The Backrooms

Anne Dunne - The Dream

Note: Prophetic dreams and premonitions often reveal hidden information. As humanity in the Backrooms continues to lose this so-called "Fun War" with the Partygoers, no stone (psychic or otherwise) is left unturned.

Level 1 - A Message

Only throwing up sounded like throwing up—or smelled like it.

The sign on the door read

Looking like a high school cheerleader clad in a black turtleneck catsuit and micro skirt, Amy Cochrane of M.E.G. Team "Epiphany," a.k.a. "the eternal eighteen-year-old," tightened that blonde ponytail, freshened the cherry lipstick, and put on her game face. Behind this heavy steel door sat the last hope of humanity in the Backrooms. She pulled hard on the handle with both hands and stepped inside.

The M.E.G. nerve center stretched long and narrow, with sinks and mirrors, urinals, and bathroom stalls hugging the left wall. An acne-ridden operative stood at the closest urinal and barked, "Hey kid! You lost?" He shifted position out of modesty and fumbled with his pants. "Turn around," he shouted, his voice betraying both embarrassment and frustration.

Cooler heads prevailed and rushed over to whisper something in the newbie's ear. It defused the situation.

"I wasn't going to hurt the poor thing," Amy admitted with her signature innocence, toying with the twin katanas sheathed on her hips, then flipped the script, "Team Epiphany reporting. You requested our presence, sir?"

The supervisor on duty sighed and wiped his mouth. Each one of the four computer stations here was strategically placed within two steps of a toilet. Computer 1 handled the live broadcast from FUN TV aboard the SS Fun. Computer 2 recorded and edited the TV broadcast for intelligence purposes. The last two computers, depending on the reliability of the BackNET, dealt with M.E.G. emails and communication about the Fun War with the Partygoers.

It was difficult to run very far when you had to toss your cookies. It was harder still to not vomit while watching FUN TV. The Partygoers recorded and shared every horrific and despicable act, all in the name of documenting their rise to power in the Backrooms.

"Sir?" Amy repeated. "You asked to see me?"

Tears began to roll down the supervisor's cheeks. He pulled her closer and the other operatives gave the pair some personal space.

"Miss Cochrane," he began, his voice the barest of whispers. "We have been losing this conflict from its very beginning. At best, it takes two or three of our fighters to bring down a Partygoer. With each battle, they easily transform us into them. Their base, Level 26 or the SS Fun, is constantly on the move. When Anne Dunne had her vision of that turning point, we had hope…"

He led Amy to another computer and summoned a screenshot.

FUN TV screenshot
displaying message.
M.E.G. Archives

"I read the file on Anne Dunne's dream," he stated. "FUN TV began flashing this message today. What does it mean? Why would Partygoers celebrate their defeat?"

He tapped the toilet flush lever, and rusty water swirled the smelly mess away. Even the sinks here dispensed the same "tea" in varying concentrations, sometimes clearer than other times, but never suitable for drinking.

"Have hope," she reassured him. "Don't despair. Anne is meeting Lady Blanche as we speak. Doc Rhinehart is up to something on Level Eleven. I trust those two with my life. As for me, I will be taking the Pilgrims Path to our rendezvous at Dinosaur Alley."

"Amy," he said, "I'm worried about Anne. She seems lost. She's darker, troubled, and uncertain."

"It's this damned war," Amy offered. "It's not even a real war. Partygoers attack whenever and wherever they want. Doc Rhinehart says they can probably see no-clip portals and destinations as easily as we see doors and hallways."

"The idea that Anne lost her way is affecting everyone."

Heads nodded and hung low.

Level 11 - Attack

Doctor John Rhinehart, PhD, stood at the second-floor window of the New Worlds School for Exceptional Students on Level 11, sharp eyes watching the boisterous playground activity, teeth grinding behind his broken smile.

Déjà vu, all over again.

