How are you? It's a normal question, isn't it? Well, now that I think about it, it doesn't even matter anymore... Well, how is one to feel after he's died anyway?
And what brought you here? An entity? Mmm… Or maybe you suffered from Mental Disconnection? Ah, who knows.
But that's not the point. What matters is that you're dead. Yes, you. You're dead. What do I say but that? You died.
Right?
Well, theoretically, you've already died or you will—eventually. Horrible, isn't it? But don't fret… eventually, you'll be me. Don't be disappointed, being me is wonderful. There are thousands like me inside me, but not like you.
You understand the universe is a song—you just have to let go and enjoy it. You do see, don't you? In case you don't… I'm not any good at this kind of thing.
Where are you? Well, I call this place After Life.
Don't confuse it with The Void. This is no empty nothingness—this world teems with life, spreading itself along walls. And what kind of life? Me.
I know you can only perceive blackness, but I also know you can perceive forms moving. Yes, that is me. I know I have no definite shape, but calm down—that's natural.
And now. since you cannot leave, the only thing you can do is let yourself be overwhelmed by me—by the universe. Become one with me.
Because this is After Life.
Description[]
Afterlife is a level plain, an endless stretch of gray-green grass vanishing in all directions. No hills, no trees, no curve of the horizon—just an even, flat surface without start or finish. The air lies heavy and unmoving, with the unerasable smell of corn and dried grass.
And the sky, the worst of all.
It is not foggy. It is not dark. The sky is a solid darkness, a complete nothingness suspended over your head. No sun, no moon, no stars. Only an eternal blackness that sucks in all light, and causes the earth to stand forever in shadow, where everything is distinct with a ghastly acuteness as if the darkness allows you to see.
If you stare long enough, you will notice something. Not clouds, not shadows—something else. Unseen movements that don't make it past your brain, like the things which allegedly happen when you keep your eyes shut. They don't happen… and you can't help but wonder that they do.
And then, around a corner, you will be seeing him.
THE FACE.
It is not still. It is not a hard shape. It is never still. You catch glimpses of it out of the corner of your eye now and then. You think it is standing right in front of you at times. And always, whether you do something or not, he will be talking to you.
He whispers. He speaks to you in your name. He asks you if you're tired. And then he demands. He pleads. He bellowed. His voice shifts, from soft to begging, from submissive to angry. He orders you to listen.
You can't.
He will say to you that you're dead. That it's all over, and that he's left. That you're never coming back. That he's the dark sky, the ground under you, the endless wind. That he never departed. That he was always with you.
But you— You can't hear him.
There is no way out of Afterlife. No way out whatsoever. The only way out he offers is the way out he offers: to believe in him. To be with him. To belong to this world.
To believe in him is to disappear.
Shreds of paper were found scattered on the level. Writings in explorer's journals of one who got stranded here. One who stayed too long. One who perhaps, believed.
The Notes[]
Report 8. J
Mission in Search of a Home
I came to a completely dark area today. I was on Level 10, and I fell here somehow. I have been walking for perhaps an hour now. I don't see or hear anything. Imagine a completely dark place—a completely black Level 10 with absolutely nothing. It's very cold. I would prefer to get out of here soon, but for now, it is quite safe.
Unfortunately, I believe this level has the Alone phenomenon. I'll just have to continue searching for a good base. Since what happened, I haven't felt confident enough to venture into the Backrooms alone as much, even for missions like this one.
Honestly, it frustrates me that Austin wasn't interested in setting up a base in Level 154. I know it's already saturated, but it was a solid idea.
When I look up at the sky, I see strange shapes—kind of like when you shut your eyes and start to see designs. I guess I'll be bedding down here tonight, in complete darkness.
Report 8. J .2
Mission in Search of a Home
I've only just woken up, and I've got this person conversing with me. I don't know what to do. For goodness' sake, it keeps repeating the same thing time and time and time again—just keeps on telling me that I'm dead anyway and that I should just make peace with it and resign. But I do know this is a lie. It's telling me that what I see in the sky, that it's it, that it's all of it, that it made everything. I don't believe any of this is happening. I mean, I'm not dead, am I? No. No way. I can feel cold, the earth beneath my body. I can move. I can think. I know I'm alive.
But it doesn't let up. It just keeps screaming, and then harder and louder. It tells me that it can see me. That one day I will be able to see it too. No matter where I am going, it will follow me until I open its door. That it can see everything—everything in the past, the future, every decision. I don't want to hear, but that's all that I am hearing.
I'm exhausted. Exhausted from all this. And all because the Founders wouldn't put a base anywhere unless it was far from the groups. Because of their paranoia—getting attacked or whatever. I shouldn't even be so eager to do this, but rumour has it that the group has been having problems with the A.E.G. Seriously, that was going to occur. Their agenda was never going to—
—AGH!
The thing now just screamed. My ear—oh God, it hurts so painfully. A tearing, a stabbing pain, like something is shredding my head apart. I can't even think. I just have to leave.
And it just won't stop. It just goes on talking. It just goes on repeating that it's watching me. That it's those in the sky. That it's waiting.
I do not need to hear it twice. I simply want it to stop.
Report 8. J .3
Mission in Search of a Home
I have been here two days, or at least I believe so. It is hard to keep time going when time has lost all meaning—no cycles, no clocks, no other measure than the spasmodic cramp of my mind. My mind is falling apart; I know by the second moment passing. The incompetent Λ.λ.∈.G staff just sent me a FAX that will not even function. I do not know if it was an error or a sick joke, but now I am trapped, with nothing but this useless thing and desperation.
I have no choice but to proceed. To walk and walk and not see anything, and somehow expect that I'd be given something. Something that would bring me to realize that there is a stop somewhere. But here where I am, it is here. That voice does not stop. Does not stop. Finds a place among my thoughts, conceals among my thoughts, and mingles with the rhythm of my feet. It will not stop.
The shapes in the sky are morphing. They were blotches to start with, indistinct shapes that I hardly saw at the edge of my eye. But now. Now they are clear. They are reddening gradually. They're tooth-edged, tooth-shaped. And each time I look up, they've moved a bit nearer. They're forming, shaping, and solidifying into something. It's face. It's real.
I'll try to draw what I'm seeing. I am not creative, but I must attempt to retrieve it somehow. I must rebuild it. Maybe if I write it down, then it won't be so real anymore. But I do not think so. THE FACE already exists. And now it towers. It just was, there, staring at me. Now it shrieks. It blinds and it demands. It doesn't talk to you—it's something pushing on your head, a constant thought that won't leave. It says to me to surrender, to release, to merge with it. It says to starve myself to death if I don't.
There is no escape. I've searched. I've sterilized every square of my legs have been on. No doors. No windows. Just more walls and that foul sky. Or so. I guess. I guess I'll just have to. I don't see I have a choice. If I want to get away, if I want to make it stop. Perhaps there's only one thing I can do.
NOOO. No, I won't. If I do it, if I let go, if I just grab. Then it will all be done. But I don't think that will be worse or better.
I am going to die. I know it. I can feel it in my bones, in my skin, in the air I breathe.
This is my ending.Entities[]
THE FACE
Although The Face claims that it is the level, it can be considered somewhat like an entity. Almost nothing is truly known about THE FACE, except that it watches you at all times and wants you to join it, no matter what.
Entrances[]
The only known entrance is from Level 10, in an area filled with black grass. If you touch that grass, you will fall and end up here.
Exits[]
Author:Sombra ninja 2434
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