No-Clipped

Chapter 5: B.N.T.G

The man stood over my head. I covered my face, embarrassed to be seen in the state I was in...scared. Wheezing. Tears running down my face. He was wearing a dark red hoodie which was zipped up in the middle and had pockets on both sides of his chest, as well as a beard and shoulder length dark brown hair pulled back into a bun. He was muscular with broad shoulders and very tall...and by very tall I mean VERY tall. He had to be at least 6'5.

     "Whoa whoa whoa...'The Backrooms'? Is that what this place is called? How long have you been standing there? Who are you?!" I rambled.

     The man chuckled. "Slow down there, kiddo."

     I hopped off of the bench I assumed he had lay me down on while I was asleep. I looked up at him.

"Don't call me kiddo." I snapped. He leaned over to match my height, his large hands on his knees.

"How old are you then?"

"17." After my reply, the two of us stood there in silence for a solid five seconds...until he burst into laughter, slapping his right knee.

"17?! I assumed you were 12 at the very least!" I stared at him with an unamused expression. "You're tiny! What are you, 5'0?" He paused in between every word to catch his breath.

"I'm not tiny. You're just huge." He stood up and stared at me. "...and I'm 5'2."

He continued laughing until he was practically crying. "I'm not short, I'm vertically challenged." I said. "And YOU never answered any of my questions."

"Hahah—! Ver-vertically challenged-! You're funny." He cleared his throat. "The names Dave."

I scoffed. "What are you doing judging me with a name like Dave?"

"Ohohoho—! I like your guts, kid. Now, you gonna tell me yours?"

"Wyatt. Wyatt Conner." I said, picking up my backpack and strapping it to my shoulders. I quickly stuffed my panda inside.

"Come on." He said, walking forward down the pavement. I followed behind.

"To answer your other questions before, yes. We are currently in a place called a liminal space, better known as the Backrooms, which you enter by no-clipping through walls, floors, rifts, et cetera."

"No-clipping?" I tilted my head to the side.

"No-clipping is a gamer term, used when you unintentionally glitch through something and end up somewhere else. The Backrooms is this alternate reality or dimension...we aren't really sure...that you can no-clip into from the real world if you're not careful. It's a mystery. We are currently in level 1."

"Level 1? But this is the second 'level' I've been in."

"Level 0, or the 'lobby' as some of us like to call it, isn't exactly a level. It's like a starting point. Level 1 is known to us as the warehouse, or the habitable zone since it is a suitable to live in. There are hundreds, maybe even THOUSANDS of levels as far as I know. I've only ever been in two, being the lobby and this one, but I've known people who have explored more. There's an amusement park level, a hotel, a flower garden—"

"Whoa whoa whoa, you said as 'we' like to call it. Who's 'we'? Where are we going?"

"B.N.T.G; 'Backrooms national trading grounds'. It's one of the few outposts located on level 1." He replied. I smiled. It was nice knowing I wasn't alone in this infinite reality.

"What makes it so dangerous to fall asleep in odd levels? It's so specific." I asked.

"Even more specifically, you can't fall asleep on the floor of an odd level. That's why I moved you over to a bench. And that nightmare you were having?" He said, his voice with a deep undertone. "That was the pinhead entity, known for making you lucid dream and convincing you to stay in that state until your body weakens and dies in real life." I shuttered.