entrancelogs | [Open] The inevitable "creepy lab" level in video games

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[Open] The inevitable "creepy lab" level in video games

Who: Zacharie and you.
Where: The True Labs
When: Throughout the event.
Rating: PG for now. Will adjust if needed.
Summary: Zacharie got turned into a child (again). So what better to do then do some puzzles, chat up a weird thing in a bath tub, meet Endogeny and price out the DT Extractor?
The Story:

A) They see me puzzling.

[So Wonderland appears to get some measure of joy in turning Zacharie into a child. Maybe it was because the NPC never had a proper childhood, maybe it was because he was adorable as a kid or simply because it liked reminding him he was doomed to be short regardless of whether or not he was an adult or a child. Who knows? Either way, he's a kid again and in a lab that is somewhat of a staple of every single horror video game.

Not that Zacharie's particularly frightened. Coming from a game that was surreal horror itself, he feels right at home. Just needed a few ghosts and a baseball-themed purifier and he'd be good to go. He's still got his backpack full of items but it was doubtful anyone was going to buy from him right now. So onto the next best thing: puzzles.

Honestly, Zacharie likes these kinds of puzzles. They're pretty easy to do and the pictures turn out nice, even if that's clearly not the objective here. So anyone can find a small child in a mask bent over one of the puzzles, snapping the pieces together. Those who know Zacharie will probably notice his mask is a different one once again. This time around it's blank with a wide smile drawn on it and nothing else.

Don't ask how he can see without eye holes. You don't want to know.]

B) At least it isn't in a toilet.

[Once the puzzles are done Zacharie takes a walk to find the keys. The lab is a heck of a lot bigger then it looks and he knows it's going to take awhile before he finds anything, or someone will simply beat him to the punch. It doesn't really matter much but it'd be fun to be the one to find a hidden item rather than just hand out hints and watch things unfold. Be a bit more productive, step out of your comfort zone.

Or something like that.

Eventually his wanderings lead him to a long hallway with a tub at the end that had its curtains drawn. And a...thing moving back and forward. Weird. Zacharie simply stares at it before speaking.]

Hello there, my friend. I hate to interrupt your rhythmic swaying but I wish to take a look in the tub. Do you mind vacating it for a moment?

[It doesn't respond and continues swaying away. Zacharie stares a bit longer before asking again. He's been paying attention to the network so he knows these creatures are harmless for the most part, so maybe he has to talk it out.

Or he could just walk forward, but Zacharie doesn't know that.]

C) The immortal stalker...?

[So apparently having more meat then you know what to do with on your person attracts dogs when it's not attracting a certain pair of cats.

Zacharie stares up at Endogeny, who has been following him for a good while now. Again he knows that the Amalgamates are harmless but the size difference is unnerving, along with ago-old instincts were starting to creep up on the merchant. Ah to be young again. But the melting dog(s?) kind of takes priority here.]

Yes, I certainly agree that the Meats of Alma are excellent but sadly I cannot give you everything that is in my bag. Ah, but! [Zacharie sees the Amalgamate's ears droop and drops his bag, digging around for a moment before producing a cut of Silver Flesh.] I can give you this.

[It kind of engulfs Zacharie's arm in an effort to get at the Meat but he pulls back fast enough that he doesn't lose too much there. That appears to make Endogeny happy and it quickly bounds into a play bow, tail wagging. Not quite what Zacharie had been hoping for but what the heck. He'll play.

He's not from the right game to say he equipped a stick but he tosses it away and watches Endogeny give chase. Hopefully nobody was in that direction or they're going to be in for a surprise!]

D) And the dark secret of the whole level.

[The post on the network explaining about things mentioned a machine that looked like a skull and Zacharie wanted to take a look. Not touch it, just look. Maybe price it out for giggles because he can.

It takes a bit for him to actually get into the area, however. Someone was standing guard and Zacharie didn't have firm control over his abilities at this point. So he more or less had to wait until they left and then slip in.

The machine is much, much bigger than he thought it would be and there's a childish urge to climb it. Brought back a number of memories of climbing around Zone 0 even if you didn't get anywhere. But instead of doing that Zacharie clasps his hands behind his back and walks up to the machine, inspecting it without touching.

He's clearly looking for something, but what? Feel free to ask if you want. Or just kick him out of the room since "kids" shouldn't be in here.]

E) We need more horror troops.

[ooc: Got a different prompt in mind or want something specific? Hit me up at

embracetheweeb

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[Guess there was an on switch after all.

