Stanley woke up to an almost dreamlike scenery. The sun was setting, the sky was pink and he could hear the sound of calm waves as if he were walking by the beach. He got out of bed and walked out the bedroom door, his house greeting him with an almost blinding light reflecting through his windows.
Something was wrong but he wasn’t quite sure what it was yet, so he bid his house farewell and walked out into the road. The town was eerily quiet that day. Stanley walked for several minutes but didn’t see so much as a car, much less a person roaming about. So, he took his time to look around before asking his friendly neighbourhood sunflower for assistance.
“You want help?” asked the sunflower. To which Stanley could only reply: “Yes, I was seeking human interaction but I haven’t seen anyone all day. I’ve yet to even see a vehicle move.” The sunflower snickered and replied: “Why, they must have all left for the party, how is it that you forgot about it?” before pointing up the road.
Visibly shaken, Stanley just nodded his head and walked up the road. What could be this party that the sunflower talked about? Is it really possible for an entire town to all be in the same place? Is it important enough that people weren’t even at work? Stanley did his best to drown out his doubts upon seeing an empty gas station and post office and just kept walking up the hill.
“Just how much further could the party be?” he wondered. As he ventured on, he saw the sky flicker for a bit, but after everything that had happened that day, he didn’t question it.
A few minutes later, he finally made it to a sign with “party” inscribed, pointing to a path in the forest. Hesitant, he walked down the path. “They’ve got to be there”, he thought. “They must be waiting for me”.
Eventually, the long winding path led him to a bright pink house in the middle of the woods, and Stanley heard a human voice for the first time all day. “Come inside” it beckoned, as the door slowly creaked open. Stanley bolted towards the door, excited to finally hear a voice, but before he could reach it, he stopped dead in his tracks.
There was no one in the doorway, not a soul in sight. Nobody outside and nobody inside the house. At that moment, the world started quickly flickering between being full of colour and only containing shades of gray, before a crackling zap sound ran out and left the world in near darkness.
It had never been day. In fact, it had never even been morning to begin with. Stanley looked up and saw the full moon lighting up everything just enough for him to see. He had already come this far, the only question that remained was whether he wanted to continue. After all, his original goal was gone. He was the only one here. The only they that there ever was, was he. Every voice, every whisper, every sound he had heard was all made by his own brain to keep him moving forward.
They had decided, and so Stanley entered the house and the door shut behind them violently. There was no going back. Stanley was going to finish what they started.
The house creaked with each step they took, each footstep echoing across the barren house. The house was empty, just a shell of old gray wood with some windows to let light through. Stanley didn’t have a flashlight,so they pushed on in the dark, up the stairs, turning a corner, and stopping in front of a closet door. Inside lay a red pentagram, obviously planted there in advance, with a goat skull hanging on the wall.
Have you realized yet, player? Well, I should really say reader in this scenario. All of this setup was for this one scene, for a single question. Do you enter? Do you go inside the closet despite not knowing what will happen or why a ritual circle seems to be inside? After all, Stanley never had a choice in all this. I, as the writer dictated whether he would move or stop, and you, as the reader, dictated whether that event would’ve happened in your mind.
So, if you wish, you could stop reading and pretend nothing ever happened to Stanley. Imagine that they turned around and went back home, going back to a normal life. However, if you’ve read this far, you’re likely curious, and in the same way that curiosity killed the cat, continuing will cause you to fall with him.
Stanley walked into the circle, the door violently closing behind him. The room was completely dark. However, this didn’t last long. Five candles lay at the corners of the pentagram and one by one, they lit up. A distant chanting started playing in Stanley’s mind and as it grew louder, Stanley felt compelled, forced to start chanting with it.
Their body slowly began to writhe and bulge out of control, with Stanley’s arms beginning to flail wildly, but Stanley didn’t turn around. They didn’t even try the door. They already knew that they couldn’t escape. Then, one limb at a time, Stanley’s parts lifted into the air like a puppet. Luckily, whatever superior forces may have taken him, slowly let him down.
Stanley was appreciated for his devotion and for never running away from the ritual. So, Stanley returned home without a soul in sight once again. It seems that he had never been in a normal universe to begin with. He was silly for ever hoping for human interaction.
“Perhaps going to sleep will solve my problems”, Stanley thought. Perhaps everything would be okay when he woke up and he wouldn’t get caught once again within the infinite cycle of loneliness. What Stanley didn’t know, is that he would forever be at the mercy and whims of others.
Writer: James Beaupré; Editor: Mia Bouchard; Picture: Google
