Hall of Infinite Doors
You tear through the paper door and find yourself inside of another room.
Bright lights burn from the ceiling, forming beads of sweat on your neck. It dribbles down your spine, tingling your every nerve.
Ahead of you is a large mass of hundreds and hundreds of cardboard boxes, all piled up on top of eachother.
To the left of you is a toy soldier army, arranged in a creative juxtaposition that seems to be guarding something. The billions of miniscule plastic men stretch on for a mile, and you strain your eyes to see what could be beyond them.
You stand there, scratching your crotch with one hand and biting the thumb nail of your other hand.
Bright lights burn from the ceiling, forming beads of sweat on your neck. It dribbles down your spine, tingling your every nerve.
Ahead of you is a large mass of hundreds and hundreds of cardboard boxes, all piled up on top of eachother.
To the left of you is a toy soldier army, arranged in a creative juxtaposition that seems to be guarding something. The billions of miniscule plastic men stretch on for a mile, and you strain your eyes to see what could be beyond them.
You stand there, scratching your crotch with one hand and biting the thumb nail of your other hand.