⚠️ Content Warnings ⤴
Info
Written by 
Moose0
Thank you Critters!
Vault (x2)
CROOOKIE
Samedo07
!!CONTENT WARNINGS!!
Implied child death
Feelings of entrapment
Mention of sacrifice
Yes, golf IS this serious.
Author's Note.
This is the first part of a 3–4-part miniseries I'm working on. This won't be the last your see of this protagonist, don't you worry. Stuff like 'The Nomads' will be explored in the future in-case you're wondering. If you feel like you're missing something from this article, I purposely wrote it with the intention of being analysed, as there are many hidden themes that I wanted people to pick out. This isn't just a golf course level, trust me. This was actually my first ever level I came up with, but it sucked when I made it a month ago so here is the rewritten version with actual narrative and emotions.
2nd ever post on here! Check out Level 0.5!
Posted with new coldpost rules.
CHAPTER I
SURVIVAL CLASS
0
Resources: 0/5
Food is Plentiful
Exit: 5/5
Dead End
Environment: 0/5
No Environmental Risks
Entities: 0/5
No Hostile Entities
Something rots beneath us.
A disease without a cure. A beast without a bone. An evil without a hero. An unquellable curse.
My time here has opened my eyes to what this place truly is. Behind all the charade and charisma is something that wants to stick its greedy little fingers in your chest and pry your heart from your ribs. The fancy ol' club, the luxurious course, the fucking grass and sun— it's all here to groom you. That's what they all do: they offer all this free shit to rope you in— to convince you. It’s far bigger than just this place. Maybe The Backrooms isn't such a force of nature after all; maybe it exists to teach me a lesson, to teach us a lesson.
I opened my eyes to the blaring sunlight and sat up to gaze upon it. A golf course was laid out around me, spread in all directions. I was relieved to say the least— I was being chased by a horde of filthy hounds on Level 9 when a sheet of paper drifted through the wind and landed on my face. Then I was here: Level 61 - "The Backrooms Country Club".
I was in a level of good vibes, calm winds, and the lovely smell of fresh-cut grass. The warm sunlight poured over my skin, and it was delightful after not having seen it for days. It was only then I realised what that piece of paper said on Level 9.
The Backrooms Country Club!
The Calm Before the Storm
Fancy a holiday?
Want to be relieved of that typical Backrooms stress?
Well, The Backrooms Country Club is just for you!
Featuring a prestigious club and a grand golf course to get lost in!
Free drinks! Free food! Free entry! Free stay!
Everything is FREE, FREE, FREE!
For minor additional cost, become a member with us!
Enjoy cracker benefits like:
A private Members-Only Course—open after-dark!
A comfortable resting place!
A private security service!
Consider becoming a member with us today, at The Backrooms Country Club: The Calm Before the Storm.
So that was how I got here. I thought1. The poster was what I needed at the time, a well-needed break. I had been with the M.E.G. for a few years at this point. I had assisted in the discovery of hundreds of levels and the rescue of another hundred wanderers. But even with all the good I had achieved and the praise I was showered in, I was burnt out. Those previous months, I didn't have an ounce of will or pride within myself; it was like I was a shell and the mollusc moved out. Anyway, to end this stupid monologue of exposition, I was glad I was here… at first.
This place came at just the right time. I thought. I turned around to see the country club. It towered over me like a human to an ant, adorned with fancy gold decorations and sparkly windows, which are surprisingly rare to come by in The Backrooms. I was done being inside all the time; I could never get enough of outside levels2, so I turned back around and walked down the stairs to the course. I took my shoes off and let my feet nestle into the soft blades of grass, earthing for the first time in ages. I picked up a bag of golf clubs and a bucket of golf balls and set out to the course (Don't worry, I didn't leave my shoes behind). I spent hours just hitting balls and chasing after them— I didn't care how shit I was doing or how many balls I lost; I just kept playing without a care in the world. Come to think of it, this was one of the last happy memories I had before everything changed.
Kiosks began popping up at the start of every hole, colourful and playing annoying, ear-splitting music. Whenever I looked at it, the screen lit up with bubbly letters: 'Become a Member?' I didn't know what 'becoming a member' meant, but it was only a matter of time before I caved and pressed the little 'yes' box beneath the question.
Eventually the marketing got more aggressive, speakers played from trees and shouted out all the 'benefits' of becoming a member.
'MEMBERS-ONLY COURSE
A COMFORTABLE RESTING PLACE
24 HOUR SECURITY.'
I was starting to get curious about this membership. In the Frontrooms, I had a membership with my local golf club; it gave me cheaper entry and discounts for food and drink in the restaurant. I wondered if it would be similar? Maybe there were other golf courses in The Backrooms?3
Looking back, I don't know why I didn't suspect something before. The ominousness of the level (which I only seemed to notice after I found out what it was) consumes every supposed benefit it has. The atmosphere is almost choking; I have no faith in myself to judge the vibe of anything anymore; my intuition must fucking suck. I thought: Damn this place is super nice, I'm gonna become a member. So, I stupidly walk over to the stupidly colourful kiosk and almost stupidly press the stupid 'yes' illuminated on the STUPID screen. 'Don't click it, mate,' I hear a voice blow through the gentle breeze. 'It doesn't end well for anyone,' he adds. I turn around to see who-I-now-know: is Pete, the leader of The Settled. He was an old guy, skinny with fluffy greying hair.
'Well, what does it do?'
That's when he told me. This place isn't a holiday, or a hobby, or a new home. Well, it is a new home, but if I had to give it a label: it's a prison. There's no exit, one that even counts as one anyway… it only provides that little hope to all who come through; it preys on it. Becoming a member sends you somewhere— somewhere nobody has ever escaped. They call it the Members-Only Course4, even though nobody actually knows what it is. They say they've seen people noclip through the ground after pressing the button and never seen again. Their radios go silent straight away, nothing but rough static of them trying to speak but their voice not coming through. The inhabitants of this place don't know if it goes to another level, a sub-level, or even just right into the fucking Blue Channel.
