Start\n&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nOpening my eyes I looked around.\n\nI could hear its approach.\n\nSlow.\n\nDeliberate. \n\nStreet lamps burst as it passed them by.\n\nGlass and plastic fell as if the rain had metamorphosed into hard, sharp ice, screaming as they hit slick road.\n\n\nI dared not [[stop]].\n\nI dared not [[turn and look]].\n\nI ran to [[escape the darkness]].
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nThe ringtone finished and was replaced by harsh white noise. \n\nI put the receiver back and looked back down at the note.\n\nWhat had I thought would happen? \n\nWhy did I think that I could just call her, and she would answer and everything would be fine?\n\nJesus Christ, she died two years ago, and I did nothing. I was too far removed, I had buried her too deeply.\n\nI moved to examine [[the crumpled receipt]]. \n\nPicking it up, I smoothed it on my chest.\n\nThe phone rang.\n\nMy heart stopped. \n\nWho was ringing?\n\nOf it's own accord my hand dropped the slip of paper and reached back for the receiver. I could not stop it. I didn't try. \n\nPutting the receiver once more to my ear I strained to hear past the silence on the other end. I could hear faint breathing, irregular and shallow. \n\nI waited, not being able to speak. \n\nThe breathing continued and broke into a sob.\n\nI tried to ask who was on the other end but my words caught in my throat, the sound remaining unarticulated, amorphous and stifled.\n\nThe voice broke through the sobbing, a man's voice.\n\n"Adeline, I don't think I can do it anymore. I just don't-”\n\nIt cut off, the sobbing continued.\n\n"I just don't think I can go on living this lie. Adeline...."\n\nThe voice pleaded. \n\nThe sobbing stopped and a woman's voice said, “John, you have to. If not for me then for him -”\n\nThe man's voice cut in, "Who? For him? That's bullshit Adeline, you know it. It's all for you. It's all always for you."\n\n"Please," the woman's voice said.\n\n"No Adeline, you are the one who betrayed me. You are the one who betrayed God. Do I mean nothing to you? Does this mean nothing to you?"\n\nThere was silence and the sobbing returned.\n\nThe man's voice spoke again, “Why? Why him? Why did it have to be him?"\n\nThe woman's voice screamed, “Because you never loved me John. You never loved me like you love your fucking bible, and you congregation and your faith. Where is your faith in me, where was it? What did you ever give me? You gave me nothing. He gave me Danny......He gave us Danny."\n\n"Don't talk to me about faith you whore. Where is your faith? What faith have you? Your faith that ploughed its way through that boy until you were with child. You fucking whore."\n\n"Please John, please....."\n\n"He was a boy Adeline, and you....you...."\n\n“Fuck you John. Fuck you.”\n\nThe voices stopped.\n\nOnce again there was silence.\n\nI dropped the receiver. \n\n\n[[I turned and looked|turn and look]].\n\n <<if visited("I called a dead woman.")>> <<set $dead to 1>><<endif>>
Start\n&#: 13830\n\nI could hear its approach.\n\nSlow.\n\nDeliberate. \n\nStreet lamps burst as it passed them by.\n\nGlass and plastic fell as if the rain had metamorphosed into hard, sharp ice, screaming as they hit slick road.\n\n\nI dared not [[stop]].\n\nI dared not [[turn and look]].\n\nI ran to [[escape the darkness]].
