The Backrooms: A Fading Memory

Orange is my least favorite color.

Since I was a child, I distinctly remember removing the carrot-color from my crayon collection, tossing it in the waste basket near by.  Despite the fact I never liked the color, I still managed to see it nearly every day.  The front door to my father's house, the traffic cones out side of my school, the pill bottle that awaits me by the sink.  The list goes on.

Until today, Orange was my least favorite color, but not anymore.  Now it's fucking Manila.  

Luckily, I don't have time to see the walls since I'm to busy running for my life.  I haven't turned around to see the thing chasing me, as I can't afford to slow down.  The thing is, I don't have much stamina, but I do have speed.

I figure if I take sharp enough turns (the right-left-straight rule was out the window by this point) then I can at least hide to catch my breath.  Even if it's only for a second.

I don't know how long I've been running before I here it fall slightly behind.  I take a sharp left turn an duck behind a wall.

I can't run forever, I know that much.  I can't fight and I can't hide, but I'll be damned if I go out like this.  Of all the times I was supposed to die, all the times they said I would, being killed by a shape-shifting was never on that list.  I've pictured myself in coffins many times, but never a mangled body bleeding into the wallpaper of these God-awful walls.  The walls that will remain Manila, save bits of my brains plastered against them.  At least that will put some color into this place.

Color.  Something sparks.

I reach into my pockets (thankfully dry now, though I was sure I'd pissed myself) and pulled out an orange.  I know I've hated it for so long, but it might be my only option.  At least I'll die fighting.  

I didn't have to guess where the monster was, as I could hear it dragging its feet. It calls out to me once again, attempting to mimic a humans (and failing miserably).

I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing, but currently it's the best option I have.  It's also the only option I have.

I wait a moment longer (a moment that feels like a century) until I feel it's close enough.  By how loud it's breathing is, I can guess it's right behind the wall.

And without a second thought, I throw the orange.  

Before I can even think about what I've just done, a gray Blur shoots passed me, letting out an inhuman yell as it chased the orange.

I didn't waste time seeing what happens as I took off just as fast in the opposite direction.  I didn't have much time to do anything else so all I could hope was that is bought me time.

After awhile I lost track of where I was running but I knew I needed to stop or I'd surely pass out.  Unfortunately, I was running to fast to slow down and smacked straight into a wall.  

After I collected myself and leaned against the wall, I noticed a tear in the wallpaper.  A tear done by fingernails.  My fingernails.

"DAMMIT" Was I really going in a circle this whole time?

"AHUHHHHHUEGG"  A Howl tore the silence behind me

Oh you've got to be shitting me.  And with half a breath I was running again.  This time I didn't need to see the monster, for I knew it was close and getting closer.

I knew I couldn't run anymore; my lungs were on fire and my rib cage cracking.  I almost swore I could feel it's breath on my neck as I tripped over my own feet, the Manila flashing before my eyes.

As I felt my face it the floor, it didn't feel as soft as I thought.  It felt hard like concrete.  As I waited for certain death to come I realized that carpet usually doesn't feel like concrete. After a moment I sat up and realized why it didn't feel soft.  

Because it wasn't carpet.  It was the floor of a warehouse.  A very big warehouse.  There was no sign of humanity but no signs of monsters, either.

I stood up, my pants wet again but not from piss or the carpet, but because I had fallen in a puddle.

I look back behind me to see a dark gray wall; no more Manila.  No where to go but foreward.

So that's just what I did.