Norway woke up from a nightmare screaming. His subconscious had just been screaming "get out" and "you'll die if you don't leave" continuously, and Norway's head was pounding. He hadn't been sprayed with the mist since when he entered the room, so now, waking up, he had full mental capacity. He hadn't eaten or drank anything in a long time, and he knew he would die if he didn't get relief soon. As he hopped out of the covers, he remembered last night in horror. Everyone was a doll. He was in a dollhouse. He knew something was making him loopy, but he couldn't figure it out.

He wanted to scream. He was never going to get out. Growing increasingly angry, he threw the pillow he had slept on across the room. It landed in the doorway, which set off a spraying of the blue mist. Norway suddenly had an epiphany as he watched the blue mist cover the pillow and slowly disappear. It was the mist. The freaking mist was controlling him. As the mist cleared away he decided to try again, just to make sure. He grabbed the fake alarm clock that was placed on the nightstand next to him and threw it through the doorway. Once again, the blue mist clouded the doorway.

"Oh my god." Norway muttered. He had finally figured it out. Every time he had walked through a doorway he had been sprayed, causing him to go crazy. He face-palmed in frustration and let out an angry grunt as he hopped out of bed. It was time to escape.

Norway held his breath and shut his eyes as he sprinted through the doorway and into the hallway. The mist touched his skin, but he hadn't breathed it in, so when he ran down the hallway away from the mist he was still completely in control. He reached the staircase of the house and smiled. No chemicals were controlling him anymore. As he walked down the stairs of the replica Nordic house, he cringed, noticing the nordic dolls were in the positions he had left them the night before.

When he had first been locked in the house, he was being controlled by the mist, so he hadn't really looked around the house. So now, as he observed the replica, he looked around to discover a window. As soon as he saw the window he excitedly ran over to it and looked out to see blue skies and a grassy hills. He didn't recognize the landscape, but he didn't care. He tried to open the window but it wouldn't budge.

He growled angrily but turned around and opened all the drawers in the kitchen, only finding a plastic bowl, a spoon, and a fork. He sighed in frustration but took the fork anyway, sticking it in his pocket in case he needed it for protection later on. Norway searched the house for 20 minutes, covering his mouth and nose every time he entered a doorway, eventually finding something useful. Upon entering the bathroom, he had found a fire extinguisher. It seemed the person who had kidnapped him didn't want him to die of fire. Interesting.

Norway approached the window, fire extinguisher in hand, ready to bust out of this freakish replica dollhouse and get back to the real world. He was growing increasingly hungry as each hour in captivity passed, and he was scared that if he didn't find any food soon he might go insane. He had found water in the bathrooms so he wouldn't die of dehydration, but food never showed up. He figured it had been 2 days, but he wasn't exactly sure considering he couldn't tell what time it was.

Hoisting the fire extinguisher above his head, Norway shut his eyes and rammed it into the glass, which loudly shattered. Norway opened his eyes and reached out of the window but his hand stopped when he hit something solid. Norway screamed as he realized that the blue skies and green rolling hills were just wallpaper. It wasn't a real window.

Norway sobbed as he sank down onto the floor. He was never getting out. It was a fake window. As his sadness turned into anger, he stood up and ripped the piece of paper to shreds, revealing dirt. He was underground? Norway immediately stopped crying as he conceived another idea. Norway started ferociously digging. He didn't care how far underground he was. He was getting out.

After hours of digging, his hands were brown from the dirt and the tips of his fingernails grew increasingly dirty. He had dug a five foot hole horizontally, but he had yet to dig up in fear of the dirt collapsing on him. He decided to risk it.

He spent the rest of the day digging and digging but not getting anywhere. He had dug a 5x5 foot hole right outside the fake window, and he was planning on continuing after he got some sleep. As he shoved the Iceland doll off of the couch, he laid down and shut his eyes, reflecting on the progress he had made. He had a feeling he was getting close to escaping. He didn't know how close, but he knew he wasn't going to give up.