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&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nI closed the door behind me, trying to block out the darkness as it called out to me through the glass window, begging me to [[turn and look]].\n\nI put my hand to my ears and closed my eyes. Opening my mouth to scream, I tried to drown the darkness with my terror.\n\n<<if visited("use the phone") is 0 and visited("waited for the tone") is 1>>\n\n The [[phone rang|use the phone]]. \n\n<<elseif visited("Call Jimmy's Lighting") is 0 and visited("waited for the tone") is 1>>\n\n The [[phone rang|use the phone]]. \n\n<<else>>The beating darkness stopped and the world spun silently; repeating:\n\n[[Where was I?]] What should I do?\nWhere was I? What should I do? \nWhere was I? \n[[What should I do?]] \nWhere was I? What should I do? \nWhere was I? What should I do? \nWhere was I? What should I do? \n[[Where was I?]] [[What should I do?]] \n[[Where was I?]] What should I do? \n[[Where was I?]] \n\n[[What should I do?]] \n\n[[Where was I?]] [[What should I do?]]\n[[Where was I?]] What should I do?[[What should I do?]]\n\n[[Where was I?]] What should I do? Where was I? What should I do? Where was I?[[What should I do?]]\nWhere was I?\n What should I do? \nWhere was I?[[Where was I?]] \n[[What should I do?]]\n[[Where was I?]]Where was I? What should I do? \n What should I do? \n What should I do? Where was I? What should I do? \nWhere was I? What should I do? [[What should I do?]]\n[[Where was I?]] Where was I? \n[[What should I do?]]\nWhere was I? What should I do? \nWhere was I?\n[[Where was I?]] [[What should I do?]]\n \n\n<<endif>>
You open eyes. \n\n\nSeated across the room Dr Boch observes you intently. He leans forward, his hands placed in front of his mouth, clasped as if praying. The noise of traffic on the street below filters through window, present but dislocated from the starkly furnished office. You try to get up, off the recliner.\n\nDr Boch speaks, “Don’t try to move yet. The sedatives are still in effect. Though you should be able to hear me now." \n\nHe moves back in his chair, placing his hands on his lap.\n\n"That's always the problem with these Viratech treatments, they're unstable. Never know what's going to happen in them or if they'll work at all."\n\nHe pauses, then says, "But 1383<<print visited("start 2")>> loops is not bad. Either way, the treatment will last as long as necessary. There is not much we can do until your consciousness reconciles itself, consolidating your sense of agency."\n\nYou feel your purchase on reality slipping, the world distorts, coming in and out of focus. Your vision starts to compress, swimming, growing darker.\n\n\n\n[[You realise you are closing your eyes|start 2]]
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nI shoved my hands in my pockets, turning them out. \n\n I crouched down and looked at [[the whistle]], [[the notepad]] and [[the crumpled receipt]] that now lay on the concrete floor.
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nI looked at the darkness. \n\nI needed to feel its presence with my gaze, palpating and probing the odd sensations and esoteric understandings that only such an action could beget.\n\nI would consume it.\n\nI would be <<if visited("I called a dead woman.")>> [[the woman]] <<else>> the woman <<endif>> after mass; who with hot and heavy breath plied her faith deeply and secretly, bestowing her sacrament upon the kneeling youth.\n\nI would be <<if visited("waited for the tone")>> [[the child]]<<else>> the child <<endif>> gazing into the eyes of the tabby; whos mewling none would hear as its wet fur yielded hues of blues and reds and whites and pinks to the steel of sheers.\n\nI would be <<if visited("Winston County")>> [[the man]]<<else>> the man <<endif>> prostrate in the dust; who blessed by god, lay palms turned skyward bearing the stigmata, awaiting the ascension of his martyrdom. \n\nTo escape the darkness would be to shun its secrets.\n\nI needed only to [[stop|stop]].\n<<if $county is 1>>I needed only to [[let go.|stop]]<<endif>>\n<<if $tone is 1>>I needed only to [[accept it.|stop]]<<endif>>\n<<if $dead is 1>>I needed only to [[quit.|stop]]<<endif>>
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nMy father died in Winston County.\n\nOne day after mass he walked out into the field behind the church and slit his wrists. The custodian found him, his blood already having soaked into the earth, his arms lying beside him as if accepting his ascendance into heaven. \n\nI guess that was why we left.\n\nMy mother took me away, saying it was to protect me from the scandal, but I think it was really to protect herself.\n\nI don't know why he killed himself. I don't know why a pastor, a man who exemplified and extolled the word of god would commit such a heinous affront to all that he believed in. \n\nI guess I always resented my mother for taking me away. I resented her for shutting me out, for burying her faith. The faith she used to blame my father, to curse him. The faith though which she saw me as the weak imitation of the man who had inflicted such suffering on her. She buried her faith, and buried herself in it. The bible and sacramental wine were all she needed. Eventually found she did not need me, or perhaps I reminded her too much of my father, holding her back from the red soaked sainthood that she so craved.\n\nAfter I left her I never spoke to her again. \n\nAfter I left I buried her. \n\nI buried her deep. \n\n\n[[Where she could never find me.|turn and look]]\n\n\n <<if visited("Winston County")>><<set $county to 1>><<endif>>
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nI opened the book, searching for any names or phone numbers that looked familiar. \n\nTearing through the pages I finally found one: Raymond Boch.\n\nBefore I knew it I had begun [[dialling the number]].
