SnowPenguin

It was just meant to be another day of work, stacking shelves, cleaning floors, and standing until your feet dropped off. It was simply meant to be another day at work.

Until it wasn't.

Malik was now dead. He had died. He knew that he had. It would be the only reason to explain why he was in this place. Trapped in an old, dusty building, unable to smash through any of the windows, unseen by all the people who walked outside, Malik is now all alone and struggling to survive.

Especially at night time, when the walls start warping, the world twists, and people begin to walk out, from inside the walls and wallpaper.

The Dead Chairs Circle

The upstairs floor was almost entirely useless as the bottom floor. There were several doors that simply did not open all, while there were others that led to abandoned and wrecked rooms that were just as helpful as those downstairs.


There was also no way to reach the attic, or even any indication of an attic here as well. There was nothing here. Only musky, decrepit rooms that looked as if they were falling apart and there was nowhere for Malik to go.


He took the stairs to go back to the ground floor and took a look at the grandfather clock. Its hands showed the time to be only seven in the morning. 


Malik paused, looking at it. He felt as if he had been up there for much less time than two hours, on account of the few rooms for him to explore and root through for clues.


He turned away to go and find himself some furniture in the hallway that he could use to test the veracity of all the windows, opening all the doors that he could on the way.


He took down the other vase in the hallway and took the table that it was on, and made to try and throw it at every single window he found. 


He despaired as all the doors that he tried to pull open, his feet slipping on the carpet and his sweaty hands holding him back from using his full strength. None of them were unlocked.


Malik sighed when he reached the turning point in the corridor, and held himself walking around it, quietly shuffling as if he hadn't been throwing cabinets at windows this entire time, and swearing under his breath.


He peeked around slowly first, before shuffling around with the furniture, his eyes firmly on the hole in the wall.


Malik moved to throw the cupboard at the inner window, hopefully reaching the inner courtyard. 


It bounced off the glass, and back into the corridor, lying there uselessly.


Malik wasn't particularly willing to stick around and went back to the hall and the grandfather clock, to check the time again.


It displayed that he had been at his vandalism for an hour. Malik didn't believe what he was seeing but went to look outside regardless. He saw several cars beginning to leave their driveways and go off to work, and he waved his arms to get their attention.


It was as if he didn't exist. Not a single soul seemed to notice his presence. 


Malik continued uselessly onwards, before falling to the floor, ready to wait out the rest of his day.


(Our) Way Down