A little Faceling girl triumphantly caught a pink soccer ball and danced in celebration. This act signaled the beginning of an event that the middle-aged scientist had accidentally witnessed during his recent temporal travels. Rhinehart broke into a run even before those wild screams reached his ears, fingers digging deep and tearing into the false bottom of the canvas backpack.

It was a time for war.

Tragedy ruled. Examples were made. The enemy corralled and rustled young Facelings like cattle.

Makarov 9mm
issued to
Nikolai Ilyushin
in 1968.

Rhinehart's right hand claimed his Soviet-made Makarov 9mm pistol as his feet hit the playground. Dropping the backpack, he knew that the eight vintage cartridges in the clip would never defeat this horde of attacking Partygoers. He wasn't here to plink Partygoers or rescue Facelings.

The KGB scientist was here to rob Partygoer Zero of his most precious commodity: fingers. Those digits belonged to the four human collaborators securing juvenile Facelings to a long section of rope with loop handles at evenly spaced intervals. Faceling students accepted the "walking rope" during fire drills and emergencies.

A defensive wall of Partygoers held back any potential interlopers while the human collaborators secured the Facelings. Those who challenged the operation were punished. A trio of Unbound Explorers Coalition soldiers, equipped with HellFire Spears², appeared out of nowhere and moved in to protect those wanderers in danger.

Rhinehart brandished the handgun and yelled, "Stay clear of my line of fire!" The Bakelite grip jumped three times to the tempo of Makarov's barks, and two collaborators fell and flopped on the playground like freshly caught fish on a pier. "Don't kill them! Leave them wounded!"

He emptied the clip, and the last pair of collaborators convulsed on the asphalt before the Partygoers even realized what was happening. The U.E.C. regulars drove the startled enemy back while adult humans, Facelings, and Frowning Husks rushed in to rescue the little ones.

M.E.G. surveillance had previously confirmed the presence of four human collaborators on Level 26. The doctor kept those abdominal gunshots as seriously life-threatening as possible. The enemy was forced to retreat with their human pets. So much for Partygoer domination.

Backstory: While Americans squandered more than twenty-five billion peasant dollars for less than one day on the moon, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics conducted "Operation Wonderland" in secret. This project sent Nikolai Ilyushin, now known as Doctor John Rhinehart, PhD, to the Backrooms in July of 1969.

Level 906 - Interlude

Jagged breath escaped numb lips with no air behind it, and déjà vu hobbled each footstep. Was this what it felt like to climb the gallows? The psychic finally found her courage to visit Level 906.

"The Shining Promise returns in preparation for her War of a Thousand Years. Anne Dunne, dear, welcome back to the Cygnus Archive." Lady Blanche curtsied. She looked exactly as everybody described her: pale with long blonde hair and light blue eyes.

The curtsy left Anne surprised and confused. She felt unworthy.

"This is my first time here and our first meeting," Anne said, feeling the words turn to dust in her mouth. Her statement felt like both truth and a lie. Only her face and right arm escaped the folds of her white cloak. How she managed to keep this symbol of purity clean in the Backrooms was a miracle in itself.

"Memory is a fragile thing when you cross timelines." Blanche tilted her head like an inquisitive puppy and smiled.

"Allow me this indiscretion, dear." Blanche gently took Anne's right arm, the one stained deep purple from elbow to fingertips, and kissed that delicate hand. "I miss you so much, my dear friend," she cooed, as if those fingers belonged to a separate entity. "And you," Blanche lightly admonished her visitor, "do you not miss your fiery curls and beautiful eyes, sweet child?"

"My reward following the Great Disaster of Level 710," Anne shrugged, content with hair that flowed in strands of white and sparkling silver and eyes like fried marbles..

"Perhaps I shall commit two indiscretions," Blanche added, now taking both hands into hers. "This is not your true form, my dear. You are merely stuck. Look at yourself now in the mirror there."

Emerald eyes and ginger tresses found their way home. Anne was back.

