welcome to trench

they want to make you forget

I used to be free. I always took it for granted. My old job was so normal. I used to work an office job from nine to five. I really shouldn't have gone out that one night. Here's what happened.

I was out alone in the forest trying to clear my mind. I'd been stressed out about work all day and I just wanted to relax. I didn't think my life could get any worse. My boss was being rude and he made me sort papers, which is my least favourite thing to do. I hear someone stepping on the crisp leaves that were laying on the ground. I whipped around just to see that no one was there. I continued walking forwards, trying to forget whatever just happened. I kept walking for another ten minutes or so, and I heard the noise again. This time, it sounded even closer to me. I turned around and heard someone rush past me, to my right. I look to see someone on a white horse wearing a red cloak that covered most of their face. I stopped walking instantly when I saw the person turn around so they were facing me.

He looked straight at me and said words that I still can't figure out to this day. "Dema needs more people like you in it, under it". In it, under it. He slowly approached me as if he thought I was some dangerous animal. Once he was around a meter away, he reached out to touch my bare arm. It left a stinging sensation, an uncomfortable one. His touch left a black mark on my skin. I felt myself get weak. As I was confused as to what he was doing, I suddenly feel unable to control what's happening around me. He drags me off somewhere as I close my eyes.

I wake up laying on a bed. A really hard one at that. As I try to lift my head up, I realize that I'm not in my bedroom. I'm in a small, mostly grey room. I try to remember what happened to get me somewhere that I don't recognize at all. I try my best to find something that would remind me of something, anything. I look around the room for a couple of minutes before finally noticing something on my arm. It's three black marks that look like someone dragged paint or something along those lines down a small section of my arm. I can't remember where or when this happened for the life of me.

I hear a knock on my door and I stand up to answer it. I'm still in my work clothes. There's a boy wearing an olive green coloured jumpsuit holding a piece of paper and a shovel. When he extends his hand to give me the shovel and the paper, I see he has a mark on his neck like the one on my arm. "My name is Charlie, I'm here to give you a tour of the towers and surrounding grounds before you start your work," he said with a complete glum look on his face, not showing any emotion whatsoever. "I'm Clancy, why am I here? And where is here?" I ask, genuinely confused. A slight smirk spreads across Charlie's face as he says "Welcome to Dema, the real-world version of hell."