The blinding light may have appeared heavenly, but my instinct told me it was anything but. As soon as my aching body crossed the threshold, the lights flipped on. I squinted my eyes at the intensity, raising my hand up to shield myself. It shone brighter than any headlight or lamp I had ever seen. White light as bright as the ground after snowfall seemed to be the only thing that filled the room.

There was no ceiling.

No floor.

No walls.

Just white.

"Hello?" I called out into the void, my voice carrying a rasp. Like a whisper in the still of the night, my cry fell on deaf ears.

I half expected a monster to crawl out of the nothing and finish me off. What demonic beings lurked in wait? Another killer clown? Or possibly something I hadn't seen yet? Maybe the werewolf from my childhood nightmares wanted me to be its midnight snack?

The twisted Allison did warn me that this would be my worst room yet. So far it reminded me of a padded cell in an insane asylum—alone and white.

My feet carried me forward, in spite of how much my body protested.  All I wanted to do was find the magic door and reach freedom. The thought of escape sparked a bit of hope within me.

Images of Allison's worried face as I walked through the doors flashed in my mind. I could already see her jaw slack and eyes widen as she took me in. Tears would well in her eyes. She wouldn't hesitate to rush me to the hospital, scolding me for my stupid decision the entire way there. 

A smile snaked its way on my lips. She kept me going.

The house had kindly restored my injuries. My head throbbed, and my palm pulsed. Every inch of my body cried for relief.

Freedom was my reprieve.

Walking through the room, I found it eerily quiet. Not even my footsteps carried noise. The silence left me on edge. Goosebumps plagued my skin, leading my hair to stand on edge. An electric energy hung in the air, reminding me of my plight with the Leviathan. If I closed my eyes, I almost felt like I was floating above the crimson sea once again.

My stomach curled, leading me to stop cold in my tracks. The electricity seemed to sneak past my defenses, seeping in through my pores and weakening my body. All the weight my body carried shifted to my limbs, making me feel like cinder blocks had been tied around them.    Nausea teased my stomach. A bit of bile festered in my throat, waiting for permission to come rushing up to the surface like a volcano ready to explode. With eyes closed, I thought about happy thoughts. Allison. Freedom.

Sweat dripped from my forehead as I fought the battle. My thoughts of tranquility waging war against the prickle of nausea. I focused all energy on my balled fists. Painful joints distracted me from tossing my cookies.

Minutes—maybe hours later, the nausea passed. I could have dosed off. I found myself curled in a fetal position on the ground.

The world around me spun as I cautiously found my footing. My skin drenched in a cold sweat. A chattering noise filled the air around me. I scanned the room, looking for a source behind the sound.

The vibrations from my lips made me realize that I was the sound's culprit.

I no longer felt pain.

I felt nothing.

Only cold.

Shivers shook my body. I quickly wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to generate heat.

Was this room an ice box waiting to freeze me to death? Out of everything I lived through, Jack Frost would be my downfall?

I pushed forward at a slower pace. Frozen limbs could only travel so fast.

I staggered forward into the nothing, praying for a miracle. Something told me that my prayers were not welcome in this house.

The spark of hope I experienced earlier already deflated like a week-old balloon.

I knew what the house wanted. It wanted my hopes up only to gain the pleasure of seeing my disappointment. That is what the house lived off of – fear, disappointment, defeat. Any negative emotion it could sink its teeth into brought it satisfaction. That is why it hasn't finished me yet. I've been too strong. But now... after everything... I was close to losing.

"Must...keep...going," I choked out. I carried my hypothetical ball and a chain onward.

My vision had become blurry from the consistent brightness. Like staring at the sun for too long, spots of purple and green dance across the white before me.

Then I saw it.

It must have been a hallucination.

Surely there was nobody in here. Was it a demon? Fred? Had I finally reached the lowest point I possibly could? Was the person standing before me an embodiment of the house, coming to collect its overdue debt?

I stopped walking, debating whether to continue forward.

What if it's a guide out? One voice prodded.

Do you actually think the house would help you? Especially when you are this close to become ripe and ready for the picking? Don't trust it. Don't trust anything. The other voice nagged.

The figure caught sight of me, seeming stunned at my presence. It was a man. Grey hair sat on top of his head, covering bald patches. After what seemed like a moment thought, he advanced towards me.