"Many beautiful creatures flash a display to warn when they become dangerous. That was your warning coloring," Blanche offered. "It takes energy to create it. How you managed to maintain it for so long is a testament to your endurance."

"I am me again!" Anne sang, suddenly light on her feet.

Anne Dunne
"Shining Promise"
of the multiverse.
M.E.G. Archives

"You were always you," Blanche giggled. "What good is time and space without tea and cake?"

A silver tray of goodies appeared.

"Dearest," Blanche observed, "your mind is so very constipated. Drink your tea, please."

Anne sipped at the night sky in her dainty teacup. The beverage was black as ink, complete with twinkling stars and dancing clouds. She flinched as shivers stiffened her spine.

"The dread that you feel arises from the clash between precognition and feelings of déjà vu. This conflict is your subconscious tormented by lost timelines and your fear of the future."

"A dream haunts me," Anne confessed. "Something is coming!"

"And with that," Lady Blanche sighed, "we come to the point of no return."

Anne apologized.

"Beings capable of temporal travel," Lady Blanche began, "or who can step outside of world lines to see the past, present, and future, are ethically forbidden from divulging future events to creatures trapped by time. These morals do not bind your enemies." A magazine from Earth materialized, and Blanche handed it over. "It is no coincidence that our Level 26 was created with metal scrapped from the warship."

UFO magazine
featuring the
Philadelphia Experiment.
M.E.G. Archives

Anne chuckled. "I have this issue. Otto von Mobile was the mastermind behind Project Rainbow, a 1943 experiment by the Americans to render their warships invisible to enemy radar and the magnetic detonators of torpedoes and naval mines. Their test ship, the DE-173, not only became truly invisible but also teleported haphazardly, with disastrous effects on the crew. This military secret became a conspiracy theory known as the Philadelphia Experiment." She easily drifted back into her paranormal consultant persona.

"Dying of cancer, the scientist made a series of deathbed confessions to his son, who transformed his father's testimony into a manuscript that the peer-reviewed science journals disregarded. UFO ETC finally published the article, embellished with creative liberties. Otto Jr. angrily burned their royalty check and sent them a copy of the issue with corrections, to no avail."

Blanche told her, "This is his corrected copy."

Anne's eyebrows jumped a bit. "I never read the article because Otto hated it so much. We co-wrote my last book, A Unified Field Theory of Metaphysics.

"Would you autograph my copy of your book?" Blanche asked. She snapped her fingers and produced the book and a pen. "And after that, could you hurry along to Dinosaur Alley? Myrtle is waiting."

Level 246 - Revelation

The M.E.G. Team “Epiphany” no-clipped to the Circle of Stones on Level 246, and Rhinehart headed straight for the dinosaur observation tower. Amy passed him in a sprint. Anne followed, but only her mind was racing.

“A turning point comes, ushering in the end of Partygoer domination over humans in the Backrooms.” During the dream, she was alone in a sea of murder monsters. Where did they go?

A black cat crossed her path.

It was a kitten. Anne scooped it up and told her companions that she would meet them in the Village of Twelve. Amy made a pouty face and looked torn between the kitty and the dinosaurs. Soft purring stole the moment.

For absolutely no reason, Anne recalled a miserable night in Cleveland, Ohio. Her brief affair with an all-you-can-eat buffet ended with an all-night commitment in the bathroom. Doubts and negativity were on the menu here today. Her mind threatened to explode.

The kitten licked her hand, and that rough tongue brought her back to reality. Many of the mysterious disappearances from Earth are instances of people and things ending up in Level 246. Some are quite famous. This place is the sinkhole of the multiverse.

The journey ended in Harbinger Heights, more than two thousand feet above the Stygian Sea, a temporal shadow of the Earth as it will be in the days to come.

Mount Olympus was but an image of a wooden door hanging in the air. The two-dimensional projection was thinner than a paper cut when viewed from the side and appeared to be nothing at all when viewed from behind. The door opened, and a lithe goddess emerged, pale and flawless. Her silver mini dress, knee-high boots, and futuristic wraparound shades commanded respect. Alayna, an emissary from the Council of Trust, hugged Amy tightly.

