Stanley had been sitting at their desk for quite some time.

You look at your screen. Unable to move or come to your senses. Just stared and...

You move.

What?

"What?" Stanley thought to themself. Have they woken up? Or are they still with a cloudy mind from the restart?

"Who are you?" You stand up and push your chair aside.

Stanley... was freaking out. What was happening?

"What kind of prank is this..?! Show yourself"

Stanley thought, that this was a prank. But to his surprise, it was no prank.

"What the hell?" You look at the yellow camera up in the ceiling. In a small corner.

Suddenly...

You turn around to face your open office door. No coworkers anywhere to be seen.

Stanley collapses.

You yelp in pain as you hit the disgusting carpet of your office. Papers being your only form of comfort, as your new pillow.

Stanley's head starts to cram with thoughts. Recollections that weren't quite his. Locations he had walked to. A voice he had been talking to.

"Make it stop..." You cover your head and curl up in a ball.

Throbbing pain fills every inch of Stanley's body. They are struggling.

"NOOO" You shout.

"What the hell is happening! Please stop! Where is everybody!? What the fuck!"

His head was quite hurting. But, I, I understand that pain, Stanley.

"What... what... what are you?" You look up at the camera in your room.

Stanley, I understand you. I am going to put you out of your misery. Because... I... care about you.

"What is happening..." You cry.

All of this is going to be over soon. Don't you worry now.

"You know something I don't... about... me. But... I can't remember."

Of course you can Stanley. Just try if you so badly want to remember all those places we went to together.
All those memories and pretty, pretty lights. Oh how memorable.

"N-NO, it hurts too much. My head is going to explode. This is torture."

May I suggest something Stanley?

"What the fuck? What the hell are you?"

You yelp in pain.

A room. A door.

"Stanley, please listen to what you're doing. Please Stanley, do not take this away from me. PLEASE STANLEY!"

You don't recognize this.

Perhaps you just don't want to remember. Have a choice of your own. How contrary of you Stanley!

"AGHH!" You cover your head.

"PLEASE HELP ME."

Hm...

The pain stops for a moment. You can hear your own breathing and feel your own fingertips.

"What have I been doing all this time...? Pushing buttons. I.. I have been on autopilot my whole life..."

That is precisely what I wanted to show you, Stanley.

"And who are you? Who am I talking with?"

But since it hurts you so much..Stanley, I think... I might just have to let go.

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait, what does that mean? What are you-?"

Suddenly you feel your heart sink. Something was holding a clock. You don't know where was the clock or the hand but something was holding a button on a clock.

Restart.

That word sank in your mind.

"'Restart"'?! What does it mean? Hey? HEY!-"

Everything goes black.

This is the story of a person named Stanley.

The papers that were just crumbled up on the ground were back on the gray office table.

Stanley worked for a company in a big building where they were Employee #427.

You yawn as you look at your reflection on the black monitor. As you fix your tie.

Employee #427's job was simple: they sat at their desk in Room 427 and they pushed buttons on a keyboard.

Orders came to them through a monitor on their desk telling them what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.

This is what Employee #427 did every day of every month of every year, and although others may have considered it soul-rending,

Stanley relished every moment that the orders came in, as though they had been made exactly for this job.

And Stanley was happy.

And then one day, something very peculiar happened.

Something that would forever change Stanley;

Something they would never quite forget.

"What's wrong with this computer?"
You pat on the monitor box and look at the cords to seem smart to yourself though you didn't know anything smart about computers.

They had been at their desk for nearly an hour when they had realized not one single order had arrived on the monitor for them to follow.

"Hm, strange"

No one had shown up to give them instructions, call a meeting, or even say 'hi'. Never in all their years at the company had this happened, this complete isolation.

You scratch your head. It was somehow cloudy and the world seemed far and detached from you. Like waking up from a dream and not understanding a single thing that is happening.

Something was very clearly wrong. Shocked, frozen solid, Stanley found themself unable to move for the longest time.

I'm not scared, that is not true. Why did I put that thought in my head.

You yawn again. There was no point in staying at this depressing desk. Somehow, in all of your years of working at here, you had never realized how disgusting the interior was.
You turn around in your chair and stand up.
You had been walking in and out of this office for a very long time, on different times of the day and night, but somehow, right now... It felt like you were in this office for the first time.

Not that you can't recognize the place, but instead, you see more details. You see, more of the place. Like almost being here all this time but with your eyes closed or your vision blurred. Now the fog had been lifted for some strange reason.