You hear a voice.\n\n"1383<<print visited("start 2")>> loops and counting. The patient appears to have encountered trauma, the manifestation of which appears be stimulated and aggressive. Treatment is still in effect. Total immersion is unresolved, but advisable. Further treatment is required."\n\nThe voice stops. You hear a click and beep and something being set on a surface.\n\nA woman's voice speaks.\n\n"Doctor, it appears he has reached a terminus: The Child."\n\nThere is the sound of clicking on hard linoleum.\n\nThe woman speaks again, "Should we continue treatment?"\n\nThere is a pause, then the male voice says, “The treatment has already been initiated at a critical level. Now it's up to them to end it."\n\nThere is another pause. \n\nThe male voice continues, "I just hope he doesn't get lost in there or get pulled out before it's totally over." \n\nThe woman's voice sighs. \n\nThe woman's voice begins to speak again, but you cannot make out what she is saying. The sounds seem to merge into each other, swirling and shifting. You try to focus, but you can feel becoming unable distinguish between what you hear and sounds in your head.\n\nAll you hear is white noise. Static.\n\nYou try to [[open your eyes|start 2]].
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nPicking up the receipt I pulled it taught, smoothing it on my chest.\n\nI turned it over, examining both sides, the faded ink revealing it to be from a grocery store.\n\nI strained to read the itemised list.\n\nThe purchase had been for cheese and peas, coming to a total of $12.64, rounded to $12.65. The bill had been paid with $20 in cash. $7.35 had been given in change. \n\nAt the bottom of the receipt circled in red pen was an ad:\n\n//"Scared of the dark? We can lighten your mood! [[Call Jimmy's Lighting]] on 123569 or Find us on the back of the phone book!"//\n\nI stared at the ad. Something about it seemed absurd, as if the receipt had been conveniently placed in my pocket. It all seemed too convenient. \n\nI read the ad again and felt slight relief from the terror that had moments ago plagued me. Though I could still feel the darkness tugging at the fringes of my mind, urging me to [[turn and look]], it had somehow diminished. \n\nIn fact, as I turned to look around, I decided that I did have a "darkness problem". The mood in the phone box use some lightening. \n\nI read the ad again and again, each time feeling surer of myself.\n\nReaching for the phone receiver I read the ad one last time.\n\n//"Scared of the dark? We can lighten your mood! [[Call Jimmy's Lighting]] on 123569 or Find us on the back of the phone book!"//
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n<<if visited("use the phone") is 1 and visited("Call Jimmy's Lighting") is 0>>\n\nThere was nothing but static.\n\nNo dial tone.\n\nJust static.\n\nStatic that was like a wave surging into itself, its currents forming eddies of black and white, gripping me, pulling me away from the shores of my consciousness. \n\nI felt my gaze become vacant. \n\nThrough the hash of blank sound I heard a voice.\n\n"Oh hi there, yeah, sorry about the delay, we were still trying to figure out your frequency. Mmmmm so a first timer huh? Well I bet this must be pretty weird. Let me just see what you're in for."\n\nThe voice was replaced by what sounded like shuffling paper.\n\n"Mmmmmm. Ok, so you are trying to...." it trailed off again, "Oh that's right, you're trying to escape the darkness...blah blah....hallucinations....Winston County....Mmmm, ok."