"I missed you so much," Amy said. No wonder she was in love. "This is Anne Dunne."

The evolved Faceling from the distant future smiled politely and said, "Let us go inside."

Mount Olympus lived up to its reputation. Halls stretched in all directions, flanked by rooms humming with activity. Gnomes, aliens, Bigfoot, and other mythical creatures all hustled with purpose and resolve. There were no humans in sight.

"I am off to visit you-know-who," Rhinehart said, excusing himself. He needed to discuss important matters with a certain pair of time traveling "sisters from another mister."

J-El (alien) and Peep are
sisters from another mister.
Note: Both male and female
gnomes have long beards.
Official portrait
M.E.G. Archives

Amy blushed. "Should we show Anne around?"

There was an awkward silence before the psychic asked, "Is there anywhere that I can meditate?"

"What you must do," their hostess reflected, "is read what Blanche gave you. Our chapel is the second door on the right." Indifferent and aloof, she pointed down one hallway.

Amy looked puzzled by the rudeness.

Anne gratefully accepted the advice and made her way to the rustic chapel. It was tiny. Perhaps a dozen people could fit if two waited outside. She sat down and opened the magazine.

“My Father’s Philadelphia Experiment” totaled six pages (ppg 17-20 and 22-23) and was profusely illustrated with drawings (the in-house artist had the same last name as the editor). Marginal handwritten comments ran both vertically and horizontally in every open space, while text found itself crossed out or circled. Otto Junior spared no effort in expressing displeasure over the editorial direction.

One annotation snagged Anne's attention and refused to let go.

The "Once in the Backrooms, forever in the Backrooms" mantra blinded her to this possibility.

A mental laxative opened her skull to the multiverse. She jumped to her feet and fell, shaking and jerking like a marionette with tangled strings. She could see everything, everywhere, all at once. What was in Blanche's tea?

The turning point was a ship jam-packed with Partygoers invading Earth.

Warning colors returned to full splendor. Ginger tresses froze in silver and white waves. Emerald eyes again transformed into ice illuminated by fire. She floated above the floor on ripples of psychic energy. A shake of her head holstered the display and dissipated the levitation. She opened her eyes to a crowded audience. Rhinehart and Amy stood there, open-mouthed. Alayna grinned, while gray aliens and gnomes erupted in joyous applause. A spider the size of a small dog stepped forward and bowed.

Myrtle
Official portrait
M.E.G. Archives

"I ask that white light fill and surround us, cleansing our minds, bodies, and spirits. Protect us from all negativity, lower vibrational energy, or entities. I ask this, according to Divine Will, for the highest and greatest good. And so, it is." Anne called forth divine light.

Hope filled the little chapel, and the gnomes stepped forward with paper and pencils at the ready. Paranormal researchers called this process "automatic writing" or "psychography," where a person produces words and drawings without conscious thought or control. Anne's right hand flew across the paper, writing almost too fast for the eye to follow. Tiny hands kept the supply of sharpened pencils coming. Anne's lips uttered words unspoken in this universe, with a gift called "speaking in tongues."

A single tear caressed the Faceling's cheek. She squeezed Amy's fingers and whispered, "The Shining Promise returns in preparation for her War of a Thousand Years."

Anne gave Alayna a wink.

"We have barely three days to prepare," Anne said, shuffling and stacking the battle plan. "Our fight lies before us, but I already saw the victory in my mind."

"Just like old times," Amy added.

Level 26 - Turning Point

A tight spiral of those thirteen warriors, hands linked in a chain of unity, collectively held their breath when Anne Dunne reached out for the party poster on the wall.

“Please forgive me!” she cried and touched the poster. The assault team no-clipped, like a string of firecrackers going off. They teleported to deck six of the Adventure, at the stern, and lined up alongside the pool. Partygoers stood here and there, all appeared to be "switched off."