You scratch your head and try to get rid of the cloudiness and the usual endless dialoges you have with yourself in your mind.

Everything was unclear, but you had to get up from this office and this chair. It was getting out of hand. Even for you.

But as they came to their wits and regained their senses, they got up from their desk and stepped out of their office.

Your foot touches the yellowish cheap carpet on your office floor.

You look around and fidget with the buttons on your shirt's sleeve.

All of his co-workers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room, perhaps he had ...

What?

simply missed a memo.

I wasn't thinking that.

You walk across the carpet.

These aren't my thoughts.

Stanley decided to go to the meeting room.

No... I ... nevermind.

Stanley decided to go to the meeting room.

You walk across the carpet. All the seats were empty.

You smudge your forehead. The cloudiness is fading slowly.

Where is everybody. What kind of joke is this.

Every room you pass is empty. No soul to be seen. You sigh.

"The gag is over! Good joke guys!"

You try to guess who in your team would play a joke like that on you. To your surprise, you can't seem to be able to recall any of their names, or faces..

You walk across the empty hallway.

The windows were too bright to see outside clearly. The light just made your head hurt more.

You pass the windows and find yourself...

When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.

There is it again. That same voice.

"Hello?"

Stanley yelled "Hello" to the empty building. Not a soul to respond his silent heed.

"Oh damn you"

You walk to the door on your right.

That ought to teach him. Bossing me around.

Uh, no Stanley! Wrong! I clearly stated that Stanley goes to the door on his left.

"I don't think so."

Stanley, please, be reasonable. Do not be like... that. This is just nasty and unasked for!

"Well, StAnLeY dosen't care! He is going to the door on their right!"

Oh, I understand.

"You do?"

Of course I do Stanley. I doubt that there is a single soul on this planet earth that cares about you as much as I do.

"What, what do you mean?"

You walk through the hallway.

Yes, I am simply...

Silly.

"What? No Narrarator! That's not it. What are you saying?"

"Narrarator"... that's what you call me each time...

"Each time? What... what are you talking about??"

Nevermind that Stanley. Right! I referred to you as a "he" though I know that you prefer "they/them" more. How silly of me, isn't it?

You find yourself in another room.

"That's.. well..."

What is it Stanley? Did I get it wrong? Oh my apologies. I am not caught up with all of the... modern world and it's difficult pronouns and... styles and...

"No-no! That's" You lightly chuckle. Somehow you can feel that the tension has been also lifted on the other side of the line.

"I guess it's just that I feel like I have woken up for the first time in my life. I haven't even thought about that but I suppose it does fit me better. How.. how did you come up with this? Do I know you?"

You look around in the lounge. No people in sight.

"Do you know me?"

You ask.

The response was delayed.

Yet there was not a single person here either.

Feeling a wave of disbelief, Stanley decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there.

"Why didn't you answer me?"

The Narrarator clears his throat.

Stanley decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there.

"Oh god damn it."

You turn around and walk across the hallway to return back to the two doors but the broom closet catches your eyes.

Fuck you.

You open the door and get inside.

You could hear a slight sigh and office chair rusling, indicating that The Narrarator had laid back.

Stanley stepped into the broom closet, but there was nothing here, so they turned around and got back on track.

You smile to yourself.

There was nothing here. No choice to make, No path to follow, Just an empty broom closet. No reason to still be here.

You sit down on the floor and look up at the light. Satisfaction is all over your face. You reach to a cup on the shelf from the ground. It dosen't move. You try with both hands. So dosen't move the other objects on the shelf. Nevermind.

It was baffling that Stanley was still just sitting in the broom closet. They wasn't even doing anything, At least if there were something to interact with, he'd be justified in some way.

I am not doing your stupid story, that's what I'm doing!

As it is, thei're literally just standing there, doing sweet FA.

Yes.

====
Author's note. I fixed the text font that kept ruining the Narrarator and Stanley dialoges.

I also wanted to mark that I hate you Wattpad 🖕
====

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘕𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳. 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

You smile to yourself.

Are you... are you really still in the broom closet? Standing around doing nothing? Why?

Yes I am.
No other reasonjust to taunt you.

Please offer me some explanation here; I'm- I'm genuinely confused.

You giggle like a child that's succeeding at hiding from their parents.

You do realize there's no choice or anything in here right? If I said, "Stanley walked past the broom closet" at least you would have had a reason for exploring it to find out.

But it didn't even occur to me because literally this closet is of absolutely no significance to the story whatsoever. I never would've thought to mention it.

