I walked into the building where the cat disappeared into. now, to understand why i hesitated at the door, i'll describe what the cat itself looked like. its fur was black, and slightly mangy, half-inch bald spots just starting to form. it look like it wa in the stages of going in between malnourished and regularly nourished, as you could see hints of its bones. its eyes were the most craziest thing about it. they looked old, too old for a cat or any living thing. and it had a presence about it, which made whomever was around it lul into a sense of sincerity, as if the strange cat could do nothing harmful to you of anyone. it made you want to trute it kindly, do do whatever it wanted you to do, mostly the urge to follow it. i knew i really souldent follow it, but i was curious. as i walked in, an overpowering and pervading smell of rotting flesh and things flesh produces hit me. i was considering of going back when i heard a mechanism behind ,me. i turned around judft in time to see the door being sealed behind me. i rushed to the stone blocking the door. i picked up a stick from the floor then. i banged on the stone with it for about a minute, then check my progress. oh joy, not a scratch. but what am i think, i chided myself, like a stick could do anything against a large stone slab.
“i really should control myself better.” i muttered to myself. i slumped to the floor, leaning against the stone. i look down the hallway. torches were placed along the walls so that there would be large areas of darkness separating the small areas of light. not really inviting. at that moment, i heard a series of beeps i fished around in my pocket until i found that wird wrist clockwork vortex manipulator thing. on the small screen a message was written: Come on, old boy, no use in sitting around all day, get on with it! okay, i thought, i fitted around with it until a small qwerty keyboard popped out. i typed a quick response: okay then stalker, so tell me, who are you and how do you know what i'm doing?. the reply came quickly: First of, you already know me, although you probably don't remember because of the crisis. well let me tell you, I’m Not a Fear. I am Head Librarian, Head Curator, The Doormaster, The Barman, Mister C, John Doe, A. Wizard, The Chronicler, Richard Roe, Smithy Weston, That guy who hangs out in B&Q, Him by the record player, Etcetera Etcetera. remind you of anyone? My response: $@%& you, you cryptic fish. i shut off the device, got up, and started walking. then i ran back towards the slab yelling (i was trying to put the domain into a false sense of security. i know, bad idea, but i hadn't slept for a while and my brain rilly wasint fucunoing at full capasity). i stop in my tracks, realizing that the “stone slab” was a humongous touth. i gave the walls an apprehensive closer look. just as i suspected, bone. living bone, the floor was slightly damp flesh, and the rug was actually a tongue thing. i checked it. comply connected to the ground thank goodness for that. call me old fashion, but i don't want to be wrapped up in a tongue, dragged to a mouth, the be chewed and digested. lastly, i investigated the nearest torch to me. it was a vain of some sort of valve vomiting out methane or other flammable gas and it was being ignited by a weird flesh thing that had a wooden stick thing growing out of it, embering at the end, with cased the gas to eging. i compared my stick to the stick on the wall. match. stick mets floor. i ran.
* * *
The Hall ended in a large circular orifice like valve. i really didn't want to touch it, but i got almost irresistible urge to touch it. as i was about to toch it, i opened. i fhed in rerlife. i enter a extremely, almost impossible large room
(OUT OF STORY NOTE: DUE TO TIME RESTRICTIONS, I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO FINISH THIS AT THIS CURRENT TIME)
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