The Backrooms

'Get up.'

A sharp voice startled Keita out of a fitful doze.

Why he was sleeping, he couldn't recall.

He had been working… at his desk… in his office.

Why was he suddenly in a dim hallway that smelled of mold?

Also why was it so blurry?

Back to the voice now.

It was hard, square almost, so filled with passive loathing that you almost forgot you weren't actually hearing it through your ears.

'Get up,' it repeated.

Unsure what other options he had, Keita stood up unsteadily.

He instantly remembered that the reason he was unconscious was because he had hit his head, and swayed quickly into a wall, getting yet another concussion.

This was becoming an alarming pattern.

He rebounded, but was quickly caught by a single thick, blue arm that looked like a pool noodle.

'Now that I have your attention,' the stranger said, 'once you feel a bit better, there is a forced noclip point over there. Should take you back to Level 11. I would point but my other arm has given up the ghost, and you can't miss the warped camera lens effect wall.'

As Keita's vision swam back into painful focus, he stared at the beige wall that was indeed bulging like a fish-eye lens.

'Do try not to fall over again,' said the stranger, letting go.

Keita kept his footing, just barely, and turned round to see… what?

He weren't entirely sure who the stranger was.

They were a frowning husk, tall and broad.

Being undead was probably the least strange part of their appearance, however.

Most of their face had the skin peeled away, revealing bone-speckled gore.

The crimson burns crossed one eye, which looked like a ghostly pinprick in comparison to the large slit on the other side.

While their clothes were plain and practical, a somewhat terrifying metal contraption encircled their arms, connecting a set of prosthetic hands to what looked like a binder on their chest with twisting rubber tubes.

To his credit, Keita didn't run or scream or anything dramatic like that.

He almost found them… strangely attractive?

He wondered how to begin.

'Who are you?' he asked simply.

'It doesn't matter,' the husk replied, 'You have to go now. You probably ought to take some time off work for that concussion, a bruised brain is bad for output.'

'What if I don't want to go?' said Keita quickly, almost accusatory in tone.

The stranger sighed.

The psychic rattle echoed around Keita's head, fading away slowly.

'Fine.'

The blue stranger turned, and walked away in a long stride.

Keita had to jog to keep up.

'But… huff… I still don't… huff… know your name!' said Keita, in between hyperventilation.

The husk stopped abruptly, and Keita cannoned into their back, knocking them both to the floor.

'I'm… ach… The Catalyst,' said the stranger, struggling to their feet 'Anti-Unbound revolutionary. You may have heard of me. Or maybe you haven't, how should I know. What about you?'

'I'm Keita,' replied Keita cheerfully.

'That's nice.'

They sat there on the floor for a moment.

'So, Keita?'

'Yes?'

'Can you help me up, please?'

They both had been walking for quite a while.

But that was only time's problem, since neither of them seemed to have noticed.

For the Catalyst, who was used to traversing the miles and miles of bugger all between populated levels, days worth of travel was nothing, and in comparison this was merely a footnote.

For Keita, it only seemed like only about five minutes had passed since he fell on top of his newly-found blue companion.

Chatting with someone really does make time fly.

Or rather, asking someone every single question you can think of makes time fly, since that was what Keita was doing.

The Catalyst was following along without any complaints, completely avoiding every question thrown, with the non-commitalness of the average politician.

'You're not really saying much here,' Keita said.

'And you're saying too much,' replied the Catalyst.

Keita almost received yet another concussion when he accidentally tripped on his own shoes.

Thankfully, the Catalyst's reflexes were fast enough to catch him in his arms, sparing his head from spinning like a rat on acid.

'Do be more careful, please,' the Catalyst said calmly.

A blush formed on Keita's face.

'Sorry,' he said sheepishly.

Keita slowly got off their arms and regained his balance.

He then immediately continued playing 50 Questions with his stoic blue acquaintance.

Keita was getting more and more comfortable with them for each half-answer he received.

At one point, they encountered an area littered with furniture.

There were closets, ottomans, sofas, and so on.