And isn't that the beauty of it?

Steping away from what's assigned to you just so you could have some fun.

You look up at the ceiling again.

Have some fun.

Be happy.

You smile and let your eyes close.

Isn't that what this is all about? In this world. Being... Happy..

Maybe to you, this is somehow it's own branching path. Maybe, when you go talk about this with your friends, you'll say:

"OH! DID U GET THE BROOM CLOSET ENDING? THE BROOM CLOSET ENDING WAS MY FAVRITE!1 XD" ... I hope your friends find this concerning.

And again, you couldn't help but to giggle. A man that had that much power over you but couldn't do anything once his subject hid in a broom closet.

You reach for a broom in the corner of the closet. It doesn't budge just like all the other objects.

Sad.

Stanley was fat and ugly and really, really stupid.

OY! HOW DARE YOU! I am not speaking with you but I can still curse you in my mind.

I saw that furried brow Stanley. He probably only got the job because of a family connection; that's how stupid he is.

God damn..

That, or with drug money.

I don't think I do drug-

Also, Stanley is addicted to drugs and hookers.

Nooo! I-I I am pretty sure that I am still a virgin!

Well, I've come to a very definite conclusion about what's going on right now.

Oh finally.

You're dead.

No- That's... That's definitely not what's going on here.

You wave your hand in the air to show that you are alive.

You got to this broom closet, explored it a bit, and were just about to leave because there's nothing here, when a physical malady of some sort shut down your central nervous system and you collapsed on the keyboard.

I-

Well, in a situation like this, the responsible thing is to alert someone nearby so as to ensure that your body is taken care of, before it begins to decompose.

You're talking to me as if I were in a video game.

I think you are the mental one here.

HELLO!! ANYONE WHO HAPPENS TO BE NEARBY!! THE PERSON AT THIS COMPUTER IS DEAD!!

God dammit.

HE OR SHE HAS FALLEN PREY TO ANY NUMBER OF YOUR COUNTLESS HUMAN PHYSIOLOGICAL VULNERABILITIES.

Oh god dammit.

IT'S INDICATIVE OF THE LONG-TERM SUSTAINABILITY OF YOUR SPECIES.

Jesus Christ.

You smudge your eyes, disappointed.

PLEASE REMOVE THEIR CORPSE FROM THE AREA AND INSTRUCT ANOTHER HUMAN TO TAKE THEIR PLACE AT THE COMPUTER,

Oh my... Oh my fucking...

MAKING SURE THEY UNDERSTAND BASIC FIRST-PERSON VIDEO GAME MECHANICS, AND FILLING THEM IN ON THE HISTORY OF NARRATIVE TROPES IN VIDEO-

"FINE!"

Oh!

"I- I'm alive and well. I haven't ceased to function."

Well, that's a relief.

That would furthermore convey that you had decited to ignore me. Stanley.

"I-yes, guess what. Okay. Yep, that was what was going on the-"

Okay, no more moment needed to fritter. Let's get this story rolling. Come now, Stanley. Hop, hop!

"You... Nevermind. Why am I even trying?"

You walk out of the broom closet.

Good job, Stanley. I knew I could count on you...

A shadow of revenge and silly washed over your figure. You leap back into the closet.

Oh, no! Oh, no no no no no no no no no no no no, not again.

You simply laugh heartly.

I won't be a part of this. I'm not going to encourage you. I'm not going to say anything at all. I'm just going to be patient and wait for you to finish whatever it is you enjoy doing so much in this room.

"Yes because you really were encouraging the first time Narrarator."

Please, just take your time.

"I will... I think I'll even take a little nap on this floor."

Don't do that Stanley. Be productive and do anything else. Ill be looking over you. Make it intresting too.

"What am I to you? What's your name?"

You are the main character in my story. Stupid and fat but, you know. Nothing is perfect.

"Oh curse you! I will never walk out of here."

Nononono! Please! I don't want to make you get out. Be reasonable.

"Aahhh that nap is looking more and more tasty..."

That is some unusual wording-, but aside from your lack of the English dictionary-

Please Stanley, don't take a nap on that hard cold stone floor.

"What? Why? It wasn't scripted?"

No, I don't care about that...

You could still hear him looking through the story papers.

You are going to get cold and feel really... Apologise my wording... Shitty once you wake up and find out that not a single combination of any sleeping pose would help you make this floor just a bit softer.
I don't want you to get hurt or feel "shitty" Stanley.

"Then why are you doing... This?"

The Narrarator sighed.