I can tell you: it left a bad taste in my mouth.
I dropped to my knees; how do you react to something like that around people you don't know? So, I'm stuck here forever? Great I feel completely fine about that reality. It's not like I can't ever leave this stupid golf course ever again or see any of my friends ever again. I was silent for hours, because if I spoke one word, my voice would have broken, and I would have bawled my eyes out in front of these people I don't know.
He took me to a hand-crafted small town of wood from cut-down trees, built right next to an abnormally large water hazard. He showed me around the town, which was basically just 2 blocks of log cabins with a few stores that sold hand-sewn clothes and other general items. There was even a church.
Quite a friendly community really; they were dropping some lore of this place, which was pretty cool. They were one of three major communities: The Settled (Them), The Nomads, and The Course's Eye.
The Nomads were a group of wanderers who were quite the opposite of The Settled. Whereas The Settled accepted that there was no way (that was worth it) to leave. And they began a new life… The Nomads could not. They dedicated themselves to finding anything, anything that could be a way out or point to one. They investigated all phenomena with excruciating detail and overthought anything slightly out of the ordinary that happened. Pete told me they set out to the far reaches of the level, trekking to see if they could even find a border or an end to the place. That was a few years ago5.
The Course Eye believed they were chosen by the level, and follow their own religion—6 devoted to the trees themselves. They haven't been too much of a problem for The Settled or other minor communities… lately. Apparently in the early stages of The Eye's formation, they kidnapped a bunch of members of the smaller communities and 'sacrificed' them by forcing them to become members.
They gave me a cabin all to myself because they figured I needed some space; I was too out of it to tell them I didn't want to be. I didn't get any sleep— it wasn't the fact that I couldn't leave anymore; it was what was underneath my feet that disturbed me. There's something beneath us, a monstrosity that disposes of people, consumes them; and they all pretend it's fine. Well, it's not fine, because even though we're safe here, we are still in the monster's jaws, we are being chewed on.
The next few months were miserable. They hand out jobs each day.
- Collect more wood.
- Filter water.
- Chase away the maintenance entities.
- Intercept wanderers before they become members7.
The last one is what I usually did, or I liked doing. It brought me back to when I was in the M.E.G., and I rescued wanderers from dangerous levels and whatnot. It was easy— 1. Go up to anyone you see. 2. Ask if they are new. 3. If not, move on. If so, break the news to them bluntly and explain their choice. It was raw seeing myself in every single one of them; we all had the same reaction. 4. Almost everyone chooses to stay, so I take them back to the village and explain the living situation.
A lot of the time they disappear in the middle of the night only to never return. It's fine, I guess; it's their choice. We would never know if they made it out or not. The only reason we really know it doesn't lead anywhere good is that nobody ever comes back for us. There have been countless M.E.G. personnel like me who ventured into the unknown and never came back. It could also lead somewhere inescapable; we don't know. Surely anyone who would make it out of wherever this leads would tell the M.E.G. about this, plan a rescue for us? I never heard about this place before I came here, so it's likely nobody has ever survived whatever is down there. But perhaps I may?
Adapting to my new life here was weird. Everything about this place is weird. There are maintenance entities that everyone here calls 'Caddies' and 'Greenskeepers'. If you're playing golf, Caddies will sometimes carry your clubs for you, but you have to be careful because they're pickpockets. I still remember my first encounter with them; my fellow community members didn't tell me they're little thieves. It stuck its bony fingers in my pockets and flew away with my lighter. They all watched it happen, and they were hunched over laughing at me. Greenskeepers are pretty cool actually; any hole they walk on, the grass is instantly trimmed short and the clippings disappear. There are also snowy places that The Settled call seasonal havens. Apparently, they change, well… seasonally. But I haven't been here long enough to see it. They're small and can probably be walked through in 10 minutes or so. They tell me not to go there because the weather can change to drop hail or blow strong cold winds, but I haven't seen it yet. Everywhere else, like other levels, things always have a purpose. This one just spits out a bunch of random bullshit the further you look into it. Like why does any of this exist? I can see why greenskeepers are there… but the caddies? And seasonal havens? And sub-holes?8 This is all just designed for me to never be able to fit in here, and I can't take it anymore.
The other members of The Settled always told me that there would come a day when I can't get to a new wanderer before they click 'yes', and I'll have to see them plummet to their death. I never truly understood the weight of their words until today. I squinted my eyes through a cluster of trees and saw a little girl. She wasn't accompanied by any adults or anything; she was just by herself… by herself walking up to the kiosk. It's funny. Well, it's not funny at all really, but I never actually drew the conclusion as to how appealing to children the kiosks look. Colourful and all big, bubbly writing, once you click yes— that's it, you fall down there; there's no: 'are you sure?' or a message asking for ID or credit card info. That's it, you're roped in forever. I ran, I shouted, I screamed for that little girl. But I wasn't quick enough; she didn't hear me. She tapped that big button and the ground's solid structure dissolved, then she fell through it like dropping a pin.
I can't do this anymore. I can't just live the rest of my life here watching people just vanish before my eyes and knowing nothing good happened to them. I'm going to go down there, I'm going to find the exit, I'm going to save everyone here. I will come back with the M.E.G. and set up hundreds of outposts around the level to ensure nobody goes down there alone. Then I will guide them all through whatever purgatory lies down there and lead them back home.
There’s a rot beneath us.
One obvious, but everyone seems to accept.
Festering.
Spreading.
Infecting.
The story found that Oakley wrote and left on their empty bed before disappearing.