Keita spotted a double bed amongst it all and tugged on the Catalyst's sleeve to show them.

'Let's rest there.'

The Catalyst stared at him.

'Why?'

'Because I want to,' Keita answered simply.

The Catalyst thought for a moment.

They wanted to suggest they keep going and stay alert, but they had also been walking for a while, so they figured Keita needed a rest.

'Alright, sure.'

Keita smiled and dragged them over to the bed.

It was quite a comfortable bed, the Catalyst admitted to themself.

From there, Keita continued asking…

And asking…

And rambling occasionally…

And showed no signs of exhaustion, which prompted the Catalyst to ask a question, for a change.

'I thought you were tired?'

Keita stayed silent for a couple of seconds, then chuckled.

'I said I wanted to rest. I never said I was tired,' Keita said in a cheeky tone, with an equally cheeky expression.

The Catalyst stared at him in silence.

He made a valid point, they supposed.

'Alright then.'

However, when Keita finally ran out of questions to ask, he did fall asleep.

Even though the bed was accompanied with pillows for him to rest his head on, he settled on the Catalyst's lap.

Keita's blue companion chose not to move or wake him up since they thought that would have been rude.

So, there they were, looking out for potential danger whilst sitting as still as possible as their new acquaintance was sleeping peacefully on their lap.

Keita woke up after his rest, yawning into his palm and opening his eyes slowly, accompanied with a few blinks.

'Hello again.'

He heard that voice again, the very same voice that woke him up from his unconscious state when he was on the floor.

There was something different in the voice however.

Before, it was harsh, albeit passively.

But the voice he was hearing while lying on the bed was instead in a tone that was softer and harder to discern.

Keita was met with his husk companion looking down at him, and he smiled.

'I thought you'd leave me,' Keita said in a groggy voice.

He got up off of the Catalyst's lap and stretched.

'That would've been cruel, wouldn't you say?' the husk flatly said.

Keita chuckled.

'I suppose so.'

'You suppose so?'

Keita simply ignored the Catalyst's question, or perhaps did not hear it.

Regardless, he invited his husk friend to continue exploring the mold-smelling, plain, hallways.

It reminded Keita of some of the articles he wrote when he was first starting out in his job, boring with barely any taste.

Just as Keita was about to take two steps away from the bed, the Catalyst grabbed his arm.

'Wait.'

Keita flinched as he felt the metal grip onto his limb, along with hearing his blue friend speak in a concerning tone.

'What…?'

The husk kept silent, for three seconds.

Keita was always surprisingly observant when he was uneasy.

'Electromagnets,' the Catalyst stated.

Now he was confused.

'What do you mean?'

'I'm sensing neural activity from somewhere nearby,' they further explained.

Keita surprisingly did not manage to discover that earlier when he was asking them countless of questions.

'Do you know if it's dangerous?'

'Unsure. Only Partygoers, Husks, and certain humans can actually project their neurons automatically. Only the former will cause issues for us.'

That was reassuring.

Except it was not, it was the opposite of reassuring.

It was concerning.

It was enough to make Keita drag his blue friend into a closet that was wide enough to fit them both when they said the brainwaves were moving closer.

Keita could barely get a grip on himself with how tense he was.

Because of the unknown entity wandering around nearby? Of course not.

Because of how close he and the Catalyst was, of course.

In hindsight, while it was necessary, it was also very awkward.

Keita was very thankful for the darkness of the closet, for it was hiding his blushing face.

'I can hear it clearly now…' said the Catalyst.

'What do you think it is?' whispered Keita.

'Partygoer. No doubt. Nothing else could exude so much evil, except possibly me.'

'What should I do???' said Keita.

'You should stay silent, let me handle this thing.'

They waited.

Footsteps, heavy yet soft, padded across the carpet outside.

Closer it came, bringing terror with it.

It stopped.

The handle of the locker slowly turned, with a creak like an ancient coffin.

Keita could barely even let out a gasp before the husk acted with unexpected speed.

They slammed the door open, knocking the yellow beast back into a wall.