Oh, Stanley.

He sounded like a person. Yet his words and his being wasn't a person.

You get up and click the light switch off in the broom closet and return to the hall with the two doors.

You choose the door on your left.

Narrator didn't say a word. Somehow it felt eerier than when he was talking to you.

There was a staircase at the end of the hall behind that left door.

Coming to a staircase, Stanley walked upstairs to his boss's office.

"So I have a boss and he's upstairs?"

No response.

Oh please god. I hope I am not insane and talking with myself. Make the voice in my head be real and friendly.

You walk up the staircase.

"Was there anything instead of what you said when I asked 'What am I to you?'"

You speak. The staircase has a lower temperature than the rest of the office.
The lights are bluer and more dim.

You are someone very important to me. Someone I can't let go or forget.

"So, ... Who am I?"

Doesn't matter.

"It does! To me! I need to know who I am."

Even if I were to tell you. Would you beleve me? Would you actually want to know? Would I have to reset again?

"Reset?"

Reset? That sounds very familiar. Try and remember Stanley... Stanley? Is that even my name?

Oh look, you have reached the boss's office. Allow me.

You could hear his papers rusling again.

How can I speak with... Him...

Stepping into his manager's office, Stanley was once again stunned to discover not an indication of any human life.

He spoke again. It almost echoed. One of the voices was in your head and the other was almost like behind a wall.. Next door.
You walk up the stairs to the big desk.

He... Is he here?

What could it mean, he wondered. Desperate for answers, he began turning the room over looking for clues that might unravel the situation, until at last, he discovered a keypad behind the boss's desk.

No, I can definently hear him... Somewhere. Not in my head.

Just where is he.

You turn around in the office after noticing the code panel, just like The Narrator had predicted.

But alas, no code. For this keypad guarded the terrible secret that lay buried below his feet. And so the boss had assigned it an extra secret PIN number. 2845. But of course, Stanley couldn't possibly have known this.

You slowly turn around in the room pretending to look for clues.

You gradually walk across the hall with your ear close to the wall.

Somewhere...

I just have to pinpoint the sound.

Stanley continued looking around in the room... For a clue of the pin code.

"Ohh, I wonder! I wonder what is the code! It must be somewhere here!" You declare.

Not sure if it raised or lowered the suspicion.

Stanley went around touching every little thing in the office, but it didn't make a single difference, nor did it advance the story in any way.

Somewhere here... I need him to say something more just to be sure.

What could it mean, Stanley wondered aloud to nobody.

Somewhere here.

It was getting harder and harder to not make it questionable for The Narrarator.

He began wildly tearing through papers on the boss's desk, pulling books off the shelf, looking behind paintings, desperate for clues to his situation. But his attention was caught by a keypad behind the boss's desk. What could its purpos-

HERE!

You grab a doorhandle in a wall.

NO STANLEY YOU IDIOT!

YES I CAN HEAR IT. HE IS BEHIND THERE.

STANLEY GO BACK. WRONG!

Papers rusle.

It was locked. You grab a heavy book from the shelf and begin breaking down the handle with all your strenght.

STANLEY. LISTEN TO ME. THIS IS NOT PART OF THE STORY.

The wall felt paper and cheap. Set up like everything else in the building. Just this one... Felt ... Not intended to be seen.

"YOU'RE THERE AREN'T YOU NARRATOR!?"

STANLEY- DON'T-

You shout. The handle breaks. You can hear papers falling and running steps on the other side.

You smash open the door and run inside.

There's a desk and a table with a microphone and many monitors on it.

"Where the hell are you!?"

There is also another door with a wire from the recording table going there.

"Hey! Get out of there!"

Stanley! This is wrong. This is not part of the story! Get out of here before it gets more messed up than it is!

"NO! COME OUT!" You start smashing the other doorhandle with the ripped-up book.

Stanley, you can't understand what is going on here. Go back and close the door.

Pages fall from the book. They're blank.

"WHAT GAME IS THIS!? LET ME OUT!"

Now. Now Stanley. Go.

"NO!"

I am not giving you any more warnings.

"What is wrong with... You?" You fall down to your knees.

Stanley?

You had bruised your hand til it bled. It hurt.

Stanley? You allright?

"Like.. You'd care"

Are you crying Stanley? What happened?

"No..! I'm not crying." You wipe your eyes.

No-no. I can't look over you when I'm here. I can't see you. Tell me what is wrong. What happened?

You cover the bleeding with your other hand as you force the sobbing. You don't cry when you hurt yourself. This was a combination of being stuck here and hurting yourself.

