Hello

Hello,

it looks like I'm stuck in a room. I don't know how I ended up here or why, I am just... here.

The room seems like it was under restoration; cupboards are randomly placed, books are everywhere, and the only clean spot is occupied by a single chair and a well-organized table.

There are a surprisingly huge amount of supplies (non-perishable food, water, etc. in a cupboard, which is next to a wall, fortunately), a rather big bucket, a mechanical pencil, pens, leads, ink cartridges (seemingly hundreds), and dozens of notebooks. It's like someone was to prepare to spend a long time in here. Except for the bucket; even though I haven't known why is that here, it didn't take much time to figure out. Yes, it is for *that*.

You may wonder how I'm able to write this down without any slur of hopeless cry for help. The secret is, I'm done with them.

Hello,

I can barely sleep. Though I made a pretty good "bunk" out of books (not literally a "bunk"), the lights are always on. All I can do is turning off the little lamp on the table. I know what you're asking: "Why don't you simply turn off the other lamps as well?"

Well, it's more difficult than it sounds. I tried to find where the power comes from by following the wire of the desk lamp (that is the only visible wire). It goes right into the wall. I don't know how they accomplished it, but around the wire there's no visible space whatsoever, like they had built the wall onto the wire. I wanted to look for switches, but garbage is everywhere. Sometime I shall do some cleaning (or rather organizing) and solve this mystery for good.

Hello,

today I discovered one important little detail: DO NOT eat or drink too much, unless you want to live like a pig. While I have plentyful of everything, I've got only one bucket and this is a problem. A pretty big one. It's only my second day here (if we don't count that I was painfully yelling "help me" for about five hours after I woke up here), yet the bucket is obviously filling already. I CANNOT let the bucket fill up!

Any ideas? What can I do?

Hello,

I think I haven't written about my desk lamp so far. Well, not that it was *that* special or anything. It has two functions: besides the usual one (i.e. producing some light), it also shows numbers in a random order when I push the button on its base.

Luckily my friend's doing well. I've been thinking though: how the hell there is no smell? Maybe my nose got used to it, but that still doesn't explain everything. I'm not aware of any window or vent, and yet I never had any problem with breathing. I can't even guess how much oxygen is in a room like this, but I think I should be feeling something if there was a problem with the (seemingly nonexistent) ventilation.

Hello,

I just realized that my legs are almost always moving. I've got a theory about it: since I'm alone here (am I?), there aren't any sound aside from what I make and, as we know, people go crazy in "deaf rooms". I think somehow my brain have come up with the idea of "Thou shouldst move thy legs for making noise!" I always imagine my brain would use "thou".

I can be wrong though. Oh, and finally I managed to make a wall visible and also I've done some ordering. This wall is about five steps long, shorter than I originally thought. I also tried to measure the height of the room; if I reach my arm above my head, the ceiling is only about one hand away. It seems to be low to me. As far as I know, the ceiling was/is higher in my room... In my *real* room. that's in my apartment. In our apartment...

The more I think of it, the more I'm curious where the door shall be...

FOUND IT!

Hello, by the way.

All day's hard work finally pays off! I cleared three walls, moved hundreds of books and cupboards, there's only one wall left. There, on this wall, must be a door or a trapdoor or a window. If there isn't, then how did they put me over here?

I also tried to read some books, but those words means nothing to me; they are written in a language I don't understand. Or in language*s* that I don't understand.

Hello,

I've found it. I mean this time I've really found it. I can see it, I can touch it, I can smell it. And the padlock as well.

I gotta find the key, I guess. This door is interesting though. Whoever made this room, they made it sure that every wire goes right through the walls or the ceiling perfectly, and as I see, the door is perfectly aligned with the wall. There are no gaps or any kind of imperfections whatsoever.

Moving that cupboard though... I'm tired. I am very tired. It's filled with books. All I want is to sleep now.

