The Labyrinth

Act 1: Out of the Depths

Out of the Depths, O Lord, I cried for you, when I was driven to despair. But I found no comfort in your promises—no solace in my prayers.

Out of the Depths, O Lord, I cried for you, till my tears were running dry. But I found no meaning in your twisted words. No purpose in your lies.

Out of the Depths, O Lord, my curses rang, and finally, You replied. No comfort did you finally give. No purpose, peace, or death. From on high, Your fury rang—the only oath you kept.

Chapter I

The Edge of Madness

     I opened my eyes, feeling groggy. Regretting the nap I'd taken at my desk over lunch as the fog of sleep clouded my eyes and muddied my mind.

     Yawning, I stretched my back, hoping that the act of moving would help me wake up. But, as I finally opened my eyes and looked around, my post-nap stupor vanished as quickly as the morning dew in the desert. This wasn't my messy desk. It wasn't my small cubicle in the bland office I called home most days. Instead of my cubicle, filled with knickknacks, and pictures of friends and family, I saw a dank concrete room, much like I'd seen in so many of the stupid slasher movies I'd watched with my horror junkie friends over the years.

     Weirdly, I was seated at a desk identical to the one in my office—the chair was the same one I often napped in—the same chair I ate and often spilled my lunch. How had I, and my office, gotten down here? Did someone spike the coffee pot that I religiously drank in the breakroom? Is that why I felt so off when I woke up?

Looking around the room I'd awoken, I saw a door ajar. Standing from my desk, I ventured to the door and pushed it open, anxiety filling my body and mind as it swung open. I started to explore where I'd found myself—my thoughts racing, desperately hoping I could find an exit.

     How had I ended up here? Had I been abducted? Was this some kind of sick joke? As my thoughts ran, my anxiety mounted—feeling like a lead ball in my stomach. My aimless walking quickly became a desperate sprint to find an exit.

     Why wasn't there an elevator? Stairs? Something! Dim bulbs flickered above me as I sprinted through the dark. Long hallways stretching into infinity as I ran. Uniform, monotonous, never-ending. Eventually, I collapsed, sweating, exhausted, and on the verge of vomiting. "Fuck, what is this place?" I gasped as I tried to suck in air, leaning my back against the wall, desperately trying to catch my breath.

     "That wasn't a very good idea," I muttered to myself as the ache of exhaustion settled into my bones. Struggling back to my feet, I groaned in pain as my old knees popped, the ligaments clicking back into play as they passed over old breaks around the joint.

     "I'm definitely not doing that again," I said, wincing, "I got down here somehow, so there has to be a way out of here," I reasoned aloud. "I just need to find it." Starting my search again, I couldn't stop myself from regretting my aimless, pointless sprint through the darkness. I needed to be methodical about this. Break the place up bit by bit. Create a map in my head and spread out from there. Maybe mark the walls where I'd been? I could have sworn reading that in some old myth. Or was it a ball of string?

     "Fuck it, what's the worst that could happen." I said as I ventured deeper into the concrete maze around me.

      The basement was dank and reeked of mildew, its walls slick with moisture. The musky odor was nauseating and pervasive. As I searched, I traveled down countless halls and checked in ceaseless rooms, stumbling around in the darkness to see if I could find anything in them. But, each room was empty, each hall vacant, with only dust and cobwebs to fill them. As I continued to explore the basement, I came to the sickening realization that this place was vast, nearly labyrinthine in nature. A maze filled with endless hallways and empty rooms, barely illuminated with only the dimmest of lights—many of the halls and rooms were shrouded wholly in darkness—the inky, impenetrable blackness concealing whatever contents the rooms may have contained.