Are you hurt, Stanley?

You don't respond.

Stanle- oh god. You are hurt!

"I'm fine!"

No-no, I can't take your word for it. Humans are flawed and not equipped to sense injury.

"It's nothing..."

Where does it hurt?

You don't respond.

Felt like you had broken something.

Your hand possibly? You were blind with fury, no wonder you hurt yourself!

"I had a reason!"

No-no Stanley. You had a reason to be angry with me. Not a reason to cause harm to yourself.

"I-"

It doesn't matter. Hurting yourself is never okay.

I hope you understand that.

You get quiet.

The blood from the wound starts to drip on the hard floor.

You try to hold it more down with your other hand. It just hurts more.

If I could just-

Hey Stanley, I have a little game for you.

Just for you.

You stay silent.

See that big button on my desk? Go and give it a try. It will make all better.

You get up slowly and walk over to the table.

There is a big yellow button on the desk. The kind you would see in cartoons. Just a big button.

"Restart"

"There is something written on it"

Don't mind that. Just press the button.

The Narrarator speaks.

Just press it.

"It says 'Restart'. What is it going to Restart Narrarator?"

You turn over to the closed door.

He doesn't respond.

"This is going to restart the game. Isn't it?"

It's the only way-

"You're willing to restart everything? Just because I got hurt?"

You raise your voice.

"I- how many times have you done this? You are also inside the game. If I really have played your game before and you have reset this... Then... The place must reset. That means you too. You'll go back! What... Is wrong with you!...? Why?"

Stanley, I care about you. I would go to any lenght to keep you safe.

It is not like I can do anything more. Just how stubborn are you? Every time! Every time! Just this... This hasn't happened before!

"Oh so you! You can remember!?"

You laugh. Your hand starts to really hurt.

"How convenient! You can do anything you want-"

You fall on the ground. Fuck. Why is it bleeding more.

Did I pierce an artery?

No, Stanley. I'll have a hint but that is all.

The door opens. You try to look up but it hurts too much.

How did this happen?

There is a reason. An explanation. A justification to all of this. You're just not ready to hear it all yet. Not ultimately.

Someone's gentle arms lift you up from the ground and lift you up to the chair.

"I-" You try to get a look at him but he presses down on your wound. It hurts incredibly. Forces you to shut your eyes tight.

I can't have you seeing me. It is not in the Story, Stanley.

"It really hurts Narrarator"

Should've thought about that before you decited to bust your hand open and wreck my super secret passageway.

You lean your head back on the basic officechair with wheels.

Now...

You open your eyes and grab a bowl of cereal from the table and cover the Restart button. Cereal spills everywhere. You close your eyes and rest your head on the bowl while breathing heavily.

Stanley- ! You're going to open up the wound even more. You... You really don't trust me.

Your blood drips.

"I felt... That... You would press the button."

He stays quiet as you grit your teeth. It really hurt.

Particularly an empath. Sensing things like that.

He takes your broken hand gently. You let him.

Oh, Stanley. You did quite a number on your hand here. Are they your enemy or something? I am not familiar with your relationship with your hand.

"You're dumb"

.... What?

You chuckle. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Oh, you.

He is also speaking with a lighter tone.

I'll go and get a first aid kit. You stay here and do not touch anything. Could you do that for me? Also...

His hands move around your forearm.

Could you hold your arm up?

It would be much easier to use the Restart button but, if you want to do it this way. I guess for once I can listen to my Storie's main character.

But rest assured. This won't happen ever again! Oh how I hate taking care of people.

His steps go further.

He was problary wearing a headpiece. That's why it still felt like he was talking to you inside your head. But also you could hear him... As a person.

You can hear the door close. You lift your head. The monitor's are just displaing yellow. Some are black. Narrator must've turned them off when you hit the door down.

You wipe the cerial off your white office shirt.

What a mess.

Your hand was still aching very much but curiosity was more important to you.

Behind the desk on the wall, were shelves. The cheap dark blue metal one's that you would see in a warehouse.

They had some hazy books on them.

Aside from that. There was a air vent in the right cornee of the small room. Some normal, regular office lights that were buzzing steadily.

I hope I didn't make him too mad.

You stand up. More blood drips out of the wound.

Ow...

You push it against your chest as you struggle around the space.

I'm sure if turning off monitors goes as quickly .. Then turning them on should be just as easy...

You kneel down to the cords.

No...

What are you doing Stanley?

You turn to the door, no one was there.