Keita closed his eyes.

It didn't help.

He could still hear it all, the tearing of flesh, the shattering of furniture, the buckling of metal.

Eventually, the cacophony subsided, replaced by a slow crackling.

Keita slowly slid open his eyes, scared of what he might see.

The sight made him want to barf, but he held it in.

There was yellow chunks everywhere.

Both pointy arms of the partygoer were lying on the ground like discarded fire hoses.

The partygoer itself was pinned by the head against the wall, with some kind of spear.

It's chest cavity seemed to be on fire.

'Wha… what did you do‽‽' said Keita in horror.

'Never seen a partygoer before, huh?' said the Catalyst, 'I cut off it's arms and head, and now I'm frying it's centipede.'

'What, like, to eat??'

'Yeah? Deep-fried phobic centipede is nice. At least I think it was nice back when I had taste.'

'Isn't that…' Keita almost seemed scared to say it, 'Cannibalism?'

'Probably. I'm no an expert on these funny fellows.'

'But that's horrible!' exclaimed Keita.

'Easy for you to say.'

'And just what is that supposed to mean?'

'You live in the city. You have massive supplies of food an' water an' ice cream within walking distance of the capital. Out here, you eat what you can, or you dinnae eat at all. Either you eat entities that might philosophically be cannibalistic, or you eat your aen leg. An' eating your leg is a bad idea because then you can only walk — or should A say hop — half as fast.'

Keita blinked.

'How are you… how do you have an accent??'

'Oh. Sorry. The less I think about talking the more I become Scottish.'

Keita stared for a while.

'So do you want some fried partyfolk or not?' asked the Catalyst slowly.

'Um… I guess I'll try it?'

'I don't carry seasoning on me though, it might be a little bland.'

'Nothing is bland with good company,' said Keita in a rather strange tone.

The Catalyst ignored it.

'Good. It'll be ready in a couple of hours. Slow cooking, you know.'

They stared at the smouldering corpse for a while.

'Are you sure its dead?' asked Keita conspiratorially.

'It doesn't cook properly if it's dead.'

'You mean its still alive? Like lobster?'

'If lobsters were evil, yes. Okay, more evil.'

They stared some more.

'Shouldn't we still be able to hear it then?'

'I stuck a dagger in its telepathic centres.'

Silence fell like a plague.

They waited.

With nothing else to do, Keita resumed his conveyor belt of frivolous questions.

The Catalyst sighed inwardly.

'It's not exactly… appetising, is it,' said Keita, glaring at his half of the deep-fried centipede.

'We're not exactly in a restaurant here,' said the Catalyst, 'food is food no matter how it looks.'

They picked up their half — which was of course the more gristly front half, leaving the better bit to Keita — and flicked it into the air.

Eating was hard for the Catalyst.

While most husks would hold food in one hand, and put it into the mouth on their other arm, they had no such luxury.

As the fried insect reached its peak, they clicked the catch his prosthetic hand against a clip on his waist, letting it swing open, revealing the toothy mouth underneath.

The meal vanished between the pointy teeth in their arm, with practiced care.

Keita stared, seemingly more intrigued than disgusted.

He took a bite of the strange meat.

It wasn't… that bad?

He said as much to the Catalyst, who merely said that they'd told him so.

Something seemed… different suddenly.

Keita looked around slowly, fearing what they might see.

A door.

Just a door, wooden, with one of those nice coat hangers on the back.

It definitely wasn't there before.

'Hey, was that door there before?' he asked his companion, knowing the answer.

'I doubt it,' said the Catalyst, approaching warily.

He prodded at the door with his spear.

It stayed resolutely wooden.

It made no attempt to move.

With no other options, the Catalyst turned the handle.

The door swung open.

Beyond the threshold was a city street, brightly lit by the sun at midday.

Keita came up behind the Catalyst and stared out through the doorframe.

'Looks like Level 11 to me…' he said uncertainly.

'Not many other places look like that,' said the Catalyst, 'I should know.'

