The Otherside of Reality

If you slip in the wrong place, if you fall just a little too far through the cracks of the world, you’ll wake up in the Backrooms. An endless labyrinth of damp, stained carpet. Walls painted in the sickly glow of monotone yellow. Fluorescent lights hum and buzz above, never flickering, never dying, their droning song gnawing at your sanity. The halls stretch on without reason. Millions of miles of rooms, partitions, and dead ends that twist back into themselves, as if designed to trap you. You are not alone here. If you hear footsteps that aren’t your own, pray they don’t get closer. Because if something’s wandering these halls… it has already heard you. /_Place_398_/ /_Nickname_Backrooma_/