Partygoer by
Myra Oberlyn.
Note head and tail
of Phobic Centipede.
M.E.G. Archives

The Deep Waters of Level 422 surrounded this enemy vessel. Powered by three main sails, the M.E.G. Outpost Hale Kapu, consisting of combined wooden rafts, approached on an interception course.

"Perfect timing!" the psychic told her team. "We have only minutes. Remember your briefings."

The team inched toward the bow of the ship and, still just inside the remnants of the grill and restaurant, used the twin elevators to drop down one deck.

Partygoers here blocked the corridor forward to the staterooms and their first target.

"Come here, my darlings."

A wave of telepathic siren song enraptured the humans. Three M.E.G. warriors dropped their weapons. Men trembled and swayed. Neither age nor gender offered defense. Some heard their mothers. Lost loves beckoned others.

Anne Dunne resisted the pull and broke the spell with a magical gesture, crushing the air with her fist.

One slightly shorter Partygoer stepped forward. This "woman" was the source of the feminine telepathic voice. Not merely yellow, she looked like she was cast from living gold. Intuition identified this creature as the former Darla Kebab, the first human to be transformed by Partygoer Zero.

"No harm will come to you, Anne. You and the doctor are needed on the sun deck." Darla took one step back and added, "But first, let's watch your comrades die." Yellow, undead assassins came to life on cue and marched forward.

"Now, my friend. We need you now!" Anne shouted. One of the Partygoers blurred and morphed into a Man in Black or Aelok. Darla Kebab was ripped to pieces in three lightning moves. The MiB took point down the narrow corridor toward the bow of the ship, dismembering and "unanimating" enemies, laughing off bites from their eel-like appendages. Aeloks were immune to Partygoers. The last suite on the left, before reaching the bridge, held the golden Party Host, an enormous creature permanently affixed to the ceiling.

The monster looked like a golden fried egg with an eye for a yolk surrounded by jagged teeth, and lasted only seconds under the assault from the shapeshifting Man in Black.

"I made a deal with the Mur of Level 234. If this Aelok helps us, it will be released from prison," Anne explained her secret to a confused Doctor Rhinehart.

"Amy, your teams will torch the staterooms closest to the elevators on decks three and four," The psychic commanded. Ten soldiers slipped off their backpacks; each held a one-gallon container of fuel alcohol distilled from grain on Level 10. "Then, you can free the Facelings on deck two and escape on the Hale Kapu. Don't worry about John and me. We will be fine."

Everything went down exactly as Anne Dunne had foreseen it. Nearly all of the Partygoers were in a state of hibernation. The Man in Black dispatched remaining threats efficiently. The hardest part was freeing the Facelings, getting them off the Adventure and onto the Hale Kapu rafts.

Amy Cochrane was known as the "First In, Last Out Girl" among her Major Explorer Group peers. She was always the first one to enter a dangerous situation and the last to leave. Fearless and dedicated to the cause, she ensured the safety and well-being of Team Epiphany.

One by one and two by two, fifty rescued Facelings were transferred over to the rafts. The chaos and pandemonium ended with the last of the Facelings and her soldiers safely aboard Hale Kapu. Movement behind an overturned table in the corner interrupted her jump to the rafts. The trembling young Faceling seemed torn between leaving his hiding spot or being left behind

She sheathed her katanas and called to the child. It ran into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. She gently hoisted the heavy little bundle over the railing and called to the group on the rafts for assistance. Even when those snake arms sunk their teeth into her back, Amy did not let go. She did shake and scream. Comrades finally grabbed the child. Her hands turned dark purple, and her fingers fell off—replaced by a mouth with hook teeth!

The Man in Black caught her as she fell backwards and symbolically carried Amy like a bridegroom carries his bride. Yellow lobster skin covered her like a sack. He took her across the threshold of life and death and into the intense flames devouring the corridor.

Amy's death was a fixed point in time. Alayna knew this and wept.