'Well, uh, since we're already here,' said Keita, blushing, 'Would you like to come back to my place?'

'I do have work to do,' said the Catalyst flatly.

Keita stopped.

After all this, they still weren't getting what he was trying to say.

Keita dragged the Catalyst back through the door into the unknown level, and pinned him against the wall.

'Damnit, I am flirting with you!' he exclaimed, 'How have you not noticed‽'

The Catalyst pushed him off promptly.

'I know!' they replied.

'Then why didn't you-'

'I just can't.'

Suddenly, there was an air of sorrow that lingered between the two gentlemen.

Maybe it was just a draft, but it shut Keita up instantly, making him rethink everything.

'What do you mean?' he asked calmly.

'Sit down, and I'll tell you.'

Keita sat on the ground next to where the Catalyst had fell.

'I don't have an easy life,' began the Catalyst, 'I have to fight a whole government alone, campaign across multiple levels, all while being hunted down by multiple groups of interest. It's not good for my social life. Everyone I meet is scared of me because of what I look like. It's dangerous to be around me, I've learned that much. It's either stay by myself, or leave a trail of corpses who couldn't keep up, everywhere I go.'

'But I love you,' said Keita, 'Doesn't that mean anything?'

'You wouldn't be the first. Even when I was alive, my lovers would die because of me. I can't do that to anyone else. That's why I was ignoring you, because I love you too much to see you become like them.'

Keita was weeping.

He hugged the Catalyst, squeezing his blue form tightly, his tears washing away the blood that seemed permanently adhered to their clothes.

'I don't want you to be alone,' he said, 'God, I don't even know your proper name and yet I love you so much.'

'I don't think I have a name anymore,' said the Catalyst, darkly, 'The name I was given is wrong, and the one I picked for myself is only used by myself.'

'What is it, then? I'll use it.'

'Reggie Lawson,' they replied flatly, 'I know, I know, I could've chose a more interesting name, but I don't want to draw attention to myself.'

'Nono, it's a nice name,' said Keita quickly, 'I like it.'

They hugged in silence for a while.

'I wish I still had lips,' said Reggie wistfully.

'Good thing I still do,' said Keita, gently kissing Reggie where his mouth would be if he was still human.

He seemed displeased by the flavour.

'You taste like a handbag.'

'Sorry.'

Silence.

'So… what do we do now?' said Reggie.

'What do you mean?'

'Do we exchange contact information or something? I haven't been in the dating scene for 3 years, I don't know what the etiquette is anymore.'

'Oh yeah, sure,' said Keita, bringing out his phone, 'What's your number?'

'I don't use telephones, they don't work properly.'

'Oh, um… email?'

'Certainly.'

Level 11 bored the Catalyst.

There were zero stakes living there.

Apart from the entity trafficking, there was next to no risk from hostile entities.

Most exits and entrances were marked, making it easy to avoid going anywhere else.

Supply chains of almost everything were here, making almost nothing scarce.

It was the most boring place this side of the veil.

They had to come there sometimes, of course, Thebes was always a good target, but they never liked to stay.

They tried to remember how Keita had talked them into coming here.

Even Level 1 was more fun than this place.

'Almost there,' said Keita brightly, turning to where the Catalyst was stalking along behind him.

'That's good, dearest.'

The couple strolled up to the apartment building, and made their slow way up the stairs.

'I've been thinking,' Reggie said darkly, 'What do you actually do? You've never mentioned a career.'

'I work for the G.P.D.,' answered Keita.

'Great, an article-cruncher. You do know they hate me, right?'

'Why‽' asked Keita, like it was the most surprising thing in the world.

'When I have issues with their articles, I talk to their authors directly, instead of going through their bureaucracy first.'

'Oh. That blacklist.'

They reached a door like a dozen others.

'Here we are,' said Keita.

He fumbled in his inadequate pockets for the key.

'That's good,' said Reggie, 'Because I have to go now, dear. Sorry. See you soon.'

'I thought you were going to-' said Keita, then stopped.

Their blue partner was nowhere to be found.

They had vanished without even a draft.