DISCLAIMER:
All information regarding the structure, climate, and wildlife of this level is taken from the diary of a wanderer who previously lived here for an unknown number of years. We cannot guarantee the accuracy of the details found in his diary or in interviews with staff. The identity of the diary’s author is withheld due to his possession of confidential information relevant to other groups.1 As of now, the wanderer is being held in custody by the Coalition of Backrooms Survivors.
SURVIVAL DIFFICULTY:
Class 2
- Unsafe
- Unstable
- No entities
The Ancient House is a mysterious level within Cluster A of the Backrooms. It appears as a vast, opulent mansion composed of various halls, lobbies, and chambers designed in a Greco-Roman style. The scale of each room is enormous—its structures often exceed human height by dozens or even hundreds of times.
The first drawing sketched by the diary’s owner. The depicted location is believed to be the initial chamber where wanderers arrive after falling out of reality.
Description:
To the wanderer, the Ancient House resembled a strange, abandoned world made up of endless colossal halls and lobbies in a grotesque Greek style. The level experiences a full day-night cycle. In the west, there is a celestial body referred to as the “Moon”—a bright orb that often disappears behind walls and massive columns. Its nighttime glow is intense, making the darkness here less oppressive than in similar levels. The sun rises in the east, and from that direction come birds identical to those found on the Frontrooms. The weather in the House varies greatly. The wanderer, who lived here for many years, survived both freezing winters and unbearably hot summers. Precipitation of fresh water is common. However, caution is advised—despite the high and sturdy ceilings, they can collapse due to excessive humidity.
The walls that make up nearly the entire level are rough and resemble bright unpolished gray marble. Along the sides stand various statues—each one unique. Throughout his many years in the House, the wanderer never encountered a single repeated sculpture. He noted that a single large room could contain over 60 statues. These differences made navigation easier. The diary’s owner often sketched them, and each page of his journal features objects that caught his attention.
I forgot how I ended up in this eerily strange place.
Audiobook
My first memory was confusion, and my first feeling was fear. I remember looking around one of the dark halls, and it seemed like someone was hiding behind the shadows of the statues. The statues themselves, which looked like real people, frightened me! These feelings shifted into another wave of bewilderment… Water! It soaked my shoes! That salty menace surged into my room from other halls. Yet, as strange as the constant water and the menacing, time-frozen statues were, I was most captivated by the walls. They appeared ancient and brittle. Some had bizarre patterns that resembled Aztec scribbles. I tried to chip off a small tile with my long fingers, but failed. The material was surprisingly strong, though it initially seemed crumbly.
I also noticed that all the statues were different. With a closer look, I could see subtle differences between each one of them. The first sculpture I encountered resembled an ancient warrior. Based on his clothing, I deduced he was a Dorian blowing a massive trumpet, nearly half his own height. The Dorian was special—like every other statue, he wore his own marble attire and bore a fierce grimace. In distant halls, however, the statues were more abstract, resembling modern surrealist art. Most were two to three meters tall; some reached four meters, while others were barely a meter high—these stone figures and monsters barely reached my navel. But there were also giants—massive sculptures standing alone in the center of vast halls. Their height ranged from ten to thirty meters. These giants were exceptions to the usual rules. I didn’t encounter them often, but their presence both terrified and intrigued me…
Who built them?!
An image of one of the large halls. You can see that most of the area is covered with clouds. "This is a beautiful petrified world. Everything has frozen in a single moment; the only things moving here are the fluffy clouds that have embraced an entire hall. It’s just enormous… It seems like even a whole week wouldn’t be enough to fully explore it."
According to the wanderer, the floors below his living area were mostly flooded with saltwater. Thus, the level’s structure consists of lower layers—an entire tidal ocean; middle layers—inhabited by birds and other life forms; and upper layers—which are too cold for animals to survive. The topmost layer is usually filled with fluffy clouds. The wanderer wrote in his diary:
"This is because it lies within an ‘improvised’ layer of this world’s troposphere. The clouds gather there and fill the upper halls with mist. I believe this happens because they are lighter than air and have nowhere else to go!"
