I'm writing this from a horrible place in hopes that it will somehow reach anyone out there. So the event that got me here happened to me this weekend. I was on holiday, about two weeks in when I get invited to this performance. Not via phone, but I get this neatly wrapped parcel in my mail, its bound by leather straps in a velvet sleeve that holds the letter in.
It's not new paper either, it had an odd, old-fashioned texture to it; it felt coarse. But anyway, the parcel was covered in dust and it had looked like it had been around for a long time. What got me creeped out by this thing was the fact I checked my mail around two or three days ago. It was littered with stamps, from all around the world! It had Berlin, Tokyo, New York, London just to name a few. I could barely get the thing to open by the time I got inside. The stamps and labels listing its countless destinations made it hard for me to find the opening.
But, I digress, after a while of fiddling with the packaging the parcel opened. The paper fell away gently to reveal a little oak box, like the one you would keep jewelry in, along with the box it had an attached note:
You have been cordially invited to attend the event of the century.
Come on down and experience the event of a lifetime.
Open the Box when you arrive.
So after seeing this and reading some creepypastas in my time, I was kind of skeptical but excited, the address was a local place in the city, maybe I would meet a ghost or something, it might just be a prank or an actual party, but the circumstances made me skeptical so I decided to go to this little get together. BUT, a good explorer has to be prepared. I collected a flashlight, some protein bars, a K-bar knife my dad gave me after he left the military, and some water. Alright, I thought, I can go to this place, scope it out and then come home and write a story about my experiences or something like that, maybe get some internet fandom, this was my main goal anyway, and I had a free weekend. Hey, why not?
I left the house, locking up as usual, leaving a note to tell anyone who wanted to find me where I was going and began walking, the city block I needed to go to was only a short distance to where I lived. The walk was pretty normal, a few drunkards walking around the street, club music blasting through the thin walls. A couple of cute girls eyed me, but I just stuck my hands into my coat keeping my mind on the task at hand. I could be in another place apart from exploring supernatural parcels and messages, but what the hell? I have two months to kill.
Well, the address wasn't what I was expecting. I was waiting for a menacing lot, covered in tombstones and a big mansion overlooking a block of land that should have been sold in the 19th century, but nope, this place was just a big block of apartments. It looked normal enough. I studied the outside for a while before entering, the architecture looked like something from a noir detective film, but I was assured that I would be alright, there were plenty of party goers across the road and enough light to keep it illuminated if I was about the get the shit kicked out of me by a homeless man or whatever awaited me in these apartment.
The main gate door was left ajar, the people who invited me were probably expecting me to arrive, so I put on my toughest ghost hunting face and walk boldly inside.
Well, how anti-climactic, a receptionist sits at the desk doing her nails.
She glances up. "Oh it's you! The other guests are upstairs. Here let me show you up."
I looked down at my shoes feeling a little disappointed. No monsters, no demons, hell even an oversized rat would have made this outing a little more fun. I get a better look at the receptionist as she glides over to me, the biggest smile stretched cheek to cheek as the ushers me toward the old timey elevator.
"You are so lucky to be invited to such a special event," she says.
"Why, thank you, ma'am," I say, putting on my most dapper 30's detective voice.
She blushes and doesn't say a word for the rest of the trip up to whatever floor I'm going to.
We arrive at the floor, no lights protrude in the hall apart from the lights on beside the door to room 922.
"Well here we are, enjoy your stay!"
Before I can say anything to the young lady she tattles of into the elevator waving as she descends down to the ground floor. Strange how the music across the street has stopped now.
The door opens as a large man in a suit extends his finger, motioning me to come inside. I enter the room, instead of being greeted by the usual party guests and a apartment housing food and drinks I am show to a large auditorium, totally impossible to be on the side of an apartment building, the hall extends to over two hundred feet across. Dotted around the landscape are people. Oh, thank Christ, people!
But the hall still has me eerily expecting something to jump out of nowhere. The crowd looks up from whatever they are doing and stares at me, not even blinking, they just stare.
"Oh, hey guys, don't let me stop the party."
