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MORGELLONIC ZONES
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A shaft like a mundane hallway but rising up through the ceiling and there is a large room with carpet on every surface and it is far too large but no great ruin, such an ordinary room like a cheap house unfurnished it makes you dizzy as if you suddenly shrank down and were not only lost in this place but lost all scale of yourself and become microorganic.
The difficulty of scaling up and down the vertical hallway is also a source of dread. If anything should come from below that had been silently following. Or if anything should come from the dark corners of this far too vast room. For it is so large that it draws dark at each vertex, receding diamonds of black at the four corners of the floor and the four corners of the ceiling. There is an initial urge to explore, even if it seems empty. To see if there is something on the floor you missed, or even to fulfill the curiosity of the corners. But the naked openness of the room, while deceptively traversable to the eye, is not easy on the legs. It takes longer than you think to approach the corner, and the darkness grows slowly and awfully around you. You feel the stamina draining from your legs, and know to run on this carpet would be like running on sand. The corner is now much larger than it was from the center of the room. It rises above you like the mouth to a dusky canyon. You lose the reference point of the walls around it which were already at a disturbing scale and now in their absence are wronger still.
You step back toward the shaft. To assure yourself of the rope. You stare at the corner to make sure nothing comes from it. And another step. And another. There is a great feeling of pressure. Of being watched. Static electricity rises like a wind, and your feet sink into the carpet.