\n\nI tried to speak, but found myself unable to form any words. \n\nThe voice cut in again, “Oh yeah, don't try to speak, you won’t be able to. Mmmmm.... think of it like this, you're sort of, sort of in a fugue state right now, which is not to say that you ARE in a sort of fugue state, rather it's sort of like being in a sort of fugue state - ontologically speaking. It's kind of like you can't remember who or what or how you are, but do know you’re being superimposed into someone's imagination in a separate dimension, and you think you are that someone, but also at the same time an abstraction of someone else’s imagination, but really you are the first someone vicariously existing in the plane of the second someone's imagination. But also you are really here, talking to me....I think, yes...mmmmmmm," the voice trailed off again.\n\nAfter a short pause it said, "So yeah, a sort of, sort of fugue state - ontologically speaking. But that's why you can’t really speak, and by that I mean not at all, cause your consciousness is all muddled up right now. Which means - “it cut off, again being replaced by shuffling paper.\n\n"Oh shit, sorry I forgot you're a first timer. Ok, ok, ok, in that case I can't really say much more, but looking over your paper work, boy do you have some shit to work out. Well, what I can say, is that basically you're sort of pretty much stuck in a bit of a sort of a causal loop. An ontologically fugue statey loop. But don't worry about it too much, you'll be able to get out of it eventually. It'll just take some time. Just sort of figure out what that darkness that chasing you is, and, just stop being chased. I mean once you have an idea of what the darkness is, you pretty much gotta decide to stop, and once you decide to stop it will just happen, I guess. It can't end any other way. \n\n"Yeah, oh and by the way, you'll probably forget this ever happened, but someone, or someone else will remember, so don’t' worry, you'll be fine. Well, at least someone will be fine. Mmmmmmmmmm. \n\n"So, if this satisfies your query today I'd like to thank you for using Viratech and hope you choose again. From all of us at Viratech we wish the best of luck with this experience. Your loop will restart in [[3....2....1|start 2]]"\n\n<<else>>\n\nThere was nothing but static.\n\nNo dial tone.\n\nJust static.\n\nStatic that was like a wave surging into itself, its currents forming eddies of black and white, gripping me, pulling me away from the shores of my consciousness. \n\nI felt my gaze become vacant. \n\nThrough the hash of blank sound I heard a voice coaxing me to [[turn and look]].\n\nI ripped the receiver away from my ear.\n\nI could not face that darkness.\n\nI went to [[examine my pockets]], or the [[phone book]] for clues.\n<<endif>>
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nPressing the receiver to my ear, I held my breath, waiting for a voice on the other end to break the intermittent ringing. \n\n"Hello, you have reached the office Doctor Raymond Boch. He is not able to answer the phone right now, but please leave a message with your name and contact number after the tone. Thank you, and have a wonderful day."\n\nSilence followed the message.\n\nThe air in the phone box grew thick and cold, the light beginning to dim.\n\nWhat would I say if I [[waited for the tone]]?\n\nI thought that perhaps I should [[hang up]].
