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Prologue

Congratulations, you just died! 

The bold words sprang out of the banner that suspended down from the endless white expanse of space. I squinted at the words in confusion and reached for my face to adjust my glasses only for my face to feel light. Before my hand could stop, it moved further than it usually does, smacking my eye painfully. The sharp pain elicited a grunt which seemed to simultaneously fill and leave the space.

If I was dead, would I not feel pain? Where did my glasses go? This can’t be some sick joke.

The pain subsided, leaving me to survey my surroundings. The space seemed to extend to infinity in both directions, void of any other living organism. Just below my knees rested the hem of a white skit. Down at my feet were canvas shoes without soles. I lifted up my foot in fascination, pondering on how this bland article of clothing was in my possession. A subtle breeze brushed just above my head. I raised my head up to notice the banner seemingly vibrate, the bold black writing changing. I once had to squint at the new words.

Transitional stage, get ready to run!

I peered to the left and right of me heavily questioning the banner but also questioning if I had read the banner correctly. Without any other source of information on the liminal space, I stretched to the sky, noticing how the light sleeves of a white shirt flowed around my arm instead of dropping. Gravity seemed to be abnormal. The banner showed signs of movement. It began to violently shake, carrying stronger winds from above my head. The banner suddenly dropped to a lower level, black swirls of ink piecing together to form a singular word. Run.

The ink from the word shot out of the banner, forming sharp tips comparative to flying daggers aimed at me. If it wasn’t obvious, my next course of action was to run. The expanse of white showed no signs of ending. The inky spikes flew after me.
At some point, the cloth shoes failed me where I unceremoniously face-planted on the white ground. The air knocked out my lungs, leaving me wheezing on the floor. I watched in horror at the ink swirled into a large arrow.

Ain’t no way physics works like this but then again since when did physics work.

The arrow was advancing, closer and closer. This is not the time to think. I pushed myself up off the floor with my arms, regaining footing to push off the ground. I half stumbled, half sprinted as I felt something wet blotch the back of my skirt. I slightly turned my head and out of peripheral vision, ink had dyed the ends of the skirt that dragged behind, the arrow right at my tail. I internally cried and prayed for some opening to hide from the arrows. As if my prayers were heard, a doorway appeared amidst the nothingness of the space. 

I reached for the doorknob of the door. I glanced behind to find that the arrow had dissipated. As my hand landed on the doorknob, a hot searing pain jolted up my hand to my arm. I retracted my hand quickly from the burning metal, cradling my injured hand. The door opened ajar where yellow-orange dust blew in. I pushed the door open with my uninjured hand. Face met with brutal whipping winds, I raised my arm up to cover my nose and mouth from inhaling foreign particles. In a trance taking on a queer illogical dream, I passed the threshold, closing the door behind me. A voice rang in my head.

The transition stage breached, new life acquired, wiping memories in 3…2…1…