His attempt to climb above this layer failed. He attributed the failure to the thin air, difficulty breathing, and excessive humidity. According to his diary, after nearly dying during his first ascent to the upper floors, he vowed never to climb above the middle layer again. On the page titled “About the Upper Layers,” he writes:
I Will Never Climb to the Upper Layers Again!
Audiobook
One early, windy morning, a small egg fell near my head. I was stunned! My diet for the past week had consisted only of fish, and now—out of nowhere—a bird’s egg! Since that day’s “fall,” I thought about it and decided that there might be other forms of wildlife in the upper layers, and therefore—new food. This decision boosted my motivation, but my preparations were rushed and far from serious. The only thing I managed to do was dry my old clothes.2
I packed a bit of food for the journey and gathered a small bundle of firewood—though not the kind, you, dear reader, might expect. It was dried seaweed from the area, which burns well in any season. I threw everything into a small backpack, and after saying goodbye to the statues, I set off.
My path led through the Twentieth North Hall. I remember that not long ago, the ceilings of the Twenty-First East Hall collapsed. This natural event changed the weather in the next nine halls. The clouds, which previously rose to the upper floors, now lingered in the middle layers of the House. Some halls became hazy and unstable, and the air took on a sour, lime-like dampness. I remember the Twenty-First Hall clearly because it had the only statue of a giant tree and the smallest trees I’d ever seen. The columns in that hall were among the largest I’d encountered.
I carefully climbed through the debris of the collapsed ceiling. Getting injured in the House is a direct path to death. I have no medicine to treat wounds, and the local microflora is unknown to me. If I get hurt, I’ll suffer heavy bleeding at best—or die a horrible death at worst. I didn’t want the latter, so I stepped even more cautiously. One step. Another. A third. By sunset, I reached the snow-white ceiling. There was a small hole through which I hoped to reach the layer above. Before entering, I took a bird’s-eye view of the hall below. The tide from the South 10th Hall would begin tomorrow morning… I hoped to reach the Third Lobby before I’d need to escape the upper layers.
I crawled through the hole. I’m entering some clarifications into my diary. It’s quite damp here; breathing is harder, and the wind has clearly picked up. I feel cold—the temperature is several times lower than in the middle layers of the House, around 0°C. I see no birds or nests. It’s dark. The crevice through which I could see the world I knew has nearly vanished. I decided not to stray more than a hundred meters from the crack. I’m afraid of getting lost.
There were statues on this layer too. The one I liked most was a gargoyle curled into a ball. Its mouth was open in a strange half-smile, and it gave me confidence. I quickly sketched it. Then I moved on to another hall. The first thing I encountered was a huge pool filled to the brim with water—but due to the low temperature, it was completely frozen. I decided not to continue exploring the upper halls; I felt my clothes wouldn’t withstand the cold much longer.
The way back wasn’t long—it took me about ten minutes. But when I returned to the hole, I was stunned… The tide I had expected only the next morning had already begun. Water had flooded nearly the entire hall. I wouldn’t be able to return for the next three days…
I jumped from one guess to another. How could I forget the tide? I never forget such things—they’re vital to me. What madness! I lost my mind a couple of times and cursed the House for its tactlessness toward me. But I still had to live in the upper layers for those three days. And I did…
The firewood lasted only one day. It burned terribly—apparently, the humidity in this layer was too high for a proper fire. I emptied my backpack and kept moving to stay warm. Two more days passed like that. It’s worth noting that the low tide had a positive effect on the weather in the upper layers—it became slightly warmer. Most likely, the water pushed all the warm air to the top of the House.It helped me survive…
I will never climb to the upper layers again!
The third drawing in the collection. It was traced from the 35th northeast hall.
"This hall was recently flooded, so many of the walls are still covered in algae. The statues here are scattered chaotically; for a brief moment, upon entering this room, I involuntarily thought they were all alive…"
Flora and fauna:
No Backrooms entities were found here, but that doesn’t mean life is absent. In the water, you can see massive schools of fish swimming past the algae. The wanderer also encountered various bird families; they often nest on the statues. There are no trees on this level, so birds use algae washed ashore and dried by the sun as nesting material. These algae are abundant because fragile rhizoids3 cannot grow or cling tightly to marble slabs. Sometimes, tides bring entire mountains of underwater plants and algae into certain halls. These currents also deliver other essential survival items.