Untitled Story
The smell of disinfectant and food and faecal matter cause you to open your eyes. You look around but don't recognise where you are. Before you can speak or call out you hear a voice behind you speak.\n\n"Danny, you're in my clinic. I'm Doctor Raymond Boch. You have been undertaking the Viratech treatment for conscious equilibrium. You have currently undergone 1383<<print visited("start 2")>> loops. How do you feel?"\n\nYou try to speak but find you can't open your mouth.\n\n"Don't worry Danny, it seems the sedatives are still in effect. You'll feel better soon. I promise. When you are up to it, we can talk about what you went through, what you are and will be going through, but if you feel like you have a sensation of temporal dislocation or looping don't worry. It's quite normal. Right now your consciousness is quite jumbled up, but you'll be fine in no time. The treatment will end when it does. You just have to trust that it will all come together."\n\nYou feel something squeeze you shoulder. Dr Boch walk from behind you into your field of vision. He smiles then begins to count backwards from ten.\n\nYou feel your consciousness slip away from under you, each number eroding more and more of you lucidity.\n\nYou feel your eyes flutter then close. \n\n"3.....2.....1....[[Commencing Loop 1383<<print visited("start 2")+1>>|start 2]]."
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\n\nPerhaps all along I had known that this is how it ends. \n\nThat to run and deny the darkness is futile. \n\nAll I have to do is [[stop|start 2]].\n<<if $county is 1>>All I have to do is [[stop and let go.|start 2]]<<endif>>\n<<if $tone is 1>>All I have to do is [[stop and accept it.|start 2]]<<endif>>\n<<if $dead is 1>>All I have to do is [[stop and quit.|start 2]]<<endif>>
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nThe silence grew into blaring static.\n\nFading in and out of clarity a voice came through,\n\n“So tell me about your childhood, about the violence."\n\nI hear another voice, recognising it as my own. \n\n"I don’t know what else to say....oh..beig..I mean he's dead. They all are......"\n\n"No......I mean...tel... me, about your violence. Tell me about the cat."\n\n"There's nothing to it. I just wanted to feel death."\n\n" ..op...did you?"\n\n"I guess."\n\n"Been back to Winston County?"\n\n"No, why should I?"\n\n"Why did you kill that cat the way you did?\n\n"I don't know. I thought it could bring closure....kill the darkness.\n\n"This darkness...in....uo... perhaps you could put some of those demons to rest?"\n\n"That’s what I'm fuckin paying you for, you fat fuck..."\n\n"Now what did we talk about with using violent wor- "\n\n"Fuck you, I'm done."\n\nThe voices trailed off.\n\nI heard a door slam.\n\nDropping the reciever, [[I turned to look at the darkness|turn and look]].\n\n <<if visited("waited for the tone")>><<set $tone to 1>><<endif>>
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nUndulating currents of dread coursed in my veins. \n\nThe frigid air wicked my breath, drawing long white tendrils which curled, lingering only to be consumed by the darkness, feeding it, strengthening it. \n\nThe hot beat of its approach drummed against my ears, growing louder with each step.\n\nI ran.\n\nI ran and dared not [[stop]] . \n\nI ran and dared not [[turn and look]].\n\nI ran towards the [[phone box]].
Anonymous
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nThe fluorescent light above me flickered as I opened my eyes.\n\nIt began to rain again.\n\nThe telephone box was bare but for the blue phone book and rotary telephone hanging on the worn aluminium frame.\n\nThe windowless walls which stood beside and in front of me seemed to have been painted over again and again. Profanities scratched on every surface revealed layers of white, red, blue and pink. \n\nThe phonebook was from [[Winston County]], but that was impossible.\n\nWinston County was a world away, an Ocean, 5000 miles and two decades away.\n\nSurely I was in a dream.\n\nA realm conjured from the void that tugs at my consciousness as I fall asleep. The tendrils of uncertainty that fester, turning over and over again in my mind, begging, threatening, seducing - forming into menacing shapes that only I recognise.\n\nYet it could not be a dream.\n\nIt was too real.\n\nWhat was the darkness: the voice that whispered for me to look, the formless terror that followed me, begging me to [[turn and look]].
