The Backrooms: Descent into Madness (REWRITE IN PROGRESS)

Chapter V - Populace.

The humming fluorescent lights of the garage flickered and buzzed in the reverberant room. The echoes of the settlers' feet filled the chamber, and not a word dared to protest the silence. Most seemed to shuffle about with little drive and some strutted with naive confidence. They say the devil is in the details, and I saw nothing but unbridled despair and naive simple-mindedness in the patterns of the settlers' march.

I walked with Johnathan at the front of the herd while he carefully dialed a series of commands into a strange hand-held device. When I asked him about the device he called it the "GPS: Complex Edition." I simply nodded and continued my silent march with the Settlers. As we traveled, I began to notice small details about the Complex that I hadn't been able to dedicate attention to before, mostly for fear of losing my life.

Much of the architecture was enigmatic, with a jarring lack of pragmatism. Some staircases led to walls, many doors were in impossible positions, and furniture seemed to clip into the environment or would appear in the strangest places. We traveled for hours, before making a stop to rest for the night. Night was not something dictated by time here, but rather by level of exhaustion. The Settlers set about pitching tents, making sure to remain clustered together for safety. The men and women who might have been mechanics and engineers in a world that seems so distant now set about pitching floodlights and alarm snares. I assisted in the pitching of one of the sleeping tents, but I was interrupted by a soft pat on the shoulder. "Hey boy, we need to change the bandages on that arm o' yours," came Doc's thick accent. I nodded to him absent-mindedly, completing my task before turning to him.

He walked me to the medical tent, sitting me down on a metal fold-out table. He carefully unwrapped the bloody, sweat-stained bandages and set them on a metal cart. He then pulled out a fresh, clean-looking roll and began to wrap my severed elbow. "I'm... I'm sorry your first day here has been so miserable. You're lucky you found us when you did, or you'd be dead for sure." He spoke in a tone that reminded me of my grandfather. He seemed to be a very pragmatic man who could soften up when he needed to, qualities that filled me with nostalgia. I nodded, watching his movements carefully. He seemed to know his way around first aid with remarkable expertise, just who was this man before his fall? When he had finished wrapping my arm tightly, he patted me on the shoulder. "You'll do fine." he didn't elaborate on what he meant by this, but I prefer to believe he meant it in a broad sense. I gave him a curt nod, before sliding off the table to my feet. Patting him on the shoulder as I left, I threw my shirt on and looked out at the camp.

The fluorescent lights continued to hum above us, making it impossible to be at ease. The settlers seemed miserable, trying to rest in various areas around the camp, their restless figures illuminated by lanternlight were cast on the cloth tents. I began to walk to my tent, preparing myself for my own battle to achieve sleep. Just then, a loud click resounded, not unlike stage lights cutting, and the entire chamber, and seemingly the chambers beyond, were bathed in a murky gloom. My heartrate spiked and I began to sweat, reminded of the nightmare I had experienced in the hotel. I looked around frantically, expecting a Smiler to be stalking already. I felt a hand clasp on my shoulder and I turned ready to pitch a blow in reflex, only to see it was John. "No need to panic, our technicians found a power box." He said, unphased by my panic. I took a deep breath and nodded, feeling slightly foolish. He turned and walked back to his tent, and I looked back at the camp. The settler's seemed much more at peace in their sleep rather than this waking nightmare. Maybe they found refuge in sleep from what their lives had become, and only in their dreams could they see the lives they left behind. With a concluding huffy breath, I walked to the tent designated for me and settled in for the night.

I awoke to the loud click of the lights powering on once again, with the incessant buzzing returning as well. I lazily crawled out of my tent to see that the others were all doing the same thing. John stood outside his tent, eyes cast upward, before looking back at the camp. "We set out in an hour, pack the gear you are responsible for, and eat in that time! We will arrive at the MEG Primary Operating Base approximately five hours after departure!" Everyone immediately set about packing equipment, as did I, packing my tent and supplementary rations with haste. As I was doing so, a man walked around with a box, passing a can of liquid to each person he passed.

When he arrived at me, he passed me a can of what was labeled as "Almond Water." I looked at him with confusion, but he simply continued passing out the cans. He didn't seem too friendly. I read the back label, revealing that all the ingredients were blacked out except for "Almond Juice," something I doubted existed, and "Water." There was another label that read "Feeling insane? Almond Water saves the day! Hydration, Sustenance, Sanity! Available Today and any day if you live long enough to find it!" I shook off the pitchy nature of the label and felt my thirst and hunger return to me. Doc must've given me an IV or water shot when I was unconscious or I'd have felt much more dehydrated, but I was rather parched after yesterday's trek.

I opened the can with a satisfactory click and chugged the liquid. It tasted exactly as described, "Almond Water." I felt hydrated, yes, but I also felt strangely full. I didn't feel, happier, per se, but I felt more grounded. It was as if the world had been spinning around me violently, but this liquid put a stop to it in an instant. As I finished packing my supplies, John approached me and tapped my shoulder. "When we arrive at the Primary Operations Base, you should report to the registration tent. They'll get you logged and registered into the database." I nodded and finished bagging up my equipment. Two settlers helped me lift the bag into one of the carts, and we set off for the Primary Operations Base.

For long hours we trekked under the glaring lights, where time has no dominion and life is a privilege. As we walked across the damp, cracked concrete, puddles dominated the locale, splashing and gushing in small streams around our feet. We crossed the threshold of a hallway, my expectation being another hallway as it had been for hours. My expectations were smashed in an instant. A large camp sprawled out before us, arranged in a semi-circle. The massive chamber we were in was akin to a warehouse with large spotlights hanging from the ceiling. This encampment was by no means a city, but the fact that someone had arranged what seemed to be a functioning town in this place? That was a truly massive feat. As we walked into camp people seemed to stop and stare, not expecting us to return so soon I presumed, and the caravan approached the center of camp.

Our group slowly dissolved as people split off to go return equipment to where it belonged, seemingly relieved of duty by protocol, but Johnathan gestured for me to follow him. "Let's get you registered." He led me to a smaller tent to the side of the massive one, where multiple computers sat at desks inside. He gave me simple instructions on how to register and departed without another word. The tent reminded me of a computer lab, and it was strangely empty. They must not get many new travelers. I sat at an empty desk and powered on the old Tandy that sat atop it.

The same booting sound from when I listened to Johnathan's message in Level 2 chimed before loading into a user information page. It asked for simple things like first name, last name, age, and it asked me to make a password and security question. Once all was done, it simply said, "Congratulations on joining the MEG! Please report to the career tent within one minute or you will be evicted!" I shot out of my chair and sprinted across the camp, running like a bat out of hell toward the career tent.