A light flickered, casting strange shadows against the dingy walls of the room. A room... but where? Arnan sat up, bringing a hand to his forehead. He blacked out earlier... but he had been inside the factory where he worked, and this was what appeared to be an old, cluttered office of some sort. Maybe someone had taken him there to recover, but if they had, why was he in a heap on the floor? Trying to gather his thoughts, he looked around the room. The swaying lamp above him was the only light source, and it took him a moment to focus on his surroundings. Next to him was a desk, the drawers ripped out and their contents strewn about the floor. A painting had been torn off the wall and was laying face-down across the room. Aside from the disarray, everything was normal, if a little dirty.
Standing, Arnan dusted himself off. His right hand brushed against a wrench in his utility belt. He was headed down to repair a malfunctioning unit when he blacked out, and now all his tools but the wrench were missing. Odd. As he wrapped his fingers around the cold metal, he felt a twinge of anxiety and glanced nervously over his shoulder. Nothing different, just the desk and scattered items, but he couldn't shake the feeling that had crept into him so suddenly.
Making sure the wrench was secure in his belt, he walked to the door. The knob felt loose and creaked as he turned it. Once the door was open enough to let the shadows from the darkened hallway seep in, the air was violently sucked out of the room and the door slipped from his grasp, hitting the outside wall with a hollow crash. Heart racing, he realized that he had snatched the wrench from his belt and was now wielding it as though it were a weapon. Why he needed anything to use as a weapon in his workplace, he couldn't answer. Then again, was he really in the factory? Peeking around the door frame, he saw the hallway was completely dark, save one light at the far end. He checked the other way, only to find a single door that appeared to be rusted shut. Rust? Nothing in the building was that old, at least none of it that he had ever seen. Perhaps this was a steam room or something similar, and just this particular door had become corroded.
Looking a bit closer, he noticed it wasn't just the door. Even though it was dark and hard to see, he could tell the entire hall had a dull, rusty tint to it. The uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach, but he felt he needed to keep going, as though staying in one place too long was dangerous.
A chill ran up his spine, and he decided to head towards the light at the far end of the hallway. Maybe he would run into someone who could tell him where he was, but he thought it best to keep quiet for now. No sense in running around yelling for people who might not even be there. What had prompted him to think that, about keeping quiet? It wasn't like there was anything he needed to hide from. Wait, anything? He shuddered.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," he said quietly to himself, "and I'll wake up if something bad happens." He shook his head. "It certainly feels like I'm in a dream right now." Gripping his wrench, he started feeling his way along the wall.
No sooner had he placed his hand on the ruddy wall, he pulled it away, frowning at the reddish flakes that were stuck to his fingers. What if he gouged his arm on a piece rusted metal, with no first aid kit on hand? This wouldn't do, wandering around a rusty hallway where he could barely see anything. He automatically reached into his pockets to pull out his work gloves, but they too were missing. Great, he thought, first my tools and now my gloves. Who took all my things while I was passed out? As he pondered this, he realized it was very odd he had blacked out at all. It wasn't something that had ever happened to him before, and he was in good health - better than most, even.
Pushing all these thoughts aside, he refocused on the idea of reaching the end of the hallway. Standing an arm's length from either side of the walls, he stepped cautiously forward towards the dim light. With one arm slightly back for balance and one arm forward, clutching his heavy wrench, he felt himself relax a little. Why holding a tool like it was a weapon made him feel safe, he hadn't the faintest idea. But then again, he had no idea where he was, and it was quite possible he needed to be prepared to defend himself, though from what, he didn't want to think about. Slowly approaching the end of the hallway, he felt a dampness in the air, accompanied by a faint, coppery smell. The factory where he worked did process copper, so the abnormal smell made sense, but something about the atmosphere seemed... off.
Trying not to let his unusual surroundings get the best of him, he stood in front of the door beneath the light. This door was surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the hallway, and he made sure to have a firm grasp on the doorknob this time. Slowly pulling it open, he peeked into the next room. It wasn't much better lit than the hallway. Creeping inside, he closed the door behind him and started to make his way around the room.
BKKOOOOOOM. He leapt back towards the wall at the thunderous sound, heart pounding once again. His wrench poised menacingly above him, he realized the sound he heard was just thunder. It must be storming outside, he thought to himself. He went to the nearest window to check, but it was too dark to see anything. Then he noticed the window was boarded up from the outside. The other windows were like that, too. Leaning close, he listened for any outside noises. He couldn't hear anything that sounded like rain, and after another moment of silence, he began to wonder if the noise he heard really was thunder. If not that, then what was it that made such a loud noise?
As he pondered this, a shimmer on the floor caught his eye. Walking over, he saw a key on the ground with a strange light glinting off it. He bent over to pick up the key, and the light vanished. Confused, he caught sight of a small beam trailing off onto the wall and disappearing again. He noticed a quick flash above him from a small hole in the ceiling, lined up almost perfectly with where the key had been on the floor. Was someone shining a light down on him? If someone was there, why hadn't he said anything? Inspecting the key, he saw the numbers B94 engraved on one side. Apparently someone wanted him to have this key.
Or did he? Maybe the person had dropped the key and if fell through the hole, and while looking for it realized that someone was in the room. That meant someone else was here in the building… but should he go looking for him? Arnan paused, still holding the key in one hand and his wrench in the other. Well… should he look for the person? Or maybe he should look for a room that the key could open. The 'B' possibly meant it was a room in the basement. How many floors did this building have, anyway?
Ugh, too many questions. He sat down in a dusty chair to sort his thoughts. "All right, I blacked out, woke up in a strange building, walked down a rusty hallway, found a key that someone was shining a light on through a hole in the ceiling, and have been holding a tool like a club the entire time." No, that didn't sound crazy at all. Sticking the key in his pocket, he sighed and rested a hand on his forehead. If this was a dream, he would have woken up by now. He tested that by pinching his cheek.
"Ow."
Nope, not a dream… which made his situation much, much worse.