Untitled Story
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nIt began to rain again.\n\nI put the phone back on the hook and looked around.\n\nThe telephone box was bare but for the blue phone book and rotary telephone hanging on the worn aluminium frame.\n\nThe windowless walls which stood beside and in front of me seemed to have been painted over again and again. Profanities scratched on every surface revealed layers of white, red, blue and pink. \n\nSurely I was in a dream.\n\nA realm conjured from the void that tugs at my consciousness as I fall asleep. The tendrils of uncertainty that fester, turning over and over again in my mind, begging, threatening, seducing - forming into menacing shapes that only I recognise.\n\nYet could not be a dream.\n\nIt was too real, every sensation too visceral.\n\nWhat was the darkness that whispered for me to look, the formless terror that pursued me?\n\nI moved to [[examine my pockets]].
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nI picked the notepad off the ground. Its spiral binding had been deformed by constant carry, each attempt at correction seeming to only exacerbate the scoliosis. \n\nIt was empty but for a single line of text: \n\ncall adeline. phone +34 567928\n\nI repeated the name out loud. \n\n....Adeline\n\nMy scalp prickled as a chill rippled its way to my crotch. \n\nI read the line again.\n\ncall adeline. phone +34 567928\n\nAdeline Mainardy. \n\nI hadn't heard that name in over a decade. \n\nIt was my mother's maiden name.\n\nI tried to close the notepad. I tried to tear out the page and shred it. \n\nI could not.\n\nI could not shift my gaze from the message. Each time I read it I needed to call the number, to reach up to the phone and shout into it. To scream and yell and cry and laugh and curse Adeline Mainadry. To say everything that I had tried to make all the shrinks and girlfriends understand. \n\nI wanted to call Adeline Mainardy and tell her to come and see how I now lived. To show her the empty liquor bottles that stored memory, and emotion, and time. To show her how I learned to replace pain with volatile blankness. Pouring out one toxic substance and imbibing another: sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter; sometimes amber, sometimes clear.\n\nI wanted to show her so that she would be proud. I wanted to show her that I had learned well. \n\nI reached for the receiver and read the note one more time.\n\ncall adeline. phone +34 567928\n\n\n[[I called a dead woman.]]
"[[I am the child.......]]"
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nThe whistle was inscribed with a name that had since been scratched out. There was a familiarity to it.\n\nI put the whistle to my lips and blew. The sound was hollow, dry, as if the pea had fallen out. \n\nI blew harder. The whistle shrieked. I began to see stars in the corners of my vision as pressure built behind my eyes.\n\nThen I heard it: a voice that seemed to grow denser the harder I blew, filling the space of the phone box. \n\nI tried to listen to what the voice was saying, but as I blew harder the stars began to supernova, caving the light and drawing in darkness that compelled me to [[turn and look]] at it. \n\nI forced the whistle away, gasping for breath.\n\nThe shrieking stopped but the voice remained, urging me to examine [[the notepad]] and [[the crumpled receipt]].\n\nThe voice called me Danny.
"[[I am the man.......]]"
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nTurning the book over in my hands I stared at the ad that covered the entire cover.\n\n//"Scared of the dark? We can lighten your mood! [[Call Jimmy's Lighting]] on 123569"//\n\nThe man in the picture winked at me. \n\nI paused, bringing the book closer. \n\nThe man winked again, making a gesture to call.\n\nI dropped the book. It hit the concrete with a crack that reverberated like a rifle shot.\n\nTrembling, I picked the phone book up, its pages feeling warm to touch.\n\nI looked at the man now inanimately beckoning me to call.\n\nI read the ad one last time.\n\n//"Scared of the dark? We can lighten your mood! [[Call Jimmy's Lighting]] on 123569"//
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nI moved to pickup the receiver and [[use the phone]].\n\nStopping myself, I wondered who I would call.\n\nWhere or when was the last time I had even seen a phone box let alone been in one?\n\nHow had I come to this place?\n\nI thought that I should [[examine my pockets]], or the [[phone book]] for clues.