Nerves pooled in my stomach. An elderly man had to be harmless, right? The closer he came, the more features I could identify. Liver spots covered his arms like freckles. He appeared pale, unlike the rest of the room, with wrinkles wearing into his skin. His clothes looked odd for his age. Ripped jeans and an obscure metal band t-shirt clothed his body.

"Who are you?" the man asked. His voice sounded like he had gargled rocks.

"What task do I need to complete to escape? I'm tired of your stupid games. This ends now," I snapped. Any second now he would start spewing some kind of requirement to escape this hellish room.

"I'm not part of this stupid house. I've been trapped in this room for so long. What year is it?" His face wrinkled at the question.

"2019?" The year came out more as an exasperated question than a statement.

"Five years? I've been stuck in this damn room for five years?" His face burned hot with anger.

"So there really is no escape, is there?" I asked. I could feel a pull in my stomach at the thought. Freedom and Allison had kept me going. Without the promise of either, I didn't see my spirit holding out.

"This room is a purgatory," the man explained. "It feeds off of the prisoner, making them wish they were dead. But it doesn't grant them that pleasure. It keeps us barely alive, just so it can feed."

"So, we are both stuck here? The house told me people escaped before. Was that just a lie?" I don't know why I asked the question. Of course it was a lie. Why would the house tell me the truth? It wanted me to make it here. It wanted to lure me into the belly of beast, so it could savor me forever. The rooms were the seasoning, and now I was simmering, waiting to be tasted. How could I have been so blind?

"Not exactly," the man said. Behind his eyes, a fire ignited.

Confusion clouded my mind momentarily. What did he mean by not exactly? Would we be able to team up and escape?

"What do you mean?"

"This house has rules. Only one person is allowed in purgatory at a time." He smiled. His stance started to unsettle me a little.

"What? What are you saying?" Was he going to kill me, so he could live?

"I have a choice. You will too once the time comes. I can choose to let you pass and escape, or I can choose freedom for myself, leaving you to stay here until the next person stumbles in here."

The words took a second to fully sink in. I could tell his choice had already been made. I would be stuck here until the next victim stumbled in years or centuries later. The house had killed Kara because it didn't need two people entering the room at the same time. It would ruin its master plan and break the system. Everything was finally starting to fall into place, and I didn't like the answers I found.

"My wife, I need to get home to her." I don't know where the plea came from. It was selfish.

"You can wait your turn. Do you think I wanted to spend the rest of my teenage years stuck in this house? All because of one stupid dare."

"Wait," I gasped, "You are Joshua Davis? The kid who went missing five years ago? But your hair... and you have wrinkles?"

"I told you this house sucks the life out of you. Maybe you'll get out sooner than I did." Crazy lingered in his eyes. Spending five years alone would drive anyone insane.

"Will you send help?" I asked, looking up into his grey eyes.

"And condemn someone else in your place? I don't want that on my conscience." He shook his head, laughing.

"Can't they tear down the house?"

He laughed again, sending a chill down my spine.

"Don't you think they tried? A century later and it is still standing proud. There was a reason this house was off limits. What were you even doing here? You don't seem like the type to break and enter on a dare."

"The company I work for bought the house. They wanted me to fix it up and sell it," I explained.

"The rumors weren't enough to keep you away?" Joshua joked. His fingers twitched wildly at his side.

"Well, I was a bit of a skeptic. Plus, the promise of a promotion seemed like a lovely idea at a time." I chuckled, a coughing fit shaking my entire body.

"What's your name?"

"Trevor," I replied.

"I won't forget you, Trevor."

"Will you..." I bit my tongue at the question. I didn't trust him.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"Nothing." I brushed it off.

"Okay." He nodded, looking to his left. "Bye." His tone was short. He was ready to enjoy his freedom.

He stuck his hand out, gripping thin air. With the motion of turning a door knob, he pulled the invisible object toward himself. With a wave, he stepped into whatever he had just opened, leaving me all alone.

Silence fell over the room again. I was alone. Talking to Joshua had made me feel like a person, even if he had gone a little too far off the deep end. And now, I was left to the solitude of my thoughts.

I could already sense the insanity creeping in.

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