Springvley, 49th Autumn 227
Sister,
I followed your advice, and invited Clouds to dinner at my home. Oh, how I wish I hadn’t.
I thought about what you said, and determined you were right: either the apartment really had something wrong about it, and I wouldn’t feel alone in experiencing it anymore; or it was perfectly normal, and having someone passing by would help me adapting to it.
In any case, I paid Clouds a visit on the 44th; I had some matter to discuss with them anyway, I figured it was the right moment. I brought a small bouquet of wildflowers that grow outside the city walls, the ones I know they like, and invited them over the 45th after work. I’d bake something nice, I promised.
Of course, Clouds was delighted by the invitation. I think they had been waiting for me to make some move for a while now. Still, I was extremely anxious about that evening.
The following day, as the meat pie was slowly baking, Clouds rang at the door. Right on time, just as expected from the town’s most punctual administrative. Freeing my friend from their raincoat, they took a look at the furniture. They were fairly impressed: To be honest, so was I. While everything was a bit dusty and worked on – expected since I had been cooking – the furniture seemed brighter, better than I had ever seen them.
“My my my, the Housing Agency has standards!” they said. Evidently, Clouds asked, no, demanded, a tour of the grounds. To which I evidently obliged, falsely reassured that the apartment had decided to show itself in its best side.
In truth, the visit did leave Clouds slightly confused, though not about the building as I would have thought. My new and dear friend was rather puzzled as to why I had never let them in before. They positively loved the place. By the spirits, they even liked these odd architectural details such as the small triangular-shaped office cabinet, or the small corridor that doesn’t lead anywhere. I on the other hand, am almost certain I saw some engravings blur themselves or shift from one shape to the other while we were visiting. Hell, I am not even sure how some of the rooms fit the outside structure of the building. Still, Clouds did not seem to mind, and simply appreciated the whole visit. They might have been more focused on me than the house, and probably did not notice much of it.
All in all, this was quite the relief. I felt my stress quickly wither away, and the dinner, was, well… Fantastic. Things went very well, and to be honest we fully lost track of time, lost into each other and in the depths of deep yet nonsensical conversations.
Alas, the horror started to unfold after the dinner. As I was preparing some infusion, Clouds said they went to the washroom, to freshen up. I did not quite pay attention to them, until I heard them say “wait, you didn’t show me this door, did you? Where does it lead to, a garden?
Just in a moment, something shifted in my guts. I have no door leading toward any garden of sort. I’m not even supposed to, by the spirits: I live on the second floor, under the roofs.
I rushed after Clouds, only to find them closing a door I had never even seen before. I opened right after them, just to find myself alone, in a dark corridor.
Things are already getting blurred; it is hard to remember the place. The corridor looked just like the hallway at the entrance of the apartment. It was perhaps slightly darker. Darker and longer, much, longer than this house had any right to be. Clouds was nowhere in sight, but I noticed a turn in the hallway, and rushed in the hope they had just walked there. Of course, they had not. In fact, as soon as I reached the corner, I found myself starring at a dead end. I turned back, only to find the hallway from whence I came was now a fork giving way to four or five new corridors.
I do not know how long I walked there. I do not even know when exactly I stopped looking for Clouds and fully focused on looking for an exit. I was walking in series upon series of dark rooms, with blur and indistinct features. Sometimes, a poor attempt at furniture filled the room, though it mostly seemed unconvincing and somehow fused to the featureless walls.
Eventually, I found a way out. Well, found is not quite the right word. I stumbled upon yet another door, opened it and found myself right outside the building, in the early morning light.
In a haze, I decided to go to work. Blair found me here a few rotations later. The sight of my pale, horrible face must have scared him, because his initial mask of surprised anger quickly gave way to a look of concern. Apparently, I had been missing from work for three whole days.
Blair accepted my “I was ill” excuse without an issue. He did ask me to warn them in the future.
Something sticks with me. As I asked Blair about Clouds, whether they had been to work lately, he frowned, like he did not quite get what I was talking about. He stared at me blankly for a moment, and changed subject.
I am tired, confused, yet mostly scared. I still do not understand what happened, nor what to do with that.
Plume
