The Frontrooms

The Source of The Noise

Tall, and strong. Ginger hair, and dull looking brown eyes. A scar through his right eye, yet both eyes remain open. I see him holding a crowbar in his hands, a corpse of some skinless entity beside him.

The entity no longer alive.

He has a torn flannel shirt and a jacket, jeans that are mostly covered in some mysterious black liquid, finally he speaks in a deep and raspy, slightly husky voice.

"You. Prove to me you're a human."

I glance at the entity dead and back at him, nervous, I mean, I didn't know what to say, that note said finding other wanderers was unlikely. He looks older than me too. And quite frankly, I don't trust that he's human either. I haven't communicated with a human in a while so when I speak, it feels like the skin on my lips is tearing and opening.

"I can't. I don't understand this place enough to do so. But, how do I know this isn't some weird trickery? Are you human? Or, are you even real?"

The man narrows its eyes and puts the crowbar to his side, the hook of the crowbar caught on his tool belt, he speaks in a cold and harsh tone, "Listen here son. I've been to hell and back. I know the way and you bet your a** I can take you there."

The man looks serious too, which is strange. I haven't done anything, not yet at least, so I speak, my voice still monotone, "I'm serious, if it makes you feel any better I'm trapped in this asylum as well."

He looks me up and down and then looks at me with a judging gaze.

"How'd you get here then, if you're telling the truth."

I look at the broken ground, the concrete splitting, matching my own broken path.

"I don't know. I fell and then, I just kind of...ended up here."

The man also looks down, I glance at him for a second. I'm not used to seeing other people this vulnerable.  I'm used to seeing people happy. Happy or empty. I've only ever seen myself with such pain. So it hurts just a bit more. I finally speak up again.

"What was it like, your life I mean. Before you ended up here."

The man looks up at me and puts his hands on his hips, he shakes his head.

"It was good. I didn't think so, but it was good. I had it good."

Curiously I look at the man, maybe it's just my perspective on things that makes me not believe his words.

"Did you always think that?"

He scoffs.

"No but I sure as hell thought so after ending up here."

He looks at me, I can see the pain he tries so hard to hide away. Because I'm hiding the same pain.

"I took everything for granted," he says, a tinge of disappointment and regret oozing from his chapped lips.

"So have I. But unlike you, I don't want to go back to my measly life. I want to go home. I want to start over."

He laughs a hearty laugh, it's a bit of a husky one too, "Well, I guess in a way I want to start over too. I want to appreciate my life a bit more. And love myself and others with more passion. Because it would suck if I got out of here only for it to all be for nothing."

I understand his reasoning, it's justified. "How long do you think you have been here?"

"In this level or in this reality in general?"

I think about my words carefully before speaking, "Both."

He scratches his chin, and looks up at the sky, "I've been in this neighborhood for about two years. I've been trapped here in this reality for probably five."

Normally one would probably feel a sense of remorse. Maybe shock. But honestly, this news isn't surprising to me. And everything is dull. All I can say is, "Oh." and that's all.

I run my fingers through my hair and speak up, "Do you have any idea how to get out of here?"

He nods, "I do actually, in some levels all you have to do is survive and walk past but in others you have to find areas to phase through just like how you phased through places in Earth to get here," he pauses briefly, "Listen son, I've been here for a long time. I haven't spoken to anybody but myself. And I need help, help escaping this place," he stares me down intently, "Do you want to escape this place with me?"

I feel my eyes widening slightly. Honestly I could use the help. I don't know much about this place. But he's been here for much longer and it would probably increase my chances of escaping and surviving. So I shake his hand and agree to his offer. Because I too have been speaking to myself. And we both look up at the sky and then at each other, before we both begin to walk again.

With the one who made the noise.