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I awaken in a violent coughing fit. Instinctively, I roll over to spit out whatever is caught in my throat. My head throbs in pain as I dislodge the phlegm I nearly choked on. Eyes creaking open, I become aware of my surroundings, my palms now covered in small cuts as I realize the floor beneath me is paved in broken bits of debris. I retreat back onto my mattress. Only now do I notice the mattress is damp and covered in dark stains.

This isn't my bed. I struggle to look around with a pounding headache. Wherever I am, it looks like a basement, one that's tilted at an uncomfortable angle which only seems to worsen my migraine. Rotting garbage is piled up around the room. Along one wall is a series of posters that have been eaten away beyond recognition, leading my eyes up the stairs to a door that has been left ajar. I can see a pale-blue glow seeping out from the other side of the door.

I stumble to my feet, relieved to know that whoever or whatever brought me here left me with my boots to brave the glass-covered floor. Heading towards the stairs, I lose my footing and fall into what looks like it might be a washing machine. With a loud clang, I knock over a box that had been balanced on the top of the machine. I freeze for a moment. Believing nothing heard me, I pick up the box to put it back. Glancing at the box, I get a sinking feeling. The box is a pale purple and deep blue. At the top, it simply reads "Cereal." The rest is completely blank. I set the box down and reach toward the railing. It's oddly soft, it feels rotten. I hoist myself over to the stairs and pull myself towards the door, each step creaking quietly.

The hall is bathed in the blue light, more rotting trash piled up along the halls. I creep towards a large window set just above an old metal radiator. I press my face to the glass. Unable to see anything, I turn my attention back to the hall. I find myself in an alcove with what looks like the front door. I grip the nob and pull with all my might. It's not locked, it's more like a solid wall with a handle bolted on. This combined with the "Cereal" box gives me the impression that I'm not in a house, more something that just looks like a house. This idea is cemented further once I notice a clock on the wall but the face is completely blank. The hands move but not like they should. The second hand moves much less frequently than it should. The minute hand seems to creep backward. This whole place is a facade built from a faulty memory.

Further down the hall a ceiling fan turns slowly, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Below the fan is a large set of wooden double doors, stuck slightly open. I sneak closer to the door, noticing the sound of people eating. Dropping to my knees, I scoot towards the door. Looking through the crack in the doors I see rotting trash piled high all around the room and on a large dining-room table in the middle of the room. Three figures painted blue by the same pale light sit around the table. The head of the first blocks my view of the other two. I watch as they grab at the pile of rotting food between them, their hands tipped with needlessly long and slender fingers. They stuff the slop into their mouths before spitting the scraps into their hands, flinging them into the piles around the room. I can't help but watch as they continuously gulp food down.

The creatures turn their heads to the door as if they know I'm here. Opening their mouths they fill my head with a horrible shrieking forcing me awake. Nearly choking on my own spit, I find myself sat on a damp mattress. Looking around I see a door at the top of a small set of stairs, an eerie blue glow seeps through the crack in the door.