About the People Who Lived Here
Audiobook
There were definitely at least three people in the House.
The first is me, the only living one here. I’ll list the others in the order I found them.
The second was the headless man. One day, when the sun was especially bright, I went to re-explore other halls. In one of the lobbies, I noticed a small staircase leading to the 7th East Hall. There, I saw a skeleton washed up by the waves. He had no skull or clothes, so I couldn’t determine his gender. His height without a head was about 170 cm, slightly shorter than me. On his back was a small backpack that had miraculously survived. Since I already had my own, I didn’t take it from this poor dead man. From then on, that backpack became his distinguishing feature…
The only thing I could do to help him—I’ve already done. I think he would’ve wanted peace, so I gathered his remains and laid them in a dry, quiet place. That place was my Home. As I moved his body piece by piece, I wondered: “If there are skeletons, then people were here before me?” “Maybe they live somewhere far away?” “What if I explore the House—will I find living people?”
Honestly, I’ve grown used to the solitude here. And to be honest with you, dear reader, I’m not alone. I have statues, birds, and fish that often swim up to my dwelling during high tide. I felt that even the House itself had become an integral part of me. On calm days, I tried to find signs it might be sending me—like the lightning that flashed and struck the ceilings during rainy seasons. This rich company is enough for me!
Still, I’d like to know how this person lived. How did he die? Did he miscalculate the tide and drown? Maybe he got injured and developed an infection? These are mysteries I’ve decided to solve over time.
By the way—before I forget—I did decide to search his backpack. Inside, I found a small lighter filled with water instead of gas, a small blanket which I dried and placed under his body, and a small flashlight. I left it to bask in the sun, and to my surprise—it worked! Thanks to it, I can write my diaries even at night!
Besides these useful items, I found colored crayons in a small box at the bottom of his backpack—both black and white. I gave up on the white ones immediately. Even if I drew something with them, I wouldn’t see it—almost all the walls are made of white marble. But the black crayons were a stroke of luck! Thanks to them, I started marking different halls. I hope my notes will find a reader someday. Maybe… I’ll meet a real, living person like me.
Anyway… enough about the headless man and my dreams! This skeleton wasn’t the only person I found.
After many cycles of day and night, and long wanderings through halls with three-digit numbers, I found another person! He was dead too… But this time, the skeleton had a skull and was tall—about 20 cm taller than me. I’m certain he was a renowned scientist. He reminded me of a statue in the 83rd North Hall—a tall man with a huge beard, wearing an unusual white robe and holding shattered hourglasses. I think he was a scientist too, since he wore the same robe.
I treated this skeleton the same way I did the headless one—I brought his remains closer to my shelter. On the long walk back, I tried to think of a name for him, but he gave no sign. I know, I know—maybe it’s silly—but in my dreams, it seemed like the headless man often spoke and answered my questions. Could this be the same case? I hope he’s just as talkative and tells me his real name.
Last recovered drawing. On the back of the sketch was written:
"This is the 105th South Hall. Reaching it was quite difficult, but its beauty overshadowed all my efforts. I captured it on paper just as it was. Beautiful, isn’t it? I’m glad I managed to sketch it before the flooding… I hope you find my other drawings, Fourth.”
Anomalies
The wanderer claimed that sometimes, along with the ebb tide, objects would surface in the halls and lobbies—items that were somehow essential for human survival. It is believed that these objects fall out of Backroom's reality and into the reality of the Ancient House. One day, a small transparent container washed up near the diary owner’s dwelling. Inside was a completely empty journal. Similar events occurred with various multivitamins, which were vital to the wanderer’s survival in the House.
The Wealth of the House
Audiobook
My House is rich in gifts. Every week, its currents bring various items in containers to my shelter. Usually, these include multivitamins, clothing, citrus products, books, paper, and pencils. But there are exceptions. Sometimes, truly strange things drift into my chambers.