Funny thing about panic attacks mean you don't notice things that are not part of the world that has shrunk on you. All Zacharie is aware of is the mask on the ground beneath him and black sludge dripping on his hands. That's normal. That's normal it's normal because it's always been like this because he wasn't programmed with a face and

And there's something behind Zacharie. It's going to catch him and pry apart his mind again and the NPC won't remember waking up or he'll never wake up at all. This won't run on the logic that it won't happen if he doesn't look at It, it's a jumpscare that will kick in whether Zacharie likes it or not. It's happened before. It'll happen again.

It's not enough to fear the dark Zacharie. You will learn to fear the light.

Whatever is happening to him is only takes a few seconds, a minute or two at best, but it feels like hours. But eventually he hears the roar of the machine coming to life and has a second to grab his mask before something hits him.

He thinks he's screaming. Zacharie can't tell. There's no limit on characters that can be entered into a string of code to make up someone like him but this feels like a limit has been somehow found.

.....it hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurtsithurtsithurtsstopstopstopstop fucking--

Zacharie doesn't know when he finally falls off the machine, only that there's a sickening crunch when he lands. He's not sure if he's even wearing his mask or where Tim is now. He's...probably busy as well, isn't he?]

[Hypocrite.

The word nets easily into Tim's vocabulary. He knows what he is; what he has to be, after everything he's said and done. After the lives he's doomed and the people he's hurt, after the sheer inescapability of his purpose, it's just - what he is. Its puppet, Its plaything, a liar, and a hypocrite.

A hypocrite who utterly destroys everything he touches.

For all his warnings and fears and anger, he's still the one that hits the switch. He's the one that sends it all downward-spiraling, unintentional or no. Can't help being born broken, but shouldn't he at least be able to prevent himself from inflicting that same brokenness on everyone else?

The machine awakens like some lumbering, sentient thing, and he gets almost no time to react whatsoever. There's nothing but the blinding impression of something pulling at the thin thread of a Something buried in his chest, and his hands flutter weakly over his ribcage, over the absurd, cartoonish heart shape that briefly flits out.

Red as madder, and stained ever darker.

The thing isn't making the sound when his thoughts finally settle into some form of alignment. The place is silent but for the ragged syncopation of their breathing, pitched upward with apparent terror. His cheek stings where it hit the damp tile. He must have, at some point - hit the ground. The blood roars in a pulsing, arrhythmic thud that echoes in his ears with an unnerving immediacy, like he's approached and then passed an asymptote of some kind, like he's done something - something very, very Wrong.

He jerks to his feet with an alarming alacrity, staggering back, his eyes wild.]

Z-Zacharie?

[He's...on the floor. Lying there like he's hit something important. Shit. No.

He swallows hard, scrambling to his side.]

N-no, no no no no no, c'mon, I didn't - I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to, I swear!

[Something broke, he thinks. Something broke and Zacharie's not sure if it's bone or soul or something else.

There's something in his hands but it's not a mask. He has no idea where that went and for once Zacharie absolutely cannot care that someone can see his face. He'd apologize for the sickening feeling that might come over Tim if he looks at it. The NPC was programmed without one so the other man would be looking at something that's never been there in the first place. Just two large white dots that hide what he used for eyes and a pure white smile. He's smiling despite it all. He can't stop.

Zacharie doesn't answer Tim despite being conscious. He just closes his hands tighter around whatever is in his hands. The NPC, being made up of code, didn't have a SOUL in the strictest sense. No matter how many pretty colors were attributed to him, it would come out as an invisible, empty thing.

Maybe that was the fate of someone who's been purified. Maybe not. How many times has he said 'maybe' in regards to himself? It was popular for certain characters to have multiple-choice pasts but there was a limit! There was a limit on how much he could take!

But you know how this is going to end, right Zacharie? You know how the book ends, you know how the game finishes. Omniscience. The role of the merchant was yours, you said that you would not doom anyone else to it so you have to stay. These are your consequences so deal with it. Deal with the fallout you never had to face back home. Deal with a world that never ends.]

