Games

As you close a door, you’re confused why it was open in the first place. Firmly grasping the knob, the door clicks shut. Eyes focused on the rust stained dimensional handle, you study it, hoping it’ll reveal a clue to two questions: where were you before and where are you now. Which is more important? The knob offers no guidance; it is as ambiguous as the place you have entered. Turning away from the door you take in the setting: dimly lit, chipped maroon brick compose the walls behind and to the sides of you; metal beams form a maze of structural banners that Atlas an overhanging velvet curtain draping nearby; and a few meters in front of you, a sphere of light marked on an oak wood floor. You have two options:

Turn back and leave through the door by which you came, or

Let indecision ferment into fear, consuming your fragile psyche until you commit suicide on the sharp edge of the closest metal beam, vainly hoping it’ll bring you to another time or place…, or

you walk towards the light. Heels tapping the floor with the rapture of a lone marching band drummer. Stepping into the light you blow away the suspended dust particles that move like mini clouds through the lowest layer of the troposphere. APPLAUSE FILLS THE ROOM. Clapping from all directions forward. The light augments and reveals the stage that you are standing on. Hundreds of seats present themselves. Without control, your arms raise and wave to the constituents of the theater. Brash music blares and again without control you begin to dance, and the audience lovingly laughs and praises you. But it doesn’t feel right. You aren’t in control. Someone, something, some force is moving you – tugging at your limbs and forcing you forward for the enjoyment of the crowd. With all your might you strain your eyes to see your appendages connected to an assembly of string stretching into the ether of unknown volume above your head. You are a puppet. What do you do?:

Let the puppeteer control you. It is too hard to fight against the force. The show eventually ends and the light turns off. Alone in the dark, you fall asleep and begin to dream of being free…

You fight against against the force of the puppeteer. The applause stops. You gnaw at the string and free an arm loose, and rip at the strings holding your other limbs. Tension fills the room. The only sound is the uncontrollable grunting as you struggle to rip the cords off. Every moment that passes makes you feel more uneasy and less safe. The theater lights turn on, and the crowd is exposed. Sitting in the seats are large, cat-sized rats with thick pools of saliva drooling down their sharply serrated teeth. Leaping out of the seats they scramble towards you, hungry for vengeance. What do you do next?

Run backstage to the door you closed. Grasping the knob you turn and pull and plead but it will not open. The mob of rats surround you. Tearing skin and flesh they eat you alive. Refusing to let go of the past, you die holding onto the same rust stained knob. Your spirit leaves this place and you are brought to a new one…

Unwavering, you hold your ground against the rats. They stop charging and instead stare in awe. No one has ever questioned the puppeteer and now, you do not run from them either. You walk towards them, and a path is created to the entrance of the theater, and you leave