One day, I found a box filled with torn yellow wallpaper. I’ve also come across unusual wrappers containing all sorts of treats. One of them had a strange label, “ShiSh”, which I had never seen before. I was afraid to eat anything unfamiliar, so I stashed the treat in the far corner of my shelter. But the wrapper, which reflected sunlight, I kept with me—it might come in handy!
The House also sent me a strange kind of water. I had never tasted anything like it before—this sweet water. I liked it. I hope the House sends me another bottle of it someday.
The strangest gift I received was an unusual headdress, identical to one I had seen on a statue in the 53rd West Hall. I felt a strange aura emanating from it. I didn’t dare wear it on my face. Instead, I placed it on one of the nearby statues. From that moment on, the statue of the woman with the honey pot looked more like a jester. It amused me—I hope the House won’t be offended by my antics.
The House is unpredictable. It exerts a strange effect that defies explanation. After spending several years, months, or even days within it, certain memories from the past—specifically those from before entering this level—begin to disappear. This phenomenon makes locating the entrance to the level nearly impossible. All wanderers who somehow manage to reach this level are advised to record their past lives to avoid losing vital information about themselves.
I Forgot Something
Audiobook
I woke up completely shattered—because of what happened the previous day. I wandered into the Ninth Hall to gather a few clams and seaweed. My thoughts were foggy, and my actions incoherent. Just like this morning—they were dulled, but the urge to be angry at myself kept growing. From time to time, a quiet cry of despair escaped my lips. My brain began to adjust to the confusion. The sound of the surf intensified, and the crashing waves drowned out all my thoughts…
I forgot something. Something clearly important.
Yesterday, I decided to reread my own diary. I don’t know what impulse led me to do it, but I did. How I regret it! My pragmatic and always-reliable memory failed me. Again!
I started reading from the very first page. On it, I saw a strange word—or maybe initials: “K.R.A.” It was written on the spine of my diary. It obviously meant something. I thought it might be a name… It felt that way, like a distant intuition from the far corners of my memory. Could it be my name?! I was confused… I couldn’t collect myself for a long time. But… I’m just a child of my House! Who is “K.R.A.”? And why do hundreds of faces flash through my mind when I hear those initials? On the same page, I came across words like “Levels,” “Backrooms,” and others… All of it filled me with dread. What is this? Why is it in my diary? Why do these words make my head ache?
I threw my diary into a distant dry corner of my hall. I was afraid to read further—afraid I’d discover something I had forgotten. I don’t remember writing it. I fear I’ll find something that will shatter my life here in my House. I don’t want to understand it. But my “second self”—this “K.R.A.”—apparently does.I’m afraid of my second self. I’m afraid of this “K.R.A.”
I fear what lurks behind my past.
I hope the House protects me from this knowledge.
I truly hope so.
Bases, outposts, and settlements:
There are no settlements. The only refuge is the First Hall. The wanderer lived on a small marble elevation adjacent to one of the statues. If you stand in the center of the hall, his dwelling can be found to the northwest. The statue is heavily deformed, making it impossible to determine what it originally depicted.
Entrances and Exits:
Entrances
Due to the severe effects of amnesia, it was impossible to learn from the wanderer how he entered this level. Researchers from the CBS speculate that he deliberately avoids discussing the entrance due to hidden motives.
Exits
Reliable exits are unknown. However, the wanderer mentions that while exploring new halls, he simply fell through a small translucent marble tile. The person who wrote the diaries was later captured on Level A-55, where he was apprehended by a CBS task force.
Last entry
Audiobook
In my mind, the tides ebb and flow—the places they will pass through, and the times they will begin. In my mind are the marble lobbies and halls, their endless series of tangled passages flashing before my eyes. Sometimes I close my eyes and simply imagine my former Home. I mentally name a direction, a hall, and then walk slowly through its vastness. Statues stand on either side of me—many of which I still haven’t forgotten.
Yesterday, I dreamt of those halls again.
I thought I saw the statue of the Dorian with the trumpet wailing sadly at my departure.Upon waking, I realized… I am far from my true Home.