They continue staring at me. This gives me time to notice what or who they are. All of them are different in every way, there are Asian, African, Caucasian and they are all dressed as if they were from different eras to me. There are 50's businessmen, there are emperors, there are samurai, there are peasants, there are kings and monarchs. Even a group of soldiers are amongst the large crowd staring right at me. The expression on their faces is sadness but they look as if the costumes were fashioned professionally and they could be having a really great time.
The man in the suit gets out a clipboard and asks me my name.
"Uhhhh, wouldn't you guys know if you already sent me a letter?"
He glances at me and cracks his knuckles.
"Ohh, um... it's John Klemment."
He nods and closes the door behind me.
I turn around, the crowd is still staring at me. I walk in-between them trying to look around for some sort of drink I can blend in with. One of the soldiers walks up to me and pats me on the shoulder.
"Bad luck kid. Sometimes your number just comes up."
A knight sticks his helmet up and shouts.
"By the gods, isn't anyone going to tell the boy what has happened? Look at him! He doesn't even know what he has walked in to!"
A businessman walks over to me, carrying a martini and says perfectly calmly, "You are so fucked."
I immediately run towards the door, the handle opens and I burst outwards, the suited man is nowhere to be seen. The elevator is rusted but it looks like it could still work, I get my knife out and pry the gate open and hop in, the buttons light up barely as the door I ran out of closes on the saddened party goers. The elevator creaks and finally starts to descend. I arrive at the bottom floor, all lights are out and there is a dusty mold growing over everything, this isn't even the worst part, the rotting corpse sitting where the receptionist last was has rolled of its chair and smashed into the ground.
I start hyperventilating and running out the front door. The city is black, no lights, no sounds. The only noticeable thing is how old everything is. The buildings are the same, but rusted and dusty, the road has cracks all around and there are corpses on the sidewalks and street. I get out my flashlight and start sprinting towards my house. I get about halfway when I notice the guests are behind me, standing perfectly still, some are crying, others are laughing.
I run home and try to lock the door, my dog's leg is jammed on the hinge as I slam the door and the bone shatters as I run upstairs, to shocked for words I burst into my room, dusty and in awful shape I sit at my desk and begin to cry. I wasn't prepared for this, I shouldn't have gone, this is dumb all the stories online could have been real. This has to be fake, I wait for the cameras and director to come out laughing but it never happens.
I rummage through my shelves, all dusty and useless, I check my backpack and look for something that can help. The protein bars are intact, I undo a sheath hoping that some food would calm my nerves, but only dust falls out of the place where the bar should be. I drop it and scream. I'm thirsty I need water. The water bottle unhinges and only dust and ash pour out. I slam my fist into the desk and look for more things to try, the only two things intact are the box and note, my knife and torch disintegrate as I put them away.
I remember the words of the letter and decide I have definitely arrived enough to open it, I expect salvation and glimmering light, a possible escape from this hellhole a bastion of hope fills my hear as I slide open the lid.
You have arrived to the party.
Unfortunately, you can't leave.
Spend time with new friends at your new home and enjoy.
Welcome to Hell.
The box falls on the floor along with my hope of ever leaving. I collect my items and pace around the room. This can't be it, I don't want to die in this place. I have hopes, I have dreams I have people waiting for me back home.
I muster my courage to open the door I closed behind me in my bedroom, it only opens to a large hall about two hundred meters long, the guests are still there, looking at me.
Tears well up in my eyes as they walk toward me, they try to console me as the box and note turn to ash in my hands as well.
"It's going to be alright kid. One day, we'll get out of here," says a biker.
Two hundred years have passed.
All I can do to keep my sanity is write the notes on what good paper we can find in the city, and the group hasn't had any additions for a while now. I'm starving to death but I can't die, I feel pain but we don't get any rest. I tried to climb to a skyscraper and jump yesterday but when I hit the ground I just woke up in the hall.
The lights on the hall flicker on. The colour floods back into the room for a split second. The man in the suit opens the door at the end of the entrance. I'm standing right beside him, he pushes a girl in, she's pretty, about twenty years old, about the same age I was when I got taken in. I walk over to her calmly and put my hand on her shoulder and whisper into her ear:
"I'm so sorry."