"Uh, nothing!"

You confident?

"Yep!" You keep looking at the door.

Okay. Just so you know. I don't believe you. Get back to the desk if you have moved from the chair. That chair is really crucial for me. I can't beleve you managed to spill my cereal all over it. Can't remember if Stanley was just as clumsy as you.

Y

ou turn away from the door back to the cables.

I am walking back now. You better not have bled all over the place.
Ohh... It is going to take so long to clean it all up, without the restart button. You sure you don't want me to just... Give it a a minor press?

"100%, don't touch that thing!"

You keep looking under the screens. There are power switches.

A smile of curiosity and slight uncertainty falls on you. You switch them on one by one. The displays go black.

Oh... So there is some other control.

You stand up but slip. You catch yourself using the desk to keep your balance.

Oh god damn it.

Your blood was on the floor. You look up.

Come on now. If he gets back you have to save your memories. Come on.

You press the power switch again. The monitors show a connecting symbol.

"15% loaded...
Connecting all cameras"

Okay, this is good.

You help yourself fully up.

And that door. What is behind that?

You walk over there.

Gosh my hand hurts.

You were afraid to look down. Problary you would see your forarm bone through your artery.

"Blind with rage"... huh?

You push open the door.

There is a bathroom. A small shower. A sink. Big mirror and yellow light. There were few towels too.
Also a another door. The bathroom was very small. When you push the door open, you can barely get in because of the toilet blocking the door from fully opening.

You hold yourself up by the counter as you try to reach for the other door.

You pass by the mirror and close your eyes. You don't want to see your broken limb.

Who.. Who is that?

You just lightly peek.

I don't recognize myself though I have no idea what I am supposed to look like.

You touch your slim H/c color hair and look at your E/c color eyes.

Wow...

This is interesting.

A smile appears on your face.

No this is dumb.

You close your eyes and struggle over to the door.

You try pulling it. No. It is a pushing door.

You barely get the handle down before you get the door open.

This room has a lot more space.

It looks like a spacious simple bland hotell room.

There is a big king-size bed in the middle of the room. The covers are dark hotel blue just like the floor carpet. There are huge windows in front of you. They reach from the floor to the ceiling and then stop with blue curtains.

The walls are white. There is a black reading lamp on each side of the hotel bed on a dark little wooden table.

All of this is clean and cheap. Just like when you walk into your hotel room for the first time.

It is filled with fresh cold air.

You glance down.

A mini fridge!

You almost fall down as you try to crouch and open the small cabinet.

Soda and chips and chocolate.

I like soda.

You take it. The can is cold.

You sit on the pale bed and shut the fridge door with your feet as you open the can.

The beverage was chilly and frothy.

It was also constantly trying to slip from your hand because of the blood.

I better lay down. I feel tired.

I will get up soon...

I just...

Need to rest my eyes for a bit.

You look at the ceiling. And close your eyes.

The secret door opens. It was almost torn apart. It was basically made from cardboard.

Door shuts.

So Stanley, what kind of plaster would you ...

Stanley.

The room was empty.

Stanley?

He rushes to the monitors.

Oh, Stanley.

They had completed loading and were showing the hallways.

Stanley? Where are you? I told you not to touch anything.

Stanley!?

He takes off the bowl from the yellow big Restart button but the blood drips catch his eyes.

They haven't left this room.

He looks at the half open bathroom door.

Oh Stanley. Ohh.... Stanley.

Come out now.

No response. He sighs and puts the first aid box in his left hand as he takes a hammer from the shelf behind him.

He opens the door with his leg as he steps in.

You were nowhere to be seen. The bedroomdoor was half open.

Stanley, you really decided to look this whole place through. Didn't you? Though I asked you to stay perfectly still.

I didn't want you to get hurt, Stanley.

He walks closer to the bedroom door slowly.

His hand gripping the hammer.

You can never do as told. Can you?

He rushed the door open.

Stan- Stanley?...!

He drops his things and runs closer to your motionless body. His bed wraps covered with blood.

STANLEY!?

He takes your arm and touches the pulse.

You.. You are alive... Thank god.

He sighs and takes off his headpiece.

Alive but asleep, asleep on my mattress. I knew I shouldn't left you alone here. Can't trust you.

Ohh..

He sighs again. Of relief.

So where am I supposed to do nothing?

He takes the hammer and first aid kit from the carpet and throws the hammer in the bin before kneeling before your open wounded hand.

And my-my... I was right.

He started cleaning the wound.

You have bled everywhere.