Trigger Warnings: This story holds elements of both existential, psychological, and other horror elements. Especially in the beginning of the story. This includes feelings of dysphoria, memory loss, dread, and physical and psychological pain. Please be aware of this and stop now if you can not handle these potential topics at this time. Please take care of yourself! Your health is more important than my silly little story.
Reminder: This is not a completed chapter! Just a little sneak peak posted with the intent to get some feedback! This is an ongoing story.
“This is a story about a man named Stanley.”
I groggily thought about how weird it was to hear such a voice as a blaring headache forced my eyes to tighten even furthur. Even still I forced my eyes to open, quickly blocking the bright lights out of my eyes with a hand to my forehead. I squinted as I waited for my eyes to re-adjust, feeling rather confused, the lights in my room had never been this bright before. My bleary eyes finally widened as I noticed an out of place computer that was certainly not mine, considering it was one that would normally be seen in office sitcoms set in the 90’s..
My head snapped from side to side of the office space in an attempt to get my bearings. As my eyes landed on a deciding factor of my situation I found my feet subconsciously taking a few steps backwards, my heels knocking into the back of the wheely chair which caused me to almost stumble down. I had just narrowly avoided falling back by catching myself with a decisive grip on the desk besides me. The fall inducing lettering continued to stare into my soul with its bright yellow coloring, if it wasn’t for its placement, then it would’ve held little to no significance. As it stood, the four hundred and twenty seven was the number of a man named Stanley, and showed me exactly where I had ended up.
The Stanley Parable. A hit game created and written by the developers Davey Wreden and William Pugh. A story about Stanley and the many paths he could take within these closed walls, but I was not Stanley. Taking a glance down at my hands, the world seemed to swirl around me as I made an awful discovery. My hands were no longer my own, they were distorted, twisted and utterly perverted from their original form. I snapped my head over to the computer rushing over and slamming my, well someone's hands, upon the desktop, the phone and stacked papers rattling at the impact. I stared desperately into the blank screen that only held a bright green blinking cursor, only to see a face filled with horror stare back at me, as I reached my hand out I saw the movement reflected back at me. My facial expression sank as the realization hit me like a sack of bricks. I was Stanley.
I gasped softly backing up, a hand taking hold of the side of my skull as I struggled to comprehend the situation I found myself in. Logically this could all be chalked up to a dream, a nightmare, if not for the feeling of my head beneath my fingertips and the ragged breaths escaping from me at an uneven pace. Through rough breaths I glanced around for an out, a way to leave, an open door. The solution was found through an open door on my left which opened up to the familiar sight of the office’s of Stanley’s missing co-workers. As I gripped the door handle with Stanley’s hands, the cooling sensation of the knob rained down my veins, causing a shiver to run up my spine. I had never considered myself a coward per say, although this was certainly a time for a change. I thought as I slammed the door closed in front of me.
As Stanley’s hand still gripped the handle, I closed my eyes and considered my actions, I had just trapped myself into one of the quickest endings of the game. The so-called Coward ending.
“But Stanley simply couldn’t handle the pressure.” The entirely recognizable voice rang out through the room. “What if he had to make a decision? What if a crucial outcome fell under his responsibility.”
The same voice-lines that I originally looked up and down for within the original game came back to haunt me in some twisted form of wish fulfillment. I turned Stanley’s head up to the ceiling in hope of some acknowledgement, in hopes that maybe, I could be seen.
“He had never been trained for that.” The voice unknowingly continued cruelly. “No, this couldn’t go anywhere except badly.”
These words held a haunting reality that I may have to face within the coming moments, for truly, I had no idea of the potential outcomes of my actions. This could end up being the decision that causes my ultimate death. I shivered as fear crept up my spine as I realized the horrible decision I had just done. Locking myself in this room with no escape, no idea what would happen to me if the game reset. With everyone none the wiser of my current predicament.
“The thing to do now, Stanley thought to himself, is to wait.”
No, that’s the last thing I should be doing.
“In here I can be happy, forever.”
“Stanley waited. Hours passed.” The voice rumbled against my silent pleas.
I hurriedly ran around the room trying to find some way to prevent the inevitable outcome, slamming Stanley’s hands across the keyboard, trying to type something. Say something! But the keys did not respond, no letters showed up on the ever blinking monitor, feeling desperate I ran back over to the closed door. Roughly jiggling the doorknob beneath Stanley’s finger’s, silently saying sorry to Stanley, as I started to ram his shoulder into the door in a desperate attempt to make it budge. It didn’t even make a sound.
“Then days.” A tingling sensation started to form at the back of my skull. “Had years gone by? He no longer had the ability to tell.”
I felt dizzy as I stumbled the world shifting around my eyes, the world started blacking around the edges, as a pressure started pushing down on my chest. Has this room always been this dark? Am I going crazy? I tried to take in a lungful of breaths as breathing became harder and harder to accomplish. I felt my legs give out beneath me as I fell to the ground my hands slayed open upon the carpeted ground.
“But the one thing he knew for sure, beyond any doubt, was that if he waited long enough, the answers would come.”
Would they? I wanted to ask but no words would come out, I was just as mute as the original Stanley had been. I closed my eyes as another bout of dizziness overcame me, feeling my stomach churn at the sensation, my head limply sunk further towards my chest as the Narrator continued his spiel.
“Eventually some day they would arrive.” The words reverberated around the tiny office space. “Soon, very soon now, this will end.”
I felt my body shake in defiance trying to take one more stance, to not give up, to try and stop the ending. I slammed my rolled up fists upon the ground, opening up my mouth in a desperate attempt to scream, to make him realize that I was alive and suffering!... but the sounds never came as the words continued to flow around my brain.
“He will be spoken to.” The words tore into my heart, speaking of my exact desires at this moment. To be seen, really seen, not as the body I had been shoved into… but as me.
I felt my body collapse to the ground fully, curled up in the fetal position of pain, nausea, and fear. The last bits of energy spent in a desperate attempt to reach out to the man who was out of sight, who was just a voice; and yet, was my only hope at survival.
“He will be told what to do.” The voice seemed to spit out, annoyance dripping off of every word.
I begin to wonder what would’ve happened if I just followed, listened to the Narrator’s words, and his story to the true ending. I closed my eyes fiercely trying to fight back against those negative thoughts but they just kept coming like waves up against a tide. If I hadn’t been a coward and tried to get out of the story as soon as possible, would I be looking across the green pastures filled with trees and nature.
“Now it’s just a little bit closer…”
The brief silence was deafening, hearing the soft humming ambiance of the whirling machinery of the office. Unfortunately the only thing coming closer to me was my inevitable death, as I tried to suck in another breath, only to realize I was no longer gaining any oxygen. I wanted to panic, to try and fight, but I no longer had the energy to do so. Leaving my last conscious action to be the tears that poured from these eyes.
“Now it’s even closer!” The Narrator spoke in an almost uncharacteristically excited tone.
The End Is Never The End Is Never The----
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