proven otherwise.

        I wondered for a moment why I was not getting an answer. Most likely because they could only communicate via written messages. It was just as possible. Just because they were a godlike figure did not exactly make them a god. And even if they were, not all gods could communicate directly thought-to-thought.

        And then a small piece of paper floated down.
I have no interest as to answer your questions about me. Continue your journey, plan your ESCAPE. We will discuss me later.

        This being was very mysterious.

        I stuffed the note in my pocket and started walking again. I couldn't help but think about what would happen if I encountered one of those monsters. I could use my gun on them, but I didn't have any extra ammunition. And I didn't know how strong those creatures were. For all I knew, they could take more bullets than I had in my inventory. And where would I get more?

        Maybe I could just use the knife I had in my bag. But that would require close range combat with those creatures. I wasn't sure my stomach could handle that – those monsters were disgusting. But it might be a little more efficient in the fight with them. I wondered if I should give them a name, or if they had a name already.

        Maybe Foeds. That's good.

        It works.

        Suddenly there was a noise. I pointed my gun, starting in fear. It must have been a Foed. Unless there were more monsters in this place. In which case, I was very well – for a lack of a better term – dead.

        Which was okay for now. Dead worked. Dead made sense in the grand scheme of things. Dead was inevitable, anyway.

        At the same time, though, I couldn't help but wonder about my pride. I was supposed to have some sense of it. And I guess that was that pounding feeling. I couldn't be scared away by a pile of mucus. That would be dishonorable to whatever I had to hold onto. Maybe I was scared of disappointing the watchful being. After all, I didn't know what it could do. It might have been able to murder me with nothing but an annoyed glance.
Although, that was just stupid. Nothing that powerful could live. And even if they could, then what would they want with me? Surely I wasn't anything important. If anything, this made me nothing more than a freak.

        But I digress.

        I had to make a decision.

        Just for the ease for the first kill, I pointed my gun at the noise. I tried to locate where the creature was, but it had stopped making noise – I had lost the trail.

        I stood there, unmoving, for a few minutes. Just to see if I could hear the noise again. After what felt like ages, I heard nothing, so I continued moving on.

        That's all I could do.
Hey guys! I've been working on a book lately, and this is the result of the first chapter. If you have any questions or comments, leave one down below. (Even though no one comments... OTL)

Also, I have to give credit to my editor, Tribs. <3 you!
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corpseSilencer Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2011
DeviantArt why you no italics...
littlyon Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Let me be the first to comment... :D
I feel like you showed this to me before...probably in chorus last year...Whatever. I like it.
littlyon Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
..And by the way, this is Timi, not some random creeper.
corpseSilencer Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2011
Did I show it to you? Hm. It's a,ways been on my computer, though. I guess it's just that generic. xD
littlyon Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
I swear you showed it to me. I DO NOT REMEMBER INCORRECTLY. >:(
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