Varian knelt to the floor and gazed into the black abyss. Now that he could see it somewhat clearly, it was hard to mistake the tunnel for anything else. Where there should have been pipes, there was only endless space. It looked like it went on forever. The darkness reaching out as if it was feeding on everything. 

A hunger within it that couldn’t be satisfied.

His heart sped up, pounding against his ribs, and shaking his entire torso. It wasn’t exactly fear pushing him forward nor was it determination.

Curiosity never had a strong hold on him until now. It took him by the hand, grasped his throat, and threatened to pull him under the dark waters.

He didn’t have to try hard to imagine the large waves crashing into him. The cold never bothered him. He loved feeling the biting at his cheeks. Like he was being devoured. 

Hungry eyes flashed in the back of his mind. The heat of a gaze eating him alive. His heart fluttered and his stomach flipped. He thought he was going to faint as he was rocked with the memory of something he still couldn’t quite grasp.

Then, it was gone like it had never been there in the first place.

The war against the dark waters raged on. This wasn’t just a tug-of-war. It was a full on fight that raged inside of him as he stared into the dark void. The voice had told him not to wait long and the longer he stayed here the more he risked being killed. Or that’s how he saw it anyway.

They were smart. Whoever was behind all this. They had cameras, they had this big house under their control, and they had secret places tucked away. They had an intercom system and they had mechanics which they could control from where they were. They had to be tech savvy or they knew someone that could do this for them. 

Varian didn’t like that. He didn’t like any of this, but he didn’t like the fact that this person had set up all this in advance. That meant they probably worked out all the kinks. 

They probably already had a plan set up in case something went wrong or if Varian tried to escape.

Taking a deep breath, as if he were diving into unknown waters, he took the first crawl. Immediately, he felt the walls close in on him. The air was sucked out and the smell of musk hit his nose like a freight train. He couldn’t turn back, couldn’t even think about running away.

He thought briefly about home. The warmth was just a memory, but he tried to hold onto it as long as possible. It wasn’t long—just a minute—when it was too hard to capture. He grappled for the loving memory. It was too late. It was already gone.

He gripped the knife tightly. The edge scraped across his skin and the slight sting kept him grounded for a little while longer. Bells chimed in his head, pushing the silence out. He hummed under his breath, eyes wide though there was nothing to see. The minutes passed and still, it felt like he’d never left in the first place. Time dragged on as he crawled through the small tunnel. 

The song he hummed along to could not be named. The melody played for one last time before he could not remember the rest.

But as the end of the song came near, so did the tunnel.

The only reason he could tell was because he hit his head on the door.

“Dammit.” He hissed, cradling his forehead with his free hand. The knife clanked on the floor and made a horrible scraping noise.

“Oops! I should have warned you. This whole house is designed in the strangest way. Perfect for giving an old game some new life.”

Varian glared at the door. “What even is this for?”

“Hm. Well…can’t really know, can I? The designer did die a century before we were born.”

We.

He felt around the small wall for the door handle. Had that little slip up been a clue? They said we, maybe hinting that they and Varian were around the same age.

Or they were generalizing.

His hand touched a small hole big enough for two of his fingers to grasp onto. With a little tug, the door slid open a small fraction. Light poured into the room like water, but the second time he tugged, nothing happened. He tried once more, pulling with all his strength. The door moved another inch.

Fumbling around with the knife, he slid it into the crack and pushed against it. His makeshift lever did as much as his own hand had.

Fucking great.

“Hey, your little door is stuck.”

What the hell was the idiot doing? At this rate, they could have just killed me.

A loud static sound erupted from outside the door. “Sorry about that. Things never go according to plan.”

Footsteps grew closer to the door.

Varian moved away from the little opening and held the knife in front of him, the tip jutting out. “What’s going on?”

The air in the room tasted toxic. Each breath tasted worst than the last. He heard his pants echo in the small inclosure. It was hot and stuffy. A bead of sweat ran down the curve of his back. His shirt stuck to his skin. His hands were clammy.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He gripped the knife a little tighter.

“Just a little change of plans.” The footsteps stopped in front of the door and before Varian could say a word, the door slammed completely shut.

“Wait. What?” 

He grabbed onto the door with both hands, his fingers pushed into the small hole, and pulled as hard as he could. There was no release, no movement whatsoever. He slammed his fist onto the door and beat it until his hands became sore. Even then, he kept punching it with all his might. 

“What are you doing! Hey!”

His yells sounded like they weren’t making it through the thick walls. The wood didn’t feel special, but it must have been heavily insulated for his voice to be echoing so much. Of course, nothing was absorbed, only tossed back and forth between walls.

“Varian, Varian. Did you honestly think I would let you off for mouthing back to me? What kind of maniac would I be if I let my victims walk all over me?”

Fingers tapped against the door. “It wouldn’t be very…scary of me, would it?”

The fingers tapped harder. Varian flinched with each tap.

“It’s not how things work. Not here and not out there.”

The hand slammed against the door. Varian jumped back, holding the knife just a bit tighter.

“Answer me!”

He licked his lips. “Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

He imagined slicing through the hand and cutting the fingers off one by one. “I’m not scared. That’s not how it works.”

The voice hummed. “Good, puppet.”

The hand slid across the wood, ghosting along the cracks until it drifted away completely. A minute passed and then another. He couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t shake the feeling of shock and dread. The tunnel was smaller than he had taken it for. No longer did he feel like he could spread himself out. The air tasted non-breathable, the musk taking on a whole different form. 

It filled his lungs, clogging them like he was being forced to drink tar.

Whispers drifted in and out of his ears. He heard static and footsteps. Everything was a void of darkness and it was all pulling him in. The world spun out of focus, thrusting him further in than he wanted to go.

Then, with a gasp, he was yanked back to the real world.

“And what do bad puppets get?”

A latch above him snapped open. Waves of light washed over him—something else fell into the tunnel.

“Punishment.”

Hundreds of squirming black bugs covered him from head to toe.

Over his screams, the voice laughed.

The tiny legs raced across his skin, crawling up his legs and arms, sticking close to his neck and making their way to his face. He swiped them away with feverish hands. His legs kicked and knocked against the sides of the tunnel, but the bugs were still there. 

They clung to him as if they knew it would make things harder for him. He screamed at the top of his lungs. He cried for the voice to make them stop. As a last resort, he raked them off with the knife’s edge. Guts and his own blood stained every inch of him. 

The ones in his hair bit at his scalp. He shook them off and beat his head against the wall just to kill a few of them. They were everywhere. Touching his neck, trying to crawl up his shirt, nothing could stop them.

“Hm. I wonder if you’re having fun? Can’t see you without a light. How’s it going? Are they treating you nice?”

Varian slammed his fist against the small door. “You fucking motherfucker!”

“Ah-ah. That mouth is the main reason you’re in there. I’ll give you one more chance. Say please.”

One more chance his ass.

He swiped more bugs off of his chest as he thought about what he could do. On the off chance he could kill them all, he couldn’t guarantee more wouldn’t be thrown in. He also didn’t have a clue as to what these things were.