You stand in a violently blue room. The shade is so vivid, it stings.
Before you sits an [[impossibly flat table]] and, on the wall opposite you, a [[slightly fuzzy, pink door]].
Flat and made of a white ceramic, the table hurts your eyes. It contrasts with the intense blue walls and floors like it's trying to crowd out the primary color. Why is it <i>so</i> flat? Was it designed by the [[government]] for space travel?
The legs, however, are not smooth at all, but riddled with differently sized [[bumps]], not unlike chicken pox.
Something about the door seems off. Is it because it radiates strange heat? Or maybe because the entire thing seems covered in peach fuzz.
[[nevermind...|the violently blue room]]
You notice one bump has a slight seam around it. This must be a [[switch]].
For some reason, you cannot help but pet the velvety surface. Did the door just purr? Perhaps you shouldn't do that.
[[nevermind...|the violently blue room]]
Despite your common sense, you pet the door again. It seems to rumble in response and a ripple spreads across its surface. It reminds you of something, though you can't just what. You really shouldn't do that.
[[pet yet again]]
[[nevermind...|the violently blue room]]
You pet the door yet again. The rumble and ripple return, more intense than before. The movement, you realize, reminds you of flexing muscles. This is a terrible idea. You really ought to stop.
[[tempt fate|get eaten by door]]
[[nevermind...|the violently blue room]]
The pink door opens a giant, toothy maw that you swear wasn't there before and eats you.
I told you it was a terrible idea.
Let's try again, shall we?
[[I suppose you did warn me...|the violently blue room]]
The table whines and when you straighten to examine the surface, you notice a small recess has opened, revealing a white, fuzzy object.
It is either key to escaping this room, or a [[stuffed bunny]]. Either way, you [[pick it up]].
How they managed to make a key that looks like a flattened bunny is anyone's guess. Wait, is it blinking at you?
You pick up the weird thing. It is warm to the touch, but before you can shove it in your pocket, it wriggles and falls to the floor.
A large tongue slithers out from under the pink door. It probes around, as if search for something. You prepare to move away, which only attracts its attention. Is it looking for food? Do doors need food?
The bunny sits at your feet, staring up at you with [[beady, smug eyes]]. How to get the bait to the tongue without endangering yourself...
[[pick it up again and throw it]]
The bunny... or the tongue?
[[the bunny, of course]]
[[wait, I can kick the tongue?]]
You kick the key towards the tongue. It slurps the bunny up--who squawks in indignation--smacks invisible lips and vanishes from whence it came. The door grumbles like an overfed cat and swings open.
[[onward!|to the alarmingly red room]]
Nope, just kidding.
You reach down to pick up the key, ready to pitch it towards the tongue and cower behind the table, but you are nowhere near fast enough. The tongue wraps around you like a wet boa constrictor and draws you into a previously invisible, toothy maw.
Instead of being crunched to bits, you stumble and open your eyes. A dream? A vision of the future?
[[who knows!|pick it up]]
This room is alarmingly red. Thankfully, that red is more of a "fire engine color" and less of a "blood color". At least, this is what you tell yourself.
Opposite you is a [[citrus orange door]] and in the center of the room is a [[floating ball]]. The pink door has closed quietly behind you and seems to be gurgling contentedly.
You opt to [[look around the rest of the room]], if only because the room's centerpiece and its perfect roundness make you uncomfortable.
The texture of the door is, perhaps unsurprisingly, that of a fresh orange.
[[nevermind...|to the alarmingly red room]]
The architect here seems to have an alarming fixation with citrus, because this room is the color of lemonade sold by children in the middle of high summer. It even smells ever so slightly of sugared lemon.
A [[pyramid]] sits in the center of the room. You're starting to see a trend here. More than one, actually.
Based on the last two rooms, you need to [[start looking for a key]] to the [[traitorously green door]] opposite you. Just like the pink, the orange door swung shut during your distraction. Sir Bunny is lounging in the corner.
This door is a mossy green, less vivid than any other color thus far. Unless you've forgotten your primary school color lessons, this door leads back to the blue room, which is not a good thing at all.
[[oh dear...|lemon drop yellow room]]
As with the bunny, you're not sure where the actual "key" part of this key is. It looks more like a egg-shaped fruit and smells of fresh-pressed orange juice.
Sir Bunny has lost interest in you and is shuffling around near the orange door. There don't seem to be any tongues, teeth, or maws hiding in it, so it seems worth trying to [[open it yourself]].
The shape (a silhouette of a christmas tree) and the color (bright green) seem at odds with the muted shade of the green door (that it presumably unlocks).
The texture is rough, carved to resemble a mass of pine needles.
They do so like making things exact and flawless when exact flawlessness isn't needed, don't they?
[[nevermind...|impossibly flat table]]
Did it have open eyes before? You suddenly can't recall.