Hello,

I was trying to find a book that I might understand, when a paper fell out of one of them. Whoever wrote it, someone did a good job with hiding every crucial detail. I was so happy at first, but then I started to read it and... I better just copy it as is.

Daiari

Wans yu got hier, yu wont bi enihwer els. Pripeer, cøz yul daist hier. Þers no oðer wæi. Am øwer ov et liist fav oðørs bifor mi. Am skerd. A dont wanna da. Bat hwat cen a du? Pliis if yu can fand ma bodi en tec it bek to ma maa. Yul faynd hør in [...] ov [...]. Hø neim iz [...]. A hop yul mec it aut a hier.

[...] wiþ lav.

It just... It frightens me. The thought is enough that there was someone before me. I mean there were *others* before me. Or weren't? Maybe they took the book from somewhere else and put it here. Which would mean... I don't wanna know. Thing is, someone censored it. This. Is. A. Fact. Fuck it... I should feel something, right? And yet I fell... nothing. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

As I was thinking about it, this occured to me: there may or may not be corpses near me. Perhaps this is all a big puzzle that I have to solve to get out of here. I do not know. Now I'm skerd too. Or not. I don't know anymore. I think this letter would have had more effect on me if I haven't read it about a hundred times already. Or if I haven't waited for hours before finishing this one.

Hello,

I was thinking about that letter. A lot. This whole situation doesn't feel real. I am here, I eat, I sleep, I shit, but it's like a weird status quo by now, rather than a real threat where I don't even know where I am, only consuming, processing and eliminating food of unknown origin. Is it even real?

So, instead of getting crazy (crazier?), I'm trying to find something to open the door, whether that is a key, a crowbar, or anything else. While I'm looking for that something, I started putting the books onto shelves and double-check the cupboards, drawers, etc. for accidentally skipped hidden spaces and false bottoms.

Hello,

I have written about the air vent before. I wanted to upen it since I've founded it days ago, but I... forgot it. I was organizing and clearing, let alone reading that letter... Anyway, today I finally opened it and... long story short, I'm doomed.

Now the long story long: After I built a climbable pile of books and opened the vent, I found a paper, folded in half, and a key along with a label attached to it, saying 'R#4'. I'm only guessing, but that 'R' probably stands for 'room', and thus it means 'room number four'. So there are other rooms as well (which is unsettling to say the least) and I might not be alone. Although I hope I will not meet the writer of this...

Ai cænnt doo ðis ænimor. Ai em hiør forr mor ðænn ø uik nåu. Ai hædd inaff. Ai wan too end ðis. Ðeers no room forr mæi laiff. But iff ðer wyldønt bi ø råpp ai wyldønt nåu wut aid doo...

Ai hop såmwan wil fåund ðis lettur. Aima dråp ðis dåun ði ær vent ølång uiþ æ kiy ai fand in enåðr vent. It dåsnt anlåkk mæi låkks, bat it mei uill yårs.. Ai hop ðiz gå þru ål ðe wæi ænd it endz ap såmwer. Good bæi end if iur in ðis sityuæsjøn too, good lakk.

Ænzli

It may not be long, but it's so much more ... than the other one. And it is not censored, it's got a name! Too bad I don't know anything more about her... him... em. About em.

At least this whole thing gave me an idea: what if I'll find a vent or something that I can drop my messages into? I should collect my notes and organize my diary. Perhaps one day someone will find 'em...

PS: the key isn't for my lock.

Hello,

I'm just being here, nothing's happening, unless I do something.

What could I do anyway? Solving this "mystery" for good? It sounds fine for sure, but I cannot have a "big revelation" every day.

I don't have anything else to say.

Hello,

I was looking for the key, when I realized, I won't find it. I've been looking for it for days now. So why should I be looking for a key, which isn't even here?

I have to find alternatives: bashing through the door, picking the lock, or cutting through the wall with a pen, thus I can leave this *motha' fuckin' room*. I've already had enough of it.

