Hope.
Hope is that which binds the soul to existence. An overwhelming force that promises a warm embrace. A craving sensation that clutches the heart, and drags it down with it.
Hope is that which leaves us in the dust. To be blown by the wind and into nothing.
…
It was late in my schedule that day. I was off of work by then and had already eaten dinner. I had just gotten off of a ride. I remember it was hot then, hotter than it should’ve been. I’m not sure why. I remember the way vapour stuck to my skin and sweat crawled out my pores, the way air blew against the wisps of my hair. It was strange being back there. Surreal, almost. The accessories of new atop foundations of old. The shape of shops I think I once knew, covered in unrecognizable signs and colors. Everything seemed almost familiar, and yet a million things were off about every single one of them.
I didn’t have a lot of crowns that day. It was enough for a trip in and out of the region without having to use the damn subway, even if it was technically safer. It’s not that I don’t have money, I wasn’t thinking that far ahead if I’m being honest. Life’s been loud and weird. I just wanted to go there. I just miss her.
SCREDnet News
2005/12/28
Kimberly Evans Promoted to Research Manager
In an unsurprising turn of events, SCRED researcher Kimberly Evans has been promoted to a research manager for her brilliant and dedicated work on anomalous research. Evans has had a long list of proud achievements at the government institution, such as her important research on the nature of loci progression and her discoveries concerning the consistent air composition in O-00. Overall, she has made major contributions to both Slam City and humanity in the Backrooms as a whole, and with this new position, we at SCRED hope that she can further her prospering career and continue to help make the world around her a better and safer place.
It’d been a while since I’d last seen my sister. We weren’t estranged or anything like that, it was just a natural falling out after I moved to Sprawl. And then she became important and, well, busy. That was kind of the final nail in the coffin. Expected, I suppose. Maybe I should’ve made more of an effort to keep in contact. It’s not like I ever had anything better to do. I wasn’t exactly doing much with my life.
We were really close as kids, actually. I remember us having fun in the park together, getting our favourite snacks at market stalls. She used to play around and take apart the natural machinery built into walls and try to wriggle her way into the secrets of the Eye. I still have memories of her personal research ventures on phase points. I was there when she got the job at SCRED. She was always smart, and curious, and happy, more so than I had ever been. Happy no matter what this place threw at her. I don’t know if she kept being happy after I left.
My sister was always an optimistic kind of person, much unlike me. She spent a lot of time trying to make the city a better place. Talked a lot about how the Backrooms didn’t always have to be a horror show. Tried her best to show everyone that they didn’t have to be afraid. I wanted to believe that. And she was never afraid. I can only hope she never became afraid. I wish I could've been like her.
Slam City Today
2007/05/26
Serene Setting Discovered on Foundry Lava Lamps
An image of a red lava lamp.
Researchers at SCRED have recently obtained a set of lava lamps from the Foundry, the kind of object usually raffled off to the general populace. However, what they didn’t expect was that an inconspicuous new switch on the gadgets could trigger a unique setting. When activated, the lamps turn on as normal but also emit a strange field that seems to muffle any sound waves within a roughly 5 meter radius of the object. A research project is being conducted by SCRED — led by esteemed researcher Kimberly Evans — to fully uncover the secrets of this strange variant of lava lamps, a new addition to the recent string of anomalous Foundry productions.
The last time I visited her was some months after my departure. That was ages ago. We communicated some up until that point. Missed each other a lot. When we met up, we were so happy it was like we hadn’t seen each other in a million years. We went out to our favourite places as kids, met up with our old friends, gathered with family. It was strangely extravagant looking back at it now. Ironically, that enthusiasm slowly washed away as time actually went on. We kind of just moved on, I suppose.
She sent me an email a few weeks prior about some anomalous Foundry lava lamps. Said she was head researcher for it and was super excited to be able to study that kind of stuff. Looking back, it was kind of strange how anyone could be excited about the unpredictably abnormal creations of a parasitic megastructure, but that was my sister. Regardless, I said I was happy for her and that was that. That was our last conversation.
It was Monday, maybe, when I saw her on the news. I… wasn’t in a very good state of mind then and seeing that made me think about her again, made me remember. I sent her an email about my visit several days before I came. She didn’t respond. I assumed, in my ignorance, that there was a perfectly normal explanation. I don’t think she even saw it. I don’t know for how long she couldn’t see them.