[[nevermind...|pick it up]]
Whereas the table was impossibly flat, this sphere is impossibly round and endlessly black, like a magic ball in a fantasy story. And, unlike the table, you see no obvious switches.
[[nevermind...|to the alarmingly red room]]
In the corner opposite and to the left of the orange door, you notice a series of scratches on the wall. They look similar to the sort of thing prisoners scratch on walls to mark the days, except they're arranged to spell the word "[[help|help wall scratches]]." How disconcerting.
Regardless, now is not the time to contemplate the nature of past inhabitants. Those scratches were made by a tool of some kind. So where is it now? You need to [[look around even more]].
Who made these? An unfortunate soul who never figured out the puzzle? Or your future self?
The marks seem scratched into the red paint by a knife of some kind, judging by the smooth slashes that reveal a mossy shade of green below.
Once upon a time, perhaps the doors were primary colors and the rooms mixed. Not that it matters now.
[[nevermind...|look around the rest of the room]]
As you turn around, the sphere hisses and something drops out of the bottom, clattering onto the floor. A small blade. The only way to pick it up is to first shove it out from under there with something or lay down flat and reach under with your hands.
[[keep looking for a tool]].
[[get down on the ground and fish it out]]. Surely nothing will go wrong.
A squeak draws your attention back to the pink door. A bulge under the velvet skin wriggles and thrashes. A small trickle of very real, pearlescent liquid oozes from a wound torn by yellowed teeth. The bunny key is escaping from the [[door's innards]], it seems!
You [[watch in horror]].
As you bend down, then flatten your body against the cool, red tiled floor, the ball rumbles. The closer you inch your body and hand towards the knife, the louder it groans.
[[tempt fate|get squashed by ball]]
[[wriggle away|look around even more]]
With a wet squelch, the bunny rips free and falls to the floor, covered in bits of flesh. It shudders and the bits fly off, barely missing your feet. At some point during its exit--or perhaps digestion--it turned into a real bunny, floppy ears and all.
It hops to the edge of the sphere's harsh shadow. You kneel down and whisper "hey buddy, [[feel like helping me]]?" Though you have not a clue in the world how it would help you, other than into an early grave.
Some bunnies, after all, are the [[vengeful sort]].
You are back in blue room and your heart sinks into the tips of your toes. The table is reset and the pink door is closed, and somehow you know it's also locked.
As you draw in a deep breath, the green door slams shut. If you were to turn around, you'd see the green door was gone, swallowed by the blue walls. Sir Bunny is gone.
The path is clear, you suppose. Time to [[start all over again|the violently blue room]].
Or you could end this cycle of madness by closing this browser tab.
Or by walking away and never coming back.
I'm not the boss of you.
Yet, to your surprise, the bunny hops closer and seems to nod, it's long, white ears flopping forward, then back.
He, for he looks like a noble gentleman to you, waddles forward, under sphere. It remains silent and motionless; Sir Bunny is either too small or too important for crushing.
With a quiet <i>chink</i>, he closes deadly teeth around the key and drags it out and to your feet. The [[orange key]] lays on the ground, unaware of all the trouble it's caused.
The ball drops, as if all the gravity that it previously ignored hits all at once. You don't feel much pain before the thing crushes your head and torso into a pulp.
Turns out the shade of red <i>is</i> bloody after all.
[[somehow I knew that would happen|look around even more]]
You take a moment to ponder the nature of the pink door. Clearly it's more than just a slab of wood or stone, being that it ate the bunny key. And perhaps other things.
Judging by the hole currently torn into it's flesh, you suspect the door is larger on the inside than the outside. You wonder if it smells worse on the inside too?
[[I see what you did there...|keep looking for a tool]]
The puzzle pyramid's surface is neither rough nor smooth, in keeping with its neither black nor white coloring. But, as you circle it, you discover one side is filled with little tube-shaped holes and in each hole is an equally little scroll.
[[middle left scroll]]
[[middle right scroll]]
<i>There is something wrong here. Other than the obvious. I leave this scroll behind in the hopes that someone after me will find it useful. Because there <b>will</b> be those after me, I know it. They <b>love</b> their tricks, after all.
The doors, as you already know, are not simple doors. I do not yet know what the green one does, though the orange one seemed peaceful. If you see that white hare again, I suggest you cherish it. Mine... well, he didn't make it.</i>
The elegant cursive letters end in a flourish of a signature you can't decipher. You can't help but feel a little bad for the author. Poor Sir Bunny.
[[I'm sure it was an accident...|start looking for a key]]
<i>To understand gravity, one must first fall and scrape one's knee.
There is no shame in eating the entire frozen yogurt cup.
Treat others with kindness and respect, so they may do the same to you.
One can only be in the moment: breathe in and out, feel the air move around you, and always wear clean underwear.
50% of all statistics are a lie.</i>
The note is written in all capitol letters with a thin ink pen.
