When It Rains, It Pours...

A Yellow Ghost

Stanley only took a single step into the bosses office before he began to regret his decision. A wave of nausea washed over him, The office felt like it was spinning ever so slightly. Stanley had to hold onto the door frame in order to keep from wobbling.

"Stanley! Stanley are you okay? What on earth-" the narrator seamed to stop in his tracks just as Stanley was finally able to actually focus on the scene in front of him.

The wallpaper was warped, papers and  random items where scattered around and occasionally missing there textures. But it wasn't anything like the confusion ended he had encountered once or twice, this had him feeling physically sick. It all just felt... wrong.

Stanley shakily pulled his hands from where they had been steding himself and signed "what is going on?" But there was no reply. He could tell the Narrator was still there, at least he thought so, perhaps simply speechless. Stanley laughed at that thought, the Narrator Speechless?

It didn't take long for the silence to grow to long for Stanley's patience though, so he forged onward, deciding it was to late to turn around. He did his best pushing through the nausea and walking around the catastrophe of a room, eventually ending up at the elevator door. He stepped inside, feeling the floor sink ever so slightly.

He nervously backed up against the far wall as he felt the elevator shift again. He was falling, no not falling plummeting as the ear piercing screech of the elevator rang out. With the door not having closed he could both see and feel how fast it was going. Stanley clung to the wall attempting to brace for impact, his eyes closed tight.

Then nothing, no crash, no slowing down, not even a sudden stop. Stanley opens his eyes to see the dark unkempt corridor Infront of him. Stanley stood up fixing his shirt and crept forwards. At least Visually, the hallway to the mind control facility was the same as it always was but that nasty feeling Stanley had was still fermly rooted.

It didn't take long for him to reach the doors to the facility. pushing them open Stanley was hit with another wave of nausea, he felt like he was submerged in water for a moment then the bite of electricity up his spine. When it all began to fade he found himself, not Infront of a wall of screens but another set of closed doors.

Looking around for a moment Stanley realized he was now at the doors of the mind control room. Stanley's head raced with an onslaught of thoughts. 'What is happening? How did I git here? Why does all this feel so wrong? Where the hell is the Narrator!'

Stanley practically rammed through the doors. A blinding light forced his eyes closed, he felt tears prick at the corners. Attempting to block out most of the light with his hands Stanley cautiously stepped forward, squinting to try and git a view of anything. When his eyes finally landed on something he felt his jaw drop.

Standing Infront or the control board he saw a figure not shadowed by any of the abrasive lights. The figure was not solid seming almost ghostly, the yellow outline of a man just a tad taller than Stanley himself. With short hair and a full suit. Stanley shifted slightly letting his hands fall to his sides.

This seemed to catch the figures attention as he quickly turned towards him. Stanley's gaze meet no eyes, just a set of glasses more opaque than the rest of the man. He felt familiar but Stanley was sure he'd never met him, he'd never met anyone in the parable. Except a voice or two.

"Stanley?..."

The Narrator's voice did not come from inside Stanley's head like it usually did. It wasn't accompanied by any clicks. It didn't feel so far yet so close. It was right there Infront of him. Stanley opened his mouth and the quietest voice rang out.

"Narrator?"

Stanley's vision blurred and he felt his legs collapse beneath him. The last thing he saw was yellow hands stretched out towards him, then everything went black.