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&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\n<<if visited("use the phone") is 0 and visited("Call Jimmy's Lighting") is 1>>\n\nPlacing the receiver to my ear I spun the rotary dial. Each rotation was followed by clicking as the wheel spun back to the starting position, interrupting the harmonic tone that seemed to emanate somewhere behind my eyes. Oscillations of energy coursed through my body. I spun the wheelin a seemingly endless cycle of clicks and harmonics. \n\nI closed my eyes and began to hum in tune with the tone, my being resonating with a warm frequency that dispelled the darkness outside. I felt suspended in warm water, buoyant, not knowing where I ended and the solution began.\n\nI opened my eyes and the tone stopped.\n \nThere was only silence.\n\nI pressed the phone harder against my ear.\n\nI heard a voice.\n\n"Mmmmmm. Ok, so you are trying to...." it trailed off again, "Oh that's right, you're trying to escape the darkness...blah blah....hallucinations....Winston County....Mmmm, ok."\n\nI tried to speak, but found myself unable to form any words. \n\nThe voice cut in again, “Oh yeah, don't try to speak. You won’t be able to. Mmmmm.... think of it like this, you're sort of, sort of in a fugue state right now, which is not to say that you ARE in a sort of fugue state, rather it's sort of like being in a sort of fugue state - ontologically speaking. It's kind of like you can't remember who or what or how you are, but do know you’re being superimposed into someone's imagination in a separate dimension, and you think you are that someone, but also at the same time an abstraction of someone else’s imagination, but really you are the first someone vicariously existing in the plane of the second someone's imagination. But also you are really here, talking to me....I think, yes...mmmmmmm," the voice trailed off again.\n\nAfter a short pause it said, "So yeah, a sort of, sort of fugue state - ontologically speaking. But that's why you can’t really speak, and by that I mean not at all, cause your consciousness is all muddled up right now. Which means - “it cut off, again being replaced by shuffling paper.\n\n"Oh shit, sorry I forgot you're a first timer. Ok, ok, ok, in that case I can't really say much more, but looking over your paper work, boy do you have some shit to work out. Well, what I can say, is that basically you're sort of pretty much stuck in a bit of a sort of a causal loop. An ontologically fugue statey loop. But don't worry about it too much, you'll be able to get out of it eventually. It'll just take some time. Just sort of figure out what that darkness that chasing you is, and, just stop being chased. I mean once you have an idea of what the darkness is, you pretty much gotta decide to stop, and once you decide to stop it will just happen, I guess. It can't end any other way. \n\n"Yeah, oh and by the way, you'll probably forget this ever happened, but someone, or someone else will remember, so don’t' worry, you'll be fine. Well, at least someone will be fine. Mmmmmmmmmm. \n\n"So, if this satisfies your query today I'd like to thank you for using Viratech and hope you choose again. From all of us at Viratech we wish the best of luck with this experience. Your loop will restart in [[3....2....1|start 2]]"\n\n<<else>>\n\nPlacing the receiver to my ear I spun the rotary dial. Each rotation was followed by clicking as the wheel spun back to the starting position, interrupting the harmonic tone that seemed to emanate somewhere behind my eyes. Oscillations of energy coursed through my body. I spun the wheel again and again in a seemingly endless cycle of clicks and harmonics. \n\nI closed my eyes and began to hum in tune with the tone, my being resonating with a warm frequency that dispelled the darkness outside. I felt suspended in warm water, buoyant, not knowing where I ended and the solution began.\n\nI opened my eyes and the tone stopped.\n\nI pressed the phone harder against my ear.\n\nThere was only silence.\n\nI went to examine [[the notepad]], the reprieve had dissipated. \n\nOnce again the darkness whispered for me to [[turn and look]]\n\n\n\n\n\n<<endif>>
&#: 1383<<print visited("start 2")>>\n\nI reached for the phone book. \n\nI trembled, feeling its weight in my hands, every ounce of my being screaming to me not to [[open the book]] but to [[inspect it further]].\n\nThe phonebook was for Winston County numbers\n\nBut.... that was impossible.
"[[I am the woman.......]]"