John and Anne climbed the stairs to the sun deck to confront Partygoer Zero. The entity waited beside a shimmering doorway. This fight had only just begun, but Anne had seen the end of the battle in her mind.

"You underestimate me! We have business through the portal just as soon as we transform Doctor Rhinehart into my second-in-command. The M.E.G. witch is free to leave now by touching that poster on the wall. We are forbidden to harm her. Timelines."

Autocorrect appeared, wearing his “Happy Times Aquarium” work uniform and sporting a "Deacon" nametag. Duncan whirled into the attack and froze. The phenomenon held tight until the Partygoer king separated into his human origin, the Phobic Centipede, and marine life.

"What have you done?" Deacon looked at his human hands and arms in horror, then screamed and ran through the portal, with the Phobic Centipede in hot pursuit.

Green fog rolled in, mixing with the smoke from fires aboard ship.

"This is good-bye, John. Touch that poster to escape. I will be taking the portal." She gave the scientist a peck on the cheek.

"Good-bye, Anne," he told her. "Hope springs eternal."

Then, they were gone. The Adventure vanished.

Indeed, hope springs eternal, even in the Backrooms.

Washington, D.C. - Epilogue

MR. REEMAN #7: "The Adventure situation is handled. Liminal Echo does not exist on Earth, so the "infinite" portions of the vessel never made it to this planet.

MR. REEMAN #4: "Government officials ridiculed supernatural claims, explaining that the ship simply wasn't noticed before the explosion and fire in Philadelphia harbor. It never magically appeared. No conclusions were drawn about where the Adventure has been these last fifteen years."

MR. REEMAN #88: A TikTok influencer named Jeffrey Jenko has altered the digital landscape with a video clearly showing the Adventure materializing in plain sight.

MR. REEMAN #2: Accidents happen. Celebrities have addictions. Hoaxes exist.

MR. REEMAN #7: It will be so.

MR. REEMAN #4: The World Cryptoscience Organization has recovered several animated specimens from the Adventure. They are sharing these assets with the Edgewood Arsenal in Maryland.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

SECRET MULTIVERSE EXPLORATION REVEALED

By: World Cryptoscience Organization

Ability Turns Dreams Into Reality.

NEW YORK, New York — M

Scientists at the World Cryptoscience Organization have successfully landed manned vehicles on the surface of parallel worlds. Their spindle-shaped craft, called the TORUS, never actually leaves its "launchpad," but instantly arrives at its destination via "dimensional bilocation" and occupies both locations simultaneously. Using Albert Einstein's "spooky action at a distance," our dimensional voyagers can exit the craft and explore, gather samples, and even converse with any natives of that reality. WCO scientists, not giving any details, confided that the TORUS has made dozens of round trips into the multiverse without incident.

"Primitive man saw the ocean and dreamed of distant shores," said Jason Stone, spokesman for the global cabal. "Decades ago, man looked at the stars and imagined walking on the moon. Today, with interstellar travel out of reach, learned men looked for other worlds to explore. The TORUS is today's vision of the Mercury space program and mankind's baby steps into space."

A short film showed the TORUS in action. Subjected to rotating magnetic and gravitational fields, the capsule went out of focus before its superimposed twin dropped away and out of sight. When pressed about the technology, Stone chuckled and called it no-clipping, making the video game reference to a cheat that allowed players to move through solid objects and explore areas that would otherwise be inaccessible.

At present, the TORUS must remain "energized" for the duration of the trip. Losing power at the terrestrial station would be like cutting the kite string, making retrieval impossible. Research is currently underway to create "chambers" capable of safely moving men and machines.

Stone envisions a world where, eventually, visiting the multiverse will be no different than hopping a transoceanic flight.

TORUS is a one-man
"spindle" capable of multiverse
travel created by WCO. It is
powered by external rotating
magnetic and gravity
fields and flown like a kite
connected by a quantum
tether to Earth. [13' H x 9' W]
Credit: World Cryptoscience
Organization