☺

[ataraxites]

Behind the door is a room. It’s large, nondescript, slate gray. If you walked corner to corner, it would measure about ten feet by ten; there doesn’t appear to be any ceiling--at least, there’s not enough light to tell how high the ceiling could be. The floor is unmarked, as are three of the four walls. On the fourth, directly opposite the door you entered from, is a message written in red paint: Under this, wrapped up in each other, are two human skeletons in perfectly intact Tranquility uniforms. Upon closer inspection, the bones appear to be cut and scored, and some appear to be broken—but there’s no dried blood evident. In front of them is a small pile of unwrapped food, tailored to your personal tastes, with another, smaller note painted next to it: why don’t you sit down and rest a while? sorry about the mess. best i could do on short notice. you’re welcome. :) The room is otherwise empty—and not nearly as dusty as it ought to be, considering how long these poor people must have been trapped in here. When you are finally able to leave the room, the corridors seem to have returned to normal, and you are unable to find your way back to the room. The memories of your time in the never-ending hallways—and especially inside the room itself—will remain vivid.