The Children

15

Neo's p.o.v.

Monty corpse-fucking Oum, my head... That's the last time I down a bottle of fucking Everclear. Can't even open my eyes without a headache setting in. Ok..... Just nice and slow, Neo.

I open my eyes little by little, the back of my brain yelling at me to close them shut. My vision is blurred to hell, so I start blinking to clear it up a bit. Once my vision finally clears up, I'm greeted with a dark red ceiling with a light blue chandelier letting out a soft glow....... Did someone have their way with me, where the hell am I? The last thing I remember is hanging out at a bar, and then those two losers started bugging me for no reason. What the hell did they want?

Ugh, thinking hurt. Need to deal with this hangover. I carefully sit up in the very comfy bed and start looking around. Speaking of the bed, it's fucking king sized! Crimson colored sheets, darker crimson pillows. Is this silk? This shit's soft as an angel's ass that was cleaned with the best baby wipes made by God.

Wait, bad Neo. Stop thinking about the very comfortable bed and get back on track.

To my left, across the room, I see a window with black curtains drawn shut. Good. This is a no sunlight zone right now. Moving on. Directly in front of me is a dark wood door with the knob in the center instead of at the side. Weird. Along the right after that, not much else. A small dresser with a mirror on top.

I glance over to my right and see a night stand next to the bed. A plate lays on top with buttered toast and bacon. Along with a pitcher of water with a small glass beside it. I reach out my hand towards the glass... and immediately bump it out of my way as I grab the pitcher. I quickly pull the nectar of the gods up to my face and just start chugging that bitch. Small streams of water run down my face and onto my clothes in the process. But I really could not give a damn. This is gonna help with this shitty hangover.

I pull away the pitcher from my face, now half empty, and let out an orgasmic sigh of relief. The refreshing liquid doing its job of rehydrating my poor brain. I place the pitcher back and begrudgingly get out of the best damn bed I have ever woken up in. Spotting the mirror on the dresser, I grab the toast off the plate and walk over. Scarfing down the cooked bread in one go. As I get close to the mirror, I can already tell I look like shit.

Finally arriving, I stare down at the poor excuse of a woman in front of me. Blood shot eyes, from either lack of sleep or the alcohol, with bags under them. Skin is a little pale. Hair's a complete mess. Bed head would actually look better. A hat would be great right about now in fact..... Speaking of which.

I turn around and face the bed. Leaning on the nightstand is exactly what I wanted to find. My little swiss army umbrella thing, Roman's cane and hat hanging off of it. I collect my things, grab some more toast, and head for the door. Donning the hat, I open the door and peek out. Nomming on a little bit of toast in the process.

To my left, hallway with doors. To my right... more hallway with even more doors. Where the fuck am I!? Making up my mind, I take the left hall as I finish my toast. Besides my chewing, It's quiet as hell here...

After a little bit of walking, I come across a door that's actually different... And disturbing. The door looks like rotten wood as what looks like smoke seeps through the cracks. There looks to be a note carved into the door, but it's hard to read from here. I walk over to it and am immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of dread. As if I shouldn't even look at this door.

As I get closer, about ready to piss myself from the door's presence, I get a good look at the note on it.

"Abandon hope all ye who enter here. Seriously, touch anything and I will harvest your blood for tea. You are really taking a risk coming into MY basement without permission from me. Why are you still here? If you are reading this, you are a faggot."