Above ground there wasn't much left of the apartment building and even then only the first three floors were stable enough to walk on. The storms that had been sweeping the country with increasing frequency those past twelve years had reduced the upper floors to rubble and drenched concrete.
While abandonment had left the building with nothing inside but graffiti and trash from squatters who'd seen too much sense to stay, the basement was absolutely untouched despite the door being unlocked the entire time. The only touch it had ever known was when one brave teen decided to spray "Death Awaits" across the door in large, friendly letters and red, less friendly paint.
It worked in making people think the door was locked for a great many years until one drunk man in his late forties fell against it and, in his haste to upright himself, accidentally turned the knob and fell further still into the bowels of the basement. His landing was thankfully soft, though he soon realised he was slumped upon the remains of several rotting fur rugs that felt like something suspiciously rodentious was working its way out, having been woken up by his impact.
He scrambled to his feet and, still very much unsober, staggered towards where he thought the door was only to find that he'd managed to turn himself around a corner he'd not seen before, finding himself in some kind of lobby. The man at the desk looked worried to see him there, asking if he had a reservation.
His words slurred out as he tried to explain that he'd fallen down the stairs but the receptionist ignored his attempts as speech in favour of flicking through a large book for "available stations", as he called them. Finding something agreeable the receptionist began to drag the drunken man through a large metal door and down a series of confusingly twisted passages that seemed to warp and flex right before his eyes in ways that liquor couldn't possibly cause.
As he opened his mouth to warn the receptionist of his oncoming nausea he vomited down his front in several frothy bursts that stank of the beer and curry he'd downed less than an hour ago. This was ignored by the receptionist who pulled him to a door labelled "4036-B43" which was made of a much thicker metal then the original door and required five different keycodes to unlock, none of which were remembered by the drunken man as the receptionist rattled them off as quickly as he taped them in.
He was pushed inside a room that was dimly lit by the largest window he'd ever seen with a view he was barely able to comprehend in his current state. With a hurried "Enjoy your stay" the receptionist scurried out, locking the door behind him and leaving the inebriated man to gaze dumbfounded at a city the likes of which shouldn't technically be possible.
It seemed to go down into a dark purple vortex that spewed forth more rooms just like his that were carried by masses of writhing arms and eyes, roofless and sometimes entirely without walls, to perfectly shaped holes in new endless skyscrapers that were forming as fast as he blinked to clear the disbelief from his eyes.
With little else on his mind, an impossible view and the stench of his own vomit lingering around him, he slept.
While abandonment had left the building with nothing inside but graffiti and trash from squatters who'd seen too much sense to stay, the basement was absolutely untouched despite the door being unlocked the entire time. The only touch it had ever known was when one brave teen decided to spray "Death Awaits" across the door in large, friendly letters and red, less friendly paint.
It worked in making people think the door was locked for a great many years until one drunk man in his late forties fell against it and, in his haste to upright himself, accidentally turned the knob and fell further still into the bowels of the basement. His landing was thankfully soft, though he soon realised he was slumped upon the remains of several rotting fur rugs that felt like something suspiciously rodentious was working its way out, having been woken up by his impact.
He scrambled to his feet and, still very much unsober, staggered towards where he thought the door was only to find that he'd managed to turn himself around a corner he'd not seen before, finding himself in some kind of lobby. The man at the desk looked worried to see him there, asking if he had a reservation.
His words slurred out as he tried to explain that he'd fallen down the stairs but the receptionist ignored his attempts as speech in favour of flicking through a large book for "available stations", as he called them. Finding something agreeable the receptionist began to drag the drunken man through a large metal door and down a series of confusingly twisted passages that seemed to warp and flex right before his eyes in ways that liquor couldn't possibly cause.
As he opened his mouth to warn the receptionist of his oncoming nausea he vomited down his front in several frothy bursts that stank of the beer and curry he'd downed less than an hour ago. This was ignored by the receptionist who pulled him to a door labelled "4036-B43" which was made of a much thicker metal then the original door and required five different keycodes to unlock, none of which were remembered by the drunken man as the receptionist rattled them off as quickly as he taped them in.
He was pushed inside a room that was dimly lit by the largest window he'd ever seen with a view he was barely able to comprehend in his current state. With a hurried "Enjoy your stay" the receptionist scurried out, locking the door behind him and leaving the inebriated man to gaze dumbfounded at a city the likes of which shouldn't technically be possible.
It seemed to go down into a dark purple vortex that spewed forth more rooms just like his that were carried by masses of writhing arms and eyes, roofless and sometimes entirely without walls, to perfectly shaped holes in new endless skyscrapers that were forming as fast as he blinked to clear the disbelief from his eyes.
With little else on his mind, an impossible view and the stench of his own vomit lingering around him, he slept.
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