.....I am fine Tim. I am fine, I am fine, I promise I am okay. Everything is okay so you don't have to worry you don't hav͘e̵ ̵to̧ lo͢ok͟ a͟t me d̡̀on'͏t̛ ̴lo͝͡o͜͠͠k̵̢͡ do̷̢͜n̷̸͡'̨t͏ ̀́̕lo̧o̧҉ķ̀͟ ̀͞Ì͘͡͡ ̷̧͞h̵̕a̸͟͟͝v̸̕e̷̡͘ ǹ̴̛̀͞ó̡͟t̨h͞i̷͟͟n͏͜g̸̡̡ ̴̛́f̴́͡o̴̕ŗ̷̀ ̷̛́y҉̧̀ơ̡͞u͝͞ ҉͘s͏͘͞͞o̷̢ ̵̷̷̛s͏͜͏̸t̷̨͝o͜͢͢͢p̵̷̀͠͝ ̧̀͜l̢̡̕͞͝o̵͘͘͞͏ó́҉̵̛ḱ͠͡i̧̧n̵̛͘͜͜g̷̢͏̡͜ ̵̢̀s̨̕͞͡t̴̢̀́ò̴̸̧͝p̴͏̶ ̶̵̡̛͢ş͠t̀҉o̴̕p̷̢̕͜ ̶̛͟Ś̷͘͞T̨̀ǪP̶̧͜͝ ̵̴̧҉̶-̀҉-҉̢̕ ̸̛́͠͡!͏̴

[His SOUL vanishes and Zacharie's hands wrap around his own throat. Not to hurt himself. No. The merchant can't die but he could and there was so much blood.]

[There's so much blood because he's had his throat slit by a blade before and even though it was a single sentence in the grand scheme of things it still hurt so much, it hurt to feel pride and rage at the same time and the Toad King was choking on his own blood as the masked man stood above because only one person could win.

Only one. And the winner was determined from the start. He had told Frisk as much when he plunged his own weapon into his stomach.

He thinks he understand how it feels now.

The world begins to unravel in a way it never has before. What remains tightens around him and Zacharie feels everything bottom out as the Determination injected into code begins to overwhelm him. It's safer if he has this it's safer with a mask it's fine it's fine it's f́͘͢i͟͞n̴è ̧f͜͟i҉͟n̢͟e͘͡ ͡͞fi̸͟͟n̢͡͝e̢͏͞

FIND ME. HELP ME.

<>Play sound: ZachTlk
<>Change Face Graphics: le batteur, 12, Left
<>Message: The characters are starting to die, aren't they?
<>Message: Ahahaha.

<>Switch Operations: [00000000000000000000000: ????? - zacharie] ON
<>

<>Show Choices: Save game/Cancel
:[Save game] Handler
<>Open Save Menu............................................]

[<>Save Menu Access: Forbid
<>Label: 1
<>Message: IF this text is hard to read,
YOU HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG.

The NPC's body jerks as it glitches out horribly. His mind isn't here, not sure if he teleported away from Tim or if he's still in the room and which room was it 256 room_truelab_determination this is it, isn't it? He's not breathing but an NPC he doesn't technically need to breathe but he'd better soon or he was going to pass out.

Or he has already. This might all just be in the NPC's head. But he doesn't dream in errors, doesn't dream much lately because the NPC was too afraid of waking up and not knowing where he was and what it could do to him and It will do something worse than just kill him, It'll--

But it's fine. It's fine just fast_text_skip and move on it'll be okay. 25 is a magic number because it means you don't have to deal with all this unneeded dialog. Fewer words and more action, right? Riiiiiiight.

Move along.]

[252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252022032042059999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

SEE YOU]

I'm...ahahha. Here. Here. There's nothing but the void after me.

[There's nothing else left. Nothing else left nothing else, but that's fine because that's the way the game worked. There was no hope of recovery, just continuation. They can't stop, even the Puppeteer can't stop because they want to come back to those they love and that's what saves and ruins the world because they love us

And.

And.

He can understand why his Mirror despises that love.]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry Scure. I'm sorry Pablo. I'm sorry Valerie. I'm so sorry

[It's all he has. It's all he's ever had.]

[He's done something wrong. He's done something very, very wrong and he's going to keep fucking up, because that's what he does, that's what he's always done. There's something warping his chest, hammering in his throat like his vocal cords are torn and bleeding, sending something hot and wet dribbling down his esophagus. Something that makes him feel, bizarrely -

Better.

Until he looks at the man's face.

A face of what should look like a child, a human child, but doesn't. But doesn't, because it's just something black and empty and rancid and dripping thickly to the ground, two scintillating white dots and an empty white slash of a mouth and he jerks backwards, mouth gaping in a soundless cry of terror.

He was so afraid.

He was so afraid It would find him, and twist him into Its puppet the same way it did to Tim.

He was so afraid.

