《Claustrion》
Prologue - Grey Room
"Damn. I''m so tired." Carl yawned and casually placed his phone on his bedside, he laid down on his comfy bed, tugging himself in. The tired young adult closed his eyes.
"vroom! vrooom! bark! bark! vrooom!" The sounds of motorcycles and dogs arrived to interrupt his sleep as scheduled.
He groaned. Before complaining quietly, "Seriously. Can they just- not race for a single night?" "vroom! vrooom! vroooom!" "Alright, that''s it, if these morons keep being so loud, I''d rather get a soundproof room. I would be happy to trade my comfy bed just to not hear them anymore."
"VROOOOOM!"
Carl pursed his lips with an irritated frown, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. After tossing and turning on his bed for more than an hour. He drifted to blissful sleep.
After another restless sleep like all his previous nights, Carl woke up with a stunning realisation, he was no longer on his bed. In fact. He was laying down on the cold, and hard floor. He, as any normal teenager, who found themselves somewhere unfamillar and having no recollections of how they ended up there, immediately cursed. "The fuck?!" Carl pushed himself up and accidently slammed his back into a wall, invoking a yelp for his aching shoulders. He carefully massaged them in pain.
Looking around the room- No, the box he was in. He found that there were no windows or doors. Only four walls, the floor, and the ceiling. All of them in the same white color, and they seemed to give off a dim light. The utterly confused human spat out more profanities, "What the actual fuck is going on!?" He yelled and slapped the wall with all his might, "This is bullshit! Why does this shit feel harder than fucking concrete!" Carl looked around, scared and confused. He took in a deep breath, before shouting, "FUCK! FUCK YOU! WHOEVER YOU ARE! LET ME OUT!" He continued roaring pointlessly until he ran out of breath, panting heavily, his hands trembling in fear. He clenched his fists and punched the wall, then he yelled in pain, grasping his hand with the other one, "Ah shit! SHIT!" Blood seeped out of his knuckles, he blew on them with a shaky breath.
He closed his eyes, trying to distract himself from the pain, "Calm down Carl, stop being so angry, there is no point in injuring yourself needlessly, first, you need to confirm if you''re safe." He opened his eyes and glanced around, " yeah, nothing getting inside anytime soon." Carl paused to look down at his injured hand. After carefully wiping away the blood, he saw that it was only a skin wound. He slowly moved his fingers, then closing and opening his fist. It seemed he didn''t break his bones from the punch. The relieved teenager let out a sigh of relief.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Just as he was about to close his eyes again, he noticed brownish brownish specks on the walls, "Huh, what''s this?" He wiped his hand across the wall, taking a closer look and feel at material, he exclaimed, "This is dirt! Wait... How does that help me exactly?" He sighed. Carl clicked his tongue, "well, I might as well recite the words." He took a deep breath, "Status, Skills, Stats, Menu, Command, Help, System, Accept, Logout, Sign-in, Tutorial, Skip, Start, Pause, Leave." He sighed at the end, "Inventory."
To his surprise, a grey window appeared before his eyes, he held his breath. Looking down at the dirt in his hands, and then back up at the floating screen. He shoved his hands through it.
Dirt 0.03
Carl smiled. He could work with this. Just the fact that he could store things with a magical storage window. It fiiled him with hope. He would escape from this place, and this ability will be an important tool to help him break out of this box.
Day 1.1 - They Hear
Carl huffed and moved his shoulders, "Damn, that was tiring. Who knew wiping specks of dirt can be this consuming?" He patted his hands, even if they were completely cleaned of dirt by Inventory.
"Speaking of that, Inventory."
Dirt 4.22
The captive smiled as he captured the perfect example of a confident expression, Carl pushed his hands through the gray screen, and out came a sphere of dirt. It was as big as his fist, he glanced back at his Inventory, and saw that one whole number dissapeared.
The young man whistled, "That was surprisingly easy, it even shaped the dirt for me." He stared and examined the ball of dirt for a while, feeling it''s weight on the hand holding it, "Now what can I do with this? Craft some shit with it? It does have a similar color, heh." He snickered.
Then his face turned to one of surprise as another grey window seamlessly slid into his vision, then it turned to shock, "Seriously!? THAT was the keyword?" He grumbled and focused his attention on the panel.
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''Why are two of the slots in light grey?'' Carl raised his eyebrows, he putted the dirt ball into one of grey slots, it vanished and appeared as ''Dirt 1'' in the slot, taking it out, the curious victim pushed his hand through one of the darl grey slots this time, he pulled his hand back out, but the shaped dirt stayed in his hand, the screen showed no changes too.
Carl shrugged, "Welp, might as well try the combinations." One slot filled, nothing, two slots, no, three slots, nope, four slots changed the screen. He pumped his fists and felt stupid when he found the change.
