>>5133842https://youtu.be/_bIiXPPEm4AStill reeling from the spell earlier, the sudden flash of bright lights <span class="mu-i">stuns</span> you as the elevator doors open! Stumbling out of the lift, you rub your eyes as the fuzz around you slowly takes shape…
The foyer’s color is decidedly modern–pieced together with a blend of plants, masonry, and metal, whoever designed it was clearly aiming for some sort of ‘<span class="mu-i">controlled chaos</span>’ look, and totally NAILED IT.
Curtains of zig-zagging metal border the foyer–their snake-like forms dangling lazily like vines on a tree. On closer inspection, you see that they aren’t snakes at all, but <span class="mu-i">bones</span>--thousands of metal bones creating a macabre barrier between the entryway and further in! Dwarfing them all, however, is the massive <span class="mu-g">GOOD BOY MASCOT SCULPTURE</span> hanging over the lobby like a commercialized Sword of Damocles!
Before you or Blumenkrantz can take a step further, your nose picks up something else–something fishy, hot, and possibly slathered in butter.
“Well don’t spend all day at the door–come in!”
Jumping at the sudden voice, you barely recover from the shock before a section of the wall slides upwards and creates a passage leading inward!
“Remember what I said, Parble.” Blumenkrantz hisses as he backs into the elevator. Before you can stop him, the doors slam shut leaving you with only one path left.
Ahead.
You step lightly on the way over as if you were walking on a bubble… or extremely thin ice. Hearing your footsteps echo throughout the villa, you hear a faint series of coughs as you round the corner into… a <span class="mu-i">yard?!</span>
Well, it looks like one, at least. Stepping onto soft, artificial turf that you swear could almost be the real thing, your mouth goes agape as you spot a glass patio table illuminated by candlelight underneath a ceiling glittering with clouds and stars! Just past the table sits a rocky pool–its water slowly cycling through different hues to match the ‘sky’ above.
But what takes the cake isn’t the pool. Or the decor. Or the sky. What really throws you for a loop is the soft whir of wheels cutting across the turf and the masked figure sitting limp in the chair the wheels are attached to…
“Stanley Parble…” wheezes a weak, but familiar voice from behind the respirator, “You finally made it…”
>CONTD. 