But nothing else would ḽ̛̩ŏ̧͚o͙̅͠k͚̏̅ ļ͙i͚̲ͣk̓̔̋e͌ t̩͒̈h̸̹̉ȁt͚͋͌ unless I̻ͣͩt̯̑᷁ ẁ̼ͩa̦͒̿s᷆̍ -

A litany of apologies to people Tim doesn't know and doesn't understand, but he does understand the need to ground yourself, to remind yourself of what's real, something to ground you, something to dig you fingers into and pull so that it never dissipates and never dies, so that you know that you're alive.

Even with the layer of static laid flat over his skull, the bright pins-and-needles tingle of having looked at something he never should have seen, the rapid-fire stutter of his thoughts trying to pierce through the patina of that bleak, surreal emptiness, he recognizes it.]

C-c'mon, Zacharie. Talk to me. P-please.

[It's natural, it's normal and that little bit of himself that wasn't there was a little grounding because it's something Zacharie has. It's his it's his it's his it's--]

Still here. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here I'm here I'm here I'm scared of the dark return home go home to your cradle young child child child--

[He lets go of his throat just to claw at the sludge that made up his face, getting it under his nails and it's dirty but there's scars under here if one touched but only one person could and she was

Dead. Dead dead dead they were all dead and it was his fault it didn't matter if he reached out during that dream with Mettaton or not it wouldn't change facts. They're all going to die because the player loves them all and wants to see it and the Batter wanted things to end and it's better like that.

No. No no no no nononononononononono, it was fine. 25. Just need that number in a line of code and all of this could be skipped and it would go back to normal. Move on. Please god, move on

2525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525252525nononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono---]

.....ahahha. Ahhahahhah!

[You want to talk? Sure.

I'm here.

I'm always here.]

...I see you.

[He's smiling and It's smiling through him and it and the NPC can see, and isn't it strange to be able to see out of fake eyes this time around?

Isn't it?

Isn't it?

The NPC's body jerks in a manner that isn't normal. A manner like he's trying to remember exactly how his body worked to begin with. Who knows where his mask went, but that didn't matter. What mattered right now was talking. And it can indulge a little bit.

Despite the NPC's preference of action to words, he was quite chatty.]

I see you. I see you. I can see you, I always could. I am here right now before you Tim and you fear the light as much as he fears the dark and I'm here because there's nothing left for us now and everyone is guilty of that. There's nothing but dust and gunpowder and I am still here--

[Zacharie cuts himself off by digging his fingers deeper into his 'skin'. There's no blood, there's no danger of him Burning like in Tim's dream. This may be a bad dream and one day maybe they both could wake up.

But for now they'll have to live with It. Isn't that so much Fun?]

[None of what he's saying makes any sense. If it was unnerving to see the implacable merchant so scared the first time It advanced on the pair of them, it's even more so now - watching him convulse, a long list of nonsensical, seemingly unrelated phrases tangle out of his mouth.]

It's - I didn't - I didn't mean to, I swear!

[He can't return to his cradle. They should've burned the thing down, but they didn't, and now he's here. And they should all hate him for it, they should all -

And then he looks at him.

And then he looks at him.

The full force of a face that shouldn't exist, a face that isn't a face, and words that cut beneath the skin and a chill that races up his spine.]

N-no. No, I didn't -

[He didn't mean to.

He never does.

But It gets to everyone in the end. It gets to you, It's gotten to him, and now It's inside him, and whose fault is that, exactly? Whose fault is that, Tim?

He can't look at that face, that face that looks so horribly like a photo-negative of the thing that has to be talking, that's using him the way it used Alex, and he did it, he did this, he ruined it all over again and oh god oh god.]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry!

[The shriek rebounds off the walls as he scrambles back, retreating. Trying to make a break for it. His limbs should be locked up, frozen in indecision - but he feels about ready to scale a mountain, tear across the face of the earth.

He almost feels -

determined.

Almost like he isn't afraid anymore.]

[Like he's about to drag himself forward, until he's facing that thing and staring it down again. Because It's taken everything from him. It's taken everything.

It won't take this too.

He doesn't have any of that synthetic courage, a fistful of medicated willpower he could choke down. But for a moment, for a moment - it feels like he doesn't need it.]

I'm not scared of you.

[He's not scared of you.

Do you hear him?

He watched them all burn. Jay. Brian. Alex. Seth. Sarah. Amy.

He lost them all. He watched them all fall to pieces. Watched nameless men get their skulls caved in, for the simple crime of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. He watched them fall, one by one.

So maybe, for once in his life - maybe he's got the determination to do something about.]

I'm not scared of you.

So you let him go.

Consequences. Consequences consequences there are consequences for you both being you and these are yours and he will find his one day. The idea of helping people with a goal that's ultimately futile. Do you know what it means to be the merchant of a game like this? Do you know what it means when 'Game over' is the only good ending?