[[that was slightly questionable advice...|start looking for a key]]
As you unroll the scroll, the [[green key]] falls out.
You could take the time to [[read the scroll]], or just [[ignore it and open the green door]].
<i>I won't play their games! I've been here for over thirteen days, as far as I can tell. Left the scratches in the other room. Got tired of the red. This place isn't much better though. But I won't play their games. Oh, I already said that. Where did that rabbit go? This place gets to you. It sucks up your insides and spits them out, all human shaped but not human anymore. I wonder if my family regrets-- No, best not to think about <b>that</b>. Miss that rabbit chap. Did I already say that? He hasn't come around yet. Wonder why. Just realized I haven't had to eat, piss, or shit since I got here. Maybe I've only slept because there was nothing else to do. I don't feel tired. Never felt tired. I wonder if I had a family...Maybe the next room will be different...Wonder what the shapes mean...Damn those bastards...Damn my fa--"</i>
The jagged letters trail off in a squiggle.
In the margins, in ink that shimmers and sparkles like a night sky, the words <i>the funniest part is by refusing to play, he <b>is</b> playing! Isn't it marvelous!</i>
[[well, that was far too deep for my tastes...|start looking for a key]]
<i>Deep in the night
when all was lost
We fought against it
but in the end
They got what they wanted
Well, most of us, anyway.</i>
The poem ends here, the simple, child-like hand writing juxtaposing the emotional content.
[[ooh, a 50 cent word...|start looking for a key]]
<i>I've found it! Eureka! This key is the solution to <b>all my problems</b>. Once I get out of here, I'm never coming back again. Not that I remember why I was here in the first place.
I never noticed until now but... that blue room only had one door, and it leads to the red room. So, where did I come in from?
And why didn't I think of that before?</i>
The author's cramped hand ends the last sentence is a vicious slash of splattered ink.
[[wish <i>I'd</i> found a pen and paper...|ignore it and open the green door]]
Letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, you drop the scroll on the ground without a second thought--how disrespectful!--and lunge towards the door.
As you near it, you hesitate. What if this <i>does</i> lead back to the blue room? Is it better to stay here and never know for sure, or press onward and face bitter reality?
[[slump down onto the floor and sulk]]
You sit around for an unknown amount of time. Sir Bunny hops up next to you as you lean against the green door and together you breath deeply in and out, meditating on shapes, colors, and keys.
Or, at least you think that's what he's doing. You're just sitting around playing tick tack toe with yourself, but it sounds much fancier to pretend you think about that kind of existential bullshit.
Now you're very, <i>very</i> bored.
[[but I'm not...]]
You proffer the key. Bark-covered vines snake out from the hinges of the door and grasp at it. Feeling like an old pro by now, you dangle the tree key once out of spite, then drop it into the snatching, flailing limbs.
Without any further ceremony, they twist around the key and crunches it. Sir Bunny--you forgot he was there, I suppose--jumps at the high pitched crack of breaking sticks.
You decide to [[back up a little]] as the door grows more frantic.
Vicious thorns grow from the vines as they undulate and pulse, dripping sap over everything, turning the key into a sticky mass of sawdust. The thorns grow alarmingly long, and you step back even more.
After a few moments of pointless grinding, the vines give up and drop the quarter-sized mound on the floor with a wet splat.
The door swings open. The blue room lays beyond. [[You step through|end]]
Once, when you were very young, you used to sneak into your neighbor's garden and watch a hutch crammed full of stunted rabbits. You never found out why he kept so many of them in such a small face, and never bothered to ask.
One day, when he came home wasted and angry, he kicked the cage while screaming about stupid rules and dictators and revolution. (How kicking innocent animals related to revolution, only he knew.)
The next day, you found several of the baby bunnies dead from the repeated bludgeoning. So, you opened the hutch door and let them escape.
That night, another neighbor found the house in shambles and man dead, shredded into bits by animal teeth. The bunnies were never seen again.
[[that was awfully dark...|watch in horror]]
Yes, you are.
It's time to face that hard truth I mentioned.
The Curious Case of the Colored Rooms
Trigger warning: vivid description of colors, non-sequitur violence against inanimate objects, mild language, tongues, excessive use of adverbs.
God, my head... [[where am I?|the violently blue room]]
The pyramid is grey, like an overcast day so ambivalent it threatens to undo the sky. Grey like dirty dishwater left in the sink over the weekend. Grey like an equal measure of black and white mixed together. That kind of grey.
[[nevermind...|lemon drop yellow room]]
As you step up to it, the key hums then begins to bleed orange juice, dripping onto the floor and making a ruddy stain. But the citrus orange door swings open, revealing new room beyond. Before you continue, you glance back and hold the door open so that Sir Bunny may go first, if he chooses. Nobly, he hops through and you follow, into the [[lemon drop yellow room]].