These "plans" aren't rational though. What have I got? Only books, the furniture, the supplies and that rope. No more, no less, only these. I am tired. It's time to sleep a bit.

Hello,

I've sweat through my clothes tonight. What the fuck was that?

You know what? Fuck it. I have more urgent things to do than analyzing my fucked up dreams, goddammit... I have to figure out how to get through that door. Sadly I'm still in need of a good idea.

I barely eat. Not that I'd have a good appetite here, but the bucket's simply gonna be full soon, sooner than I'd like. I think I have about three days before the shit literally overflows. I even thought about drinking uring... I've read that it shouldn't cause problems (as long as its my own), but I can't bear its taste. Plus it's salty, so there's that as well.

Hello.

When I woke up what did I see? An empty bucket, lying, its content (what was still within) is leaking, and the odor... It was strong. Unavoidable. Shite. Well, it's shit after all.... And let's not even mention those dreams.

I just want to end this. End this all. Not worrying about shit or supplies or reasons. I grabbed the rope and start tying. They call it the "hangman's knot"... what a funny, perfect name.

As I was tying, a certain feeling got me. This tranquility, this peace is indescribable. I can't put it into words, it's like floating above the earth, nothing can harm me, everything is nice and nothing hurts anymore. No language is able to express this kind or level of calm.

And that's it. I made up my mind. No more mystery. No more misery. And since this is my last letter, all I wanna say is:

Surprise!

I'm here and it all set up. I was ready to do what I already prepared to do, but right after writing that letter I saw that one of the cupboard's leg is bent inwards. And I had a rope...

I had a rope. I had a padlock and I had an eye (or whatever they call it, that hook that holds the lock), both are somewhat "oversized". Luckily there was enough space to put a few strands of the rope through them. Though the strands were thin, they looked strong enough. All I had to do is to pull really hard. I failed.

I panicked, "what if it won't work?" It did not, but nevertheless, I felt that it loosened a bit; even if it's very unlikely, it gave me the will to continue. All I needed is more power.

There was a cupboard behind me. The rope was long enough, I was able to wrap it around the cupboard, that I'd filled with books. After these, it was just a simple push. Nothing, but a push. The cupboard landed with a huge and terrible noise, nothing like I've heard before, and the ring was gone. It actually tore a part out of the door as well! Yet, I was afraid: I haven't got the courage to go through the door. Tonight I'll sleep with my back on the door and tomorrow... Well, we'll see.

Hello,

it was only one step. One little step. How can this be such a game changer? Everything has changed when I woke up in that room and yet, since that day, everything became constant. I was there, I lived and survived apparently, but what for? For a toilet? For water? For even more questions? As I'm writing these down, it looks more and more like a pretty good deal (definitely better than it was).

There was a whole new world in front of me: there's a kitchen across the room. The first thing I saw was a sink. And I had to try. And I cried. I was so happy that I cried. It was water. Fresh water. Cold and water. WATERRR!

I was so excited, I didn't think, just ran into every room and finally, it was there: the bathroom. Everything I needed: a sink, a toilet (that I used immediately, since I was so excited that I almost wet myself) and a shower. An old, rusty, ugly, scaled, functioning shower. The water's cold, cold as the frozen hell during winter, but I didn't care. I didn't give a fuck. I had to use it at *any* cost.

Now I'm waiting, because I am soaked and cold and I may (surely) get the cold, but my only thought is "totally worth it".

Hello,

I think I managed not to get the cold. I guess so. I hope so.

Today I was exploring this apartment and I've hit the jackpot! By hit I mean found, and by jackpot, I mean booze! And food. This was a good day. Besides the cleaning, ordering and trying to figure out what that table says next to the front door (i.e. the door that might be the front door; it's closed, so changes are pretty good), this was a good day.

I tried to decipher this weird writing, but I had to focus on more important things: this Scotch is really good. Maybe only the alcohol makes me say this, but I fell like I'd be a little smelly... Which is weird, since I just showered the other day.