Day 414

The house you woke up in was enormous.
You had yet to see who or what lived there and you were glad.
As tall as you were you had to prop box upon box to even reach the tops of the tables
that were strewn carelessly throughout the labyrinthine hallways and rooms.
Well, they might have been rooms, the whole place looked like a hoarder's wet dream.

Boxes of cloth and damp cardboard were mostly stacked, some looked to have been
tipped over or thrown against a wall where they hung from the protruding panels.
Somehow you always managed to find food nearby whenever you felt near faint.
Water too, in small glasses and large bowls to bathe in.
You tried not to wonder if you were being watched or followed by the house's owner.

You'd set up a main camp in a cupboard that was mostly hidden underneath an enormous
dining room table that could have seated a human sized army.
The thick white cloth that had been draped over it was hard to move and stained brown
in places, the stains almost formed human sized splatters that you tried desperately to ignore.
You'd managed to use the damp cardboard and thick cloth scraps to make a mattress at least.

It wasn't comfortable but it was better and safer than the mismatching floorboards.
From time to time you heard loud groaning and roaring in the distance, the owner perhaps.
You'd never seen the source of the noise nor wanted too, often it happened so close by that
you could practically smell the breath of the monstrous thing that cried out so loudly.
The occasional shadow passed by your table hideaway and you'd cower in your cupboard.

This almost became routine, wake and look for the usual glass or bowl or plate, cower, sleep.
It began to feel normal, like you'd always been here and knew the place well.
The labyrinth  made sense, you could navigate it in your sleep and climb every obstacle with ease.
But then it changed, everything changed - even the colours of your shoddy mattress changed!
It was like the house had been invaded by some kind of desert.

Everything took on paler tones, worn tones, sand piled high in corners, underneath the cracked
floorboards and the lower floors greatly reducing the house to a handful of rooms.
You felt glad that your hideaway was at least mostly the same and almost sand-less.
Even the thing that screeched from time to time changed, taking on a deeper and hoarser tone.
It was also closer, you could feel its breath huffing against the back of your neck.

The house was no longer the safe feeling almost-home you'd grown used to.
The creature was no longer this distant reminder of your situation, it was hunting you.
Each day ended with you being chased into a cupboard or under a stack of boxes as its great
thundering footsteps came hurtling past, shaking you to the core.
You fell asleep reminded of the brown humanish stains, wondering when you would join them.