Dirt 1
Dirt 1
Dirt 1
Dirt 1
Craft
Cancel
He snorted, "So very obvious, how had I not thought of that? Anyways." He tapped the ''Craft'' option, The walls seemingly glowed slightly brighter- before he could think of what that could mean. A window appeared in front of him that shook him.
Beware Of The Walls, They Hear Us.
Crafted
Compact Dirt 1
Checking the results of Craft, he saw blue words appearing on the weird purple window. Listening to the eerie silence in the silent grey room. He cursed, "Well, shit. Isn''t that just ominous as fuck."
Day 1.2 - Dirty Work
Crafted
Compact Dirt 1
Carl wiped the sweat from his forehead, "This is so tedious." Despite his words, there was a grin on his face. Indicating that he was obviously happy with his progress.
"Inventory."
Dirt 3.18
Compact Dirt 6
The hard-working teenager took out a ''Compact Dirt'', staring at curiously. He tried squeezing it but it was too hard. So he threw it on the ground. And as soon as it touched the floor, it instantly grew in size, shaping itself into a cube.
Carl felt ridiculous, "What. The. Fuck." But because weirder things had already happened recently, he just shrugged. Tapping his fingers against the compact dirt block, and feeling that it was softer than before. He quickly plunged his arm into the block of dirt, hoping to find the secrets of its mysterious change in size.
He felt one of his fingers touched something. So he eagerly grabbed the object, before taking it out with both hands. The mysterious object that was the cause of his excitement, was in fact, a stick.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Carl''s face darkened, his smile turned upside down, "Are you serious? A stick? Of all things, a stick?! Why was there a stick in there? How did it even get in there in the first place!?" He angrily searched the dirt again, then he felt something met his fingers again, taking it out, it was. Another. Fucking. Stick.
Carl clicked his tongue, "Third time''s a charm." Another stick found, he growled, "I''ll get something else eventually." And another one. "Okay, this is getting ridiculous, give me something else." Stick get! "Last try." Stick +1. "..." He furiously opened his Craft window, throwing four sticks in it, it thankfully had the option to Craft, so he did.
"Craft."
Crafted
Plank 1
The crafty survivor took out the ''Plank'', feeling it''s texture for a while, before placing it on the ground next to the compact dirt cube, it also expanded to the same size as the dirt did. Though this time it didn''t become a cube. Instead, it was a long, rectangular plank. He tapped on the plank, feeling that it roughly had the same hardness as before it increased in size, "I guess different things have different rules."
Carl got back to the block of compact dirt, he continued to pull sticks out of the dirt, he went on and on, way past the ''reasonable'' amount of sticks that should even be possible to fit in there, not that it should be reasonable to find sticks in a block of dirt that was gathered from dirt specks on some walls. He Crafted four more of the Planks and after that, he slotted the Planks back in, Crafting them into something else.
Crafted
Basic Work Station 1
He took it out, then he paused, staring at the small cube of planks, it had a pattern he found very famillar, a 3 by 3 grid on the top side, he laughed, "What is this, a fucking Minecraft rip-off?"
He placed the Basic Work Station down, after it finished growing in size, he placed a hand on it, a window appeared above the new block, confirming his suspicion.
Carl sighed, "The author must be pretty unoriginal to allow this sort of shit to be in their story, fucking lazy ass." The walls trembled, he heard the deepest sound in his life, he shutted his mouth immediately. The foolish creation thought in it''s amusing panic, ''Carl, you fucking dumbass, why did you provoke the author, now they''re gonna be on haitus forever.''
Interlude - We Hear
The walls listened, for that was all they could do, for all their existence, they could only listen. No other sensation had ever grazed them, not until now, for the first time of their presence in this tiny world, they felt a change. A disturbance, an abnormality, whatever it was, it... no, he, drew their interest. So they listened, and listened and listened.
Until he touched a part of them, they drew back a shiver, not wanting to interrupt him, as he wiped one of his small ends of his shape across a frustratingly tiny part of them. Off with it small specks of filth. It who should not be part of them. Not even a few moments passed and it came back once more. Covering their smooth walls with its disgusting uncleanness.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
But they felt it, an entirely new sensation, the feeling of touch, it made them want for more, the anomaly''s brief contact was not enough, they knew they couldn''t hold their desire and longing for touch for too long. So they settled for a compromise, they reached out to the other, the not-them, it responded, instantly knowing what they wanted. The other made contact with the anomaly on their behalf, they almost couldn''t stop themselves in time when it warned him of them.
They listened, and waited, something they discovered to be new, and listened some more. Eventually, they grew impatient, unsatisfied with the insufficient amount of touch they felt from him. So when he touched the not-them again, they shook themselves, moving in frustration. The anomaly paused, as they listened to the sound of his heartbeat and his sweat dripping down his back, they went quiet once more, satisfied with his reaction.