[Do you?

Well, of course Tim does. He's just never reached that far. That sort of ending was not for him...or maybe he was just a coward. There's only so far you can go before you have to get someone else to lend a helping hand.

But that's elsewhere. And It's never been somewhere so white that It could spread out. And Tim's bravery? His newfound Determination? Dust in the wind.

It only takes one death to become irredeemable. Just one. It didn't matter in one world, mattered in the other and it was whatever it was in anything else. Didn't matter here. Tim would come back, one way or another.

And this puppet? Was very, very interesting.]

Oración.

[Suddenly there is the smell of sugar in the air...]

[* ...but nothing happens.

Zacharie's body convulsed again and he starts coughing and wheezing. It didn't realize the limits of what he was capable of, as the merchant and the guide he was incapable of combat until he trained back up, couldn't reach those high-tier spells until he grinds someone's life under his heel or is killed by that same person. Pride and rage. Greed and apathy.

Just start talking. That was what Tim wanted before you left, before It came.]

Sorry. Sorry sorry, I'm back. It's me it's me again it's safe. I just need space. I just need to go j̀͞ư̢̨s͝͏͠t͏̶͟ ̷n̴͘͟é̴͘ȩd̷̛҉ ̡a̢͞͞ mińu̸t͡e̷͡ j҉̸ú͟҉s̷̷t ͠n̡͠e̢e͏̧͝d̵͠ ͡t̴͏o̧ ͝b̴r̶̛ęa̕t̴̀h̶̢è͡ ag̵͝ą͏ì͏n̛ s͏̕͢͞o̷̴͘͢͞ḿ̴̢́͟é̴̛͢͜t͏҉͝h̷̵́͠į̴͠n͡͏ǵ̀̀͢'̵ş̶̸ ҉͘͏w͏̧̀r̴̨̛o̢̢̕͜͠ǹ̕͢͠g̸̵̷̵̕ ̸̨͜Į̧̕'͜͢҉m̸̴̸͟ ̀̀͘͟g̸̴̛҉o̴̕͏͞i̢̕̕n̡͢͠g҉̧͜͜͟ ̵͠t͡ơ̷͞͞ ́͢c̢͞r̸͜ą͢͝s҉͡҉͜͞h̴̨ ̴̛̛͢͡a̷̛͞͏g̵̢̨͘a̴̢̕͝i̡̢͢͝͠n̶̶̨͢

[* You call for help.

]

* ...ahahah.

[The NPC is laughing because even petty victories counted. Spite certainly was a motivator.

And above everything, somewhere in the mess that was his mind right now, Zacharie knew he had to get away from Tim. Not because he was hurting the NPC or making things worse. Zacharie could hear it. Could see it.

"I'm not scared of you. So you let him go."]

It's okay. It's okay. From now on, there will be no more darkness. I promise. No more LOVE. Can't fail conversations with me.

[It takes a lot more concentration than usual. It has stopped pushing his buttons, so it's not like Zacharie's actually managing to fight It off or anything. He's not that strong. It's just pulling the scattered bits of 'Zacharie' and his code together to pull off one last magic trick that takes awhile.

He smiles a bit wider than normal and then he's suddenly gone again. Zacharie isn't sure where he'll wind up, probably somewhere deep in the Lab. Maybe even where everyone's bodies are so that isn't a problem.

Either way, it'll be okay. Zacharie promises.]

[He's not making any sense.

He's still not. Or maybe he just never was. There's a whiff of something hard and sweet, cutting through the air, almost stinging his nostrils with the intensity of it, and he says another word Tim doesn't understand.

From now on, there will be no more darkness. No more...love?

He opens his mouth. To shout It out, to tell It to leave, or maybe just to ask what's happening, why he feels like this, to say that he's sorry he ruined everything, stumbling into that stupid machine after all the insisting he did that it would go wrong, catalyzing things going wrong in the first place like he always does.

But before he can say anything at all, Zacharie's gone.

There's no spritz of static, no distorting of the world, no rippling folds of some plane shifting while everything else stays the same. He blinks, and that unnatural smile sears itself into the dark of his eyelids with every blink that follows.

For a long moment that follows, all he can do is drag in breath after rattling breath as the scattered pieces of himself struggle to ascribe some sense of meaning to what just happened.

But he doesn't.

And he can't.

He just has to leave before anyone else finds him here.]

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[Open] The inevitable "creepy lab" level in video games

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1/? cw for dissociation for the whole thing

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Done

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1/2

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