i wanna feel lethal on the inside, i wanna read american psycho again

> Dave: Noclip.

The first thing you see when you pry your aching eyes open is yellow. It's oddly bright and piercing, so you shut your eyes again. It does nothing to relieve your splitting headache, but as you wake up more, you recognize the soft buzz sound of overhead lights and the smell of damp carpet. Not just the smell, you think as you hold back a gag and shudder at the feeling of moisture sinking into your clothes.

Despite your brain still screaming at you not to, you open your eyes again to figure out just where the hell you are. Your vision swims and you prop yourself up with your elbow. You try your best not to cringe at the feeling of your sleeve soaking in stale water and squint as you attempt to look around for a second time.

Okay, you severely underestimated how fucking yellow this place is. Even the wallpaper, which you realize takes on a different pattern for each wall, is littered with shades of beige and mustard and other yellow looking colors you can't quite name, making up designs that pull an odd sense of nostalgia from you. The moist carpet you lay on is darker, probably due to the water fossilized inside of it, but still light enough to keep its identity as a yellow. The ceiling is equipped with those cheap, rectangle shaped, fluorescent lights that you've only seen in movies and shows. Mostly in hospital rooms, actually, but those lights were harsher and brighter than any of these could even dream of being. These are musty and dim, and you think if you figured out how to dismantle one, there would probably be mold on the inside, too. And the structure of it, god, it is something else. Each room, opening, and threshold seems randomized and/or artificially placed there, and you wouldn't admit this to anyone but it kind of makes you want to hurl.

You mutter a "what the fuck," under your breath and look down to assess yourself. You still have everything you came here with, including the shit in your sylladex and your... shit, your shades! You whip a hand up to your face to find your glasses, but come up empty handed. That's why those damn lights are so bright.

You scan the floor for anything of note and find your shades just a few feet away. How you didn't notice them before is beyond you, but your shoulders sag in relief as you stretch your arm out for them and haphazardly place them on your face. The relief is instant, and you can finally see without having to squint at everything like an old fuck.

With your newfound vision, you prop yourself up with the wall that was behind you when you fell(specifically the wall littered with a 'w' looking, vertical brick design) and force yourself up. It doesn't take much effort, but your vision spins, and you lean heavily on the wall. But it's chill. Nothing you haven't dealt with before, probably just a minor concussion from the fall.

Wait. The fall? You look at the spot on the ceiling above where you were previously sprawled out on the floor. There's nothing there but tiled ceiling. Where the fuck did you fall from?

Putting that and the fact that you are totally freaking out aside, you observe the (really fuckin' dirty, like oh my god someone needs to vacuum here or something)floor again and see your shitty headset a couple steps away from where your shades were moments before. You push yourself off the wall, careful to not faceplant when you start getting dizzy again, snatch them, and lean back to your spot.

You aren't planning to put them back on, only to captchalogue them and move on, but as you hold them, you hear familiar voices leaking from the speakers. Without being plugged in. You find this slightly(very) suspicious, but put them on immediately.

"-been mostly walking around and exploring whatever is near me. I don't wanna get lost, everything here is so weird." You hear John's voice blast from the speaker and you could almost cry. Thank god for dollar store headphones with shitty dollar store speakers that don't confine the noise to strictly your ears.

Jade starts agreeing with him, but you interrupt her. "Guys?"

"Dave!" John and Jade both practically yell through the foam material. "Holy shit, man, where did you go?"