❝ 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜 '𝕟' 𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝, 𝕓𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕠! ❞
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Shane Madej is a demon. No, I'm not kidding. Though, why he decides to spend his time hunting ghosts and tormenting Ryan Bergara under the guise of a BuzzFeed employee; I couldn't tell you. However, h...
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She was in a blank, blindingly white void that extended as far as the human eye could see—and possibly farther than that. To say that it was empty, though, would be incorrect. It was far from empty, though there was nothing really to do—no couch to sit on, no TV to watch, no computer to mindlessly browse memes on Reddit.
There were a bunch of doors though, most leading nowhere exciting. They represented the mind of the body, somewhat. It's the closest thing you'd probably get to a "mind palace" except without the palace and half as cool a concept.
She only recognized two doors out of the ten or so doors near her. The one closest to her—a tall white one covered from metaphorical head to metaphorical toe in those tiny star-and-heart-shaped stickers that you'd find at a dollar store—was hers. The one directly in front of her—a tall black one with a picture of an orange tabby taped on the frame and next to it was a penis drawn in chalk—was his.
Of course.
She could have turned around and gone back to her door like any sane person would probably do, but the curiosity of what he wanted to show her got the better of her. In the past, he'd shown her stuff he thought was cool, like a fire breathing unicorn or a hot dog riding a skateboard.
In the past, he did.
She wasn't exactly sure what to expect now that things were far different than were Before. Maybe, he was actually going to make it up to her—or maybe he would show her something so horrible and disgusting that she would want to go back to cushy, mushy Heaven.
As if.
Though, even if she did try to go through her door, she would have found it locked. He didn't trust her. No, not anymore.
She approached the door, hands tucked neatly in her jacket pockets. She leaned to the side peered around it, and she stood on the tips of her toes to, unsuccessfully, see over it.
Yep, it was a door for sure.
She ran a hand over the smooth wood. It was ice-cold and stung to touch it, like hundreds of tiny knives stabbing into her palm at once. It was—oh, fantastic! She got Penis Chalk on her hand. Taking her hand away from the door, she stared at the now smeared chalk on the door.
