And It Will Go On Forever And Ever And Ever...

I opened my eyes.

(how long had they been closed?)

It was a hallway, white and grey, lockers lined the walls.

(where was I?)

It was cold, but not unpleasantly so. A slight breeze tousled my hair. I stood motionless, serene.

(what else was I to do?)

I thought I heard a voice. Definitely a noise. It echoed off the concrete walls. Fluorescent lights buzzed above.

There was the noise again. It was definitely a voice. I started walking down the hall.

There was a door at the end of the hall.

(was it there the whole time?)

I reached out my hand.

(I don’t think this door was here a moment ago…)

The knob was cold to the touch. It looked like it was stainless steel, but it indented when I grabbed it.

(this isn’t right. none of this is right.)

I turned it. It opened.

The room on the other side was small, about 15 x 15, lit only by a fire in the corner. I saw two figures crouching. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

No, only one figure was crouching, the other was laying on a rusty steel table, arms and legs strapped to the table’s legs. Eyes plucked from head, yet still crying, crimson tears. Disemboweled, intestines hanging haphazardly out of his body cavity, slowly falling to the ground, each sob quickening the process. 

The other figure had long stringy hair and was wearing rags. It had it’s back to me and was reaching into a bucket. It removed a fistful of paper, dripping with green sludge, and stuffed the wad into it’s victim’s gaping torso wound

“No, please…” the man on the table sobbed.

“But this is what you wanted,” the creature said in a raspy voice.

“Yes...but...please…,” the man said.

The creature grabbed another wad of paper, ichor dripping from it’s clawed hand and shoved it into the man’s open, pleading mouth. The man gagged. He started heaving, then vomited. With nowhere for it to go it came out of his nostrils, a mix of yellow, green and red. The sick splattered the crouching creature but it didn’t seem to mind. It just reached for another handful of wet paper.

I gagged.

The creature stopped, sat upright, and turned to look at me.

It’s eyes seemed sightless, milky white. A long nose curved toward cracked, black lips. The lips parted:

“You have to wait your turn. Be patient, I’m almost done with this one.”

What it clutched in it’s hand was was paper alright. Envelopes. They appeared to be paychecks.

I slammed the door shut. 

I was surprised I could still see the creature and it’s unfortunate victim through the door.

I took a step back.

What was once a white door with stainless steel hardware was now a rusted, corroded steel mesh sheet. Writhing flesh framed the door. It reached for me.

I ran.

The entire hallway had been transformed. Metal consuming flesh, flesh consuming metal. I ran, but was getting nowhere. The hallway expanded, stretching endlessly. 

Some of the sheet metal walls gave way to chainlink fencing. I could see I was not alone.

A man, nude except for a tie around his neck, bent over an upended filing cabinet being fisted by something that looked like a man, but with the head of a pig.

A woman suspended from the ceiling via meathooks through her breasts being whipped by another woman wearing only a gas mask and a leather skirt. The skin of her lower body hung in strips.

Fatigue set in. I stopped running. Fell to my knees. Dug my fingers into the floor that was now flesh, panted. Closed my eyes. I couldn’t run anymore, soon it would be my turn to be tortured to death.

That’s when I heard the voice from above me.

“...Uh...what’re you doing?”

I looked up.

It was a familiar face. I think his name was Brad. I didn’t work with him personally but I saw him around the halls at work. He always seemed like a bit of a dick.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I said as I stood up. “I thought I lost one of my contacts.”

He grunted in response, and walked past me, clutching a bag and drink emblazoned with the logo from the Gulp ‘n’ Blow fast food joint down the street.

I surveyed my surroundings.

White and grey. Cool Breeze. I was back in that hallway. The narrow hallway that lead from the parking lot to the elevators at work.