The lights dim, and you see nothing. You can’t remember anything that just happened. You find a candle and a matchbox with 20 matches. You light the candle. 19 matches left. You see that the room is small and damp. You hear footsteps, and try to find a way out. There’s a vent, and a rotten wood ladder. You try to climb it, but it snaps. The steps are faster now, almost like running. A cabinet is blocking the door, however, so you should be safe for a little longer. You find a 2×4 and replace the rung. You are in the vent system now. You faintly hear someone call your name: Chel….
The candle dies, so you light it again. 18 left. It’s dank and reeks of old allergens and rotting flesh. Probably a rat, or something. Your long hair keeps getting in the way, and you peek into an empty office through a grate. Dead people everywhere, yet not a single laceration. You go down. It’s farther than you thought, and you brace for impact. 30 feet later, and you’re fine. You’ve just lost all your matches and candle.You don’t question it though. Light seeps in through cracks in the ceiling. Broken glass and blood cover the floor. One man has a notebook. You pick it up. The cover is in numbers, so you turn to the first page.
Day 998 “Caroline, this was never was anticipated. I’m sorry this happened to you. My dear, testing will cease as soon as possible.” Day 999 ”1000 days of science. The time has flown so quickly. My dear, you will live forever. We have made a special device to put you in. You will have ultimate control. And you will be able to talk with me again. Tomorrow, it will happen.” Day 1000 “Today is the day. We have invited the public to see this amazing event unfold. Please forgive me, Caroline.” Day 1000b “This is a disaster, we didn’t order neurotoxin! Everyone is dead, and I soon will be too. The cover says W-lc–e t- -pe—-e. Help…”
When I turned to the cover, I saw now what it read. And I was horrified. This was a terrible place with no escape.
It said “ Welcome to Aperture”