koury in the backrooms ; sinjin drowning

barnacle savage

Days slowly started to blend. Before the two realised, they had already spent a full week in the backrooms. Their day would usually consist of waking up, following the group for some looting and then returning to sleep. It was starting to get repetitive. They couldn't complain about their living conditions, given that they were living in the backrooms, but they desperately did want to go someplace else.
"Everyone, this is Barnacle Savage," Sinjin announced, "He's a traveller who's quite famous throughout the Backrooms! Give him a warm welcome as he stays with us."
Barnacle Savage looked well-equipped. He wore tactical gear, with a sash of machine gun ammo hanging from his vest and pocket daggers hanging from his belt, within his reach. His face was stern, adorned with a couple of scratches, scars and stress lines.

That day, Weston contemplated talking to the man. If he was famous across the backrooms, that surely had to be because of some reason, right? If he travelled across the backgrounds, maybe he knew about a potential exit.
"Hello, Everyone," Barnacle said, "I'm going to be staying on Level 1 for a few days, but will be leaving soon. I hope I'm not too much of a burden for everyone here. Thank you."
"Oh, brother..." Kalynn rolled her eyes, murmuring, "This guy stinks."
She didn't lie. You could almost see clouds of green emitting from Mr Savage's clothes.
"I heard that, missy."
Barnacle Savage turned to Kalynn as the crowd parted, leaving the man and the siblings standing alone.
"Sorry." She said, head low.
The stench was even stronger as he approached the two. She sniffed, trying to breathe from her mouth in an attempt to block out his rancid smell.

The siblings rushed out of that awkward situation, heading back to their tarp. Kalynn emptied her pockets, revealing a variety of small items that she'd looted.
"Kalynn. Why did you say that to that Barnacle guy?!" Weston shouted.
"Didn't think he'd hear me!" Kalynn sighed, "Besides, why is he even here at Level 1 out of all places?"
"Dunno, but I think I might talk to him, Koury."
Weston rose from his sleeping bag, unplugging his phone from the charging port and zipping his bomber jacket up.
"Alright, Weston. What've you got on your mind?"
The boy paused, turning to his sister.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm saying that I think you've got some kind of motive," Kalynn crossed her arms, "Why else would you want to talk to that guy?"
"I can talk to him if I want to," Weston responded quietly, "But I'll tell you if he tells me anything about... y'know, the Backrooms."

Weston continued walking, not looking back at his sister who stood in front of their tarp, motionless.
The camp's layout was quite dynamic. The main tarps were the most nearest to the industrial-style room's exit and the most well-lit out of the entire area. Near the farther end of the room was where everybody set up their sleeping bags or tarps. It was darker there; the main source of light was simple camping lamps that everybody had their own.
Weston had his hands in his pockets, looking around in hopes of seeing the Barnacle.
Amidst groups of troops sitting down, chattering about, was the man himself. His stare remained focused as he began sharpening his daggers with a loose chunk of rubble, swiping the object against the blade.
The Koury brother slowly approached the man until Savage saw Weston walking towards him.
"Mr Savage-" Weston began to say.
"Please, call me Barnacle," Savage smirked, ushering Weston to take a seat on the ground with him.
"Well, Mr Barnacle... I wanted to know," Weston sat down, "Where bouts do you travel?"
"Ah, a curious one. Been a while since I've talked to someone like you, boy. What's your name?" The man asked, placing his dagger down, grinning.
"Koury; Weston Koury."
"Well, Weston," he started, "I've seen eyes like yours before—dangerous. How long 'you been here? A day? A week? However long you've been in here; stop counting the days. You're going to be in this place for the rest of your life, boy."
"That wasn't what I was asking, sir," Weston looked him in the eye, expressionless, "I want to know more about the different levels of this place."
Barnacle sighed, picking up his dagger once more and sharpening it.
"I've been here for a few years, Weston," he said, speaking over the scrapes of his blade against the stone, "What levels are you curious about?"
"I want to go someplace safe, with many people."
"You're already here! Level 1's not too shabby, y'know—lots of people. The strongest entity you'll find here is a hound, and I'm sure you've defeated one before."
"That might be true," Koury nodded, "But I'm just curious."
Savage paused, dropping his dagger and whipping out a notebook.
The notebook was creased, and dried from being soaked. The man quickly flipped across the pages, revealing page upon page of messy handwriting.
"...What's that?" Weston asked curiously.
"This? This is the only thing keeping me going while I live in this hell: the only thing keeping me from ending it all."
Savage froze at a page, flipping the notebook so that Weston could read it:

Rumour has it that Mariah Carey, at age 45, was able to escape the Backrooms by bargaining with the Keymaster. She managed to go back to the Frontrooms after experiencing a full week here.

Weston looked up at Savage with a confused look, about to ask a frenzy of questions.
"In all my years of living in the Backrooms," Savage scoffed, "I've only met one escapee."
"What—no—who? Who is this Keymaster?" Weston asked, handing the notebook back to the older man.
A devious little smile appeared on Barnacle Savage's face.

"The most powerful man down here."

Weston returned to the tarp, Savage's words echoing in his head.
"Now, boy, I leave tomorrow. You can join me if you please."
The Koury boy shook his head in frustration, thinking hard about his options. He could potentially follow Barnacle Savage to any other whereabouts in the backrooms, or he could stay here in the damp hallways of Level 1. He knew he had to tell Kalynn about it, but he really didn't know how she'd react.
"Weston, you're back," she said, looking up from her phone.
"Yeah..." Weston said outlandishly, "Look, Kalynn, I have something to say."
Kalynn closed her phone, her eyes meeting her brother's as she noticed his oddly serious face.
"What's going on?" she asked, "Sit down."
Weston sat on his sleeping bag, inhaling and exhaling deeply.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
"...What do you mean, leaving?" Her gaze hardened, "Don't tell me that guy said something weird."
"Look, I'm gonna leave Level 1 with Mr Barnacle," he explained, "I hope you can join."
"Mr Barnacle?! What's gotten into you, Weston?" Kalynn protested, "Where are you heading to?"
"There's this guy called the Keymaster. He can help us go anywhere, Kalynn!" Weston yelled.
"What makes you think that he'll help you?!"
"He's helped wanderers; it's the only reason he's there. Please, Kalynn, let's just try," he looked down at his feet, "We can always come back to Level 1 if things don't go right."
Kalynn's gaze softened as she sighed, shaking her head slowly.
"I can't stop you from going anywhere; I think we both know that, Weston. I'll go with you." Kalynn finally said in a steady tone of voice.
"Okay."

Kalynn had difficulty drifting to sleep that night. She didn't know a single thing about the Backrooms, and yet she was going to be following a stinky man to an unknown territory.
The only thing she could hope was that they'd be able to escape. Whether it took days, weeks, months, years or decades, she was prepared to set foot back into the Frontrooms—the real world.