The Central Tribune
2007/06/17
New Novelty Lava Lamps up for Raffle
In a wonderful turn of events, the Administrative Council has permitted a portion of the newly discovered and newly nicknamed “Ottava Lamps” to be distributed out to the general public. Deemed to be safe to use, these objects will be part of one of the city’s occasional raffles. Limited in supply, these special accessories have been tried and tested as wonderful help for those who have trouble getting a good day’s sleep or just need some peace and quiet. “My neighbours are insanely loud, so I just had to try it. It worked wonderfully,” says Anthony Garcia, a volunteer tester of the lamps. Multiple people have even claimed that it alleviates pain.
Just flick on the gold switch underneath the objects, and it’ll activate, and switch back to turn it off. Simple as. Don’t miss this month’s raffle for this exclusive Foundry trinket.
The apartment complex she stayed in frankly wasn’t the best for a woman of her position. I suppose it wasn’t terrible by any means, but it wasn’t much better than my own. Maybe I should’ve visited more often. It advertised itself as a lovely place with a welcoming community, but everyone could tell it was bullshit. Several people moved in and out at any given time, and from that angle, I suppose it seemed alive, but it didn’t really feel that way. The wallpaper was sad and slowly browning over, people mostly kept to themselves, and there was a solemn kind of attitude staining the air. It was a very dead kind of alive.
There was a receptionist desk on the first floor. Behind it, a middle-aged woman who looked like she could do nothing more than wait for her shift to end. I told her I was visiting and gave her the apartment number. She said I wasn’t allowed to go up without a pass, meaning my sister had to take me there herself. And so the woman called the apartment. My sister didn’t pick up. I tried to protest but ended up settling for a voice message and waiting. Receptionist said she was probably out somewhere.
I’m not sure I believed that, but regardless, I waited. And waited. And waited. Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours. At least it felt that way. She wasn’t calling back. It’s not as if I had anything better to do, but that place was filled with nothing but the vague mumbling of residents who barely felt like people. I got sick of it. I really wanted to see her — hell, I needed to. I went up to that receptionist again and demanded that she let me up there. I wasn’t going to spend more time sitting around. She refused, but I was adamant — really fucking adamant. I told her I was going to go up there and she could either allow me to do so or she could piss off. The one security guy in the entire lobby that night was too busy screwing around to notice me at first and I stormed off up the stairs regardless of how loudly the receptionist cried out to me. Fuck her.
I’d only been to my sister’s place a few times before. It was small but big enough to be comfortable for a single person. I remember when we first took a look at it and she had this big cheesy smile on her face while haphazardly planning out the interior design. I miss it. I miss a lot of things. When I got there, it was painfully obvious that something was wrong — a small pile of deliveries next to the front door, a flickering hall light, the air a little too quiet, a little too metallic. And the door, left slightly ajar, opened and unlocked. I was afraid a crime had taken place. How damn stupid was I to have bought the excuse that she was just ‘out’?
I almost wish it was a crime. I couldn’t hear myself in there. I don’t remember what I did or what I said, if I screamed out or cried, if I punched the ground or clawed at my face. It didn’t matter, no matter how much I wish it fucking did. I hated looking at it. I hate thinking about it. I almost called it ‘her’ but that would be insulting to her memory. Skin fused with metal, a massive nonsense amalgamation of machinery eating through her remains. It barely even looked like a human by that point — I could hardly even see her face for the last time. No one checked up on her, and that Foundry thing festered like a parasite in the meantime, idly on her desk. I didn’t know she was so lonely. I can’t believe how long I spent down there doing nothing. I think it looked at me, through whatever version of a consciousness it might’ve had. I think it wanted me.
ANNOUNCEMENT: The Slam City Administrative Council is pulling all ottava lamps distributed to the wider public due to several recent reports regarding unfortunate and previously unknown side effects. Anyone who possesses an ottava lamp is advised to turn it off and turn it over. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you for your time.
We spend a lot of time trying to make reality’s backend a second home for us. I know a lot of people say we’ve succeeded, conquered a land to which we’ve never belonged. I don’t believe that. Because at least on Earth, the nightmares stay nightmares.
