1. The room
It was a simple room, a white room. No windows, no door, not one piece of furniture in sight, just four white walls. Though it was a simple room, it was equally a complicated one, but my curiosity was not aimed at the room, it was aimed at the possibilities of me finding my way in the room. I don't remember ever entering the room, nor do I remember leaving mine. So, as I stand in the middle of this complicatedly simple room, I realized, I don't really remember much of anything before the room. I remember a name, Creston, and I remember stairs, a lot of stairs, and chains.
I don't know whom the name belongs to, or where the stairs lead, or why I was chained, I don't even remember ever remembering, just knowing these bits and pieces of my life, or a part of it. There was something though, strange about the room, and it was not the nothingness that was present, it was the fact that I wasn't quite sure whether or not there were walls, or just a empty whiteness. I acquired this thought, this possibility, when I took a step, and I was met with an echo, a voice, telling me not to move. This voice sounded distant, so I wasn't sure how the person it belonged to saw me move. The horrifying thing was, if this was a room, where was the person speaking?