The Summons: Someone's Record
We're still wandering this goddamn mansion. Or can you even call it a mansion? We clearly went through a door, but all that's in front of us are endless yellow rooms. No windows, no furniture, not even a clock. The only thing is the buzzing noise from the old fluorescent light on the ceiling, circling my ears. It feels like it's eating away at my brain. Rick's already losing it, whining nonstop. Fuck, that bastard's so damn loud. I tried reassuring him that we'll find the exit if we keep looking a bit more, but honestly, I'm not sure either. This place... yeah, the space itself is twisted.
At least I can still keep this record. I'm grateful for that.
I'm starving. I devoured all the jerky and water I brought yesterday. Still no exit. No matter how far I walk, it's the same rooms, same hallways, same smell. I tried tearing the wallpaper to leave a mark, but when I came back hours later, it was perfectly restored. Feels like we're trapped in the belly of some massive creature. Rick can barely walk now. You bastard, you think it's easy for me? I considered carrying him, but my body's heavy as lead too, so I gave up. Damn it, we just came to loot an empty dungeon—why the hell are we suffering like this? I posted on Adventurer Gallery, but no one believes me. They just mock me, saying no such dungeon exists. Fuck. Whoever made this dungeon is a total asshole. If I get out, I'll kill that bastard first. No mercy!
So hungry! Starving! My throat's burning up. I even licked the wallpaper hoping for some moisture. It tasted like rotten mold mixed with metal—disgusting. Rick's curled up in the corner, mumbling nonsense. Driving me insane! He's so loud I want to sew his mouth shut. Can't you just shut up? Ha, gotta hold it together. Losing my temper here won't help anyone—least of all me. Better conserve my strength.
Starving. So hungry. Hungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungry. Rick... looks delicious. I know it's crazy. I know I'm going mad. But every time I see his plump arms, my mouth waters. He can't even walk anymore anyway. He's basically a corpse barely breathing. Better one of us survives than both starving to death, right? He'll understand. We're comrades. Yeah, I heard sacrificing for a comrade is noble. Rick, you're hungry too, right? Me too. Let's end each other's suffering.
The hunger's gone. Feels good to be full again. The fresh meat was a bit tough, but after so long, even the blood tasted sweet. Rick was a good guy. Helpful to the end. I packed his remains in my bag—emergency rations. I feel stronger now. My head's clearer too. Time to search for the exit again. Kinda lonely alone, but at least no more whining. Sorry, Rick. I'll get out alive. For both of us.
Walked and walked. Nothing changes. Still just yellow wallpaper and buzzing noise. Does this place even have an end? Or am I just going in circles? The meat in my bag's running low. Gotta ration it now. Don't wanna get hungry again. Above all, it's lonely. So lonely I vented on Adventurer Gallery and got banned. Fuck that mod bastard. Dismisses my words as bullshit, treats me like a troll—how could I not get pissed?
Exhausted. Can't walk anymore. Slumped against the wall, staring at it. The yellow wallpaper ripples. Mocking me. This is hell. An endless void of nothing. Wish a monster would show up. Better to die fighting than wither away like this. Thirsty. Hungry. Rick, were you suffering too? But you smell rotten now. Don't wanna eat it. But if I don't, I'll starve. What to do? Ah, fuck it. It'll work out somehow.
Fingers... tasty. Bag meat ran out, no choice. Hurt at first, but chewing it, it's nutty. Left pinky. Then ring finger. If I can't get out anyway, who needs fingers? Just keep the right hand for writing. But why do I keep laughing? Hehe... hehehe... Rick, wanna try? Oh, no mouth. I ate it all. Sorry, hogging the tasty stuff. But you were delicious.
Finally get it. This isn't a maze. It's yellow hell. No exit from the start. We were just food swallowed into a giant gut. Can't get out. No one can find us. Hahahahahaha. Gonna die. Or am I dead already? Please... someone get me out... Anyone. Even a demon. Please make this yellow go away...
No idea how much time has passed. Being here forever, time feels gone. Can't even twitch a finger. Wait, no fingers left to twitch. Just thumb and index on my right hand to grip the pen. But even this hand's doomed. Too... hungry. Hehe, fluorescent buzzing's getting louder. Gonna burst my head. Wallpaper... alive, moving. Coming for me. Yellow... yellow... Fuck, all yellow... Mom... wanna go home... Guess I'll never get out. If someone finds this record... please... don't come here. No exit... If you're already in... you'll die just like me.
- The record ends here. Bloodstains were messily scattered across the paper.
Intruders have entered the dungeon.
10 AM. Right in the middle of work, the status window popped up.
What the? Intruders already?
Of all times, someone invades my dungeon while I'm at the office.
Eh, no worries.
The first remodel on my dungeon was already done. I smirked faintly and closed the alert window.
My first defense system for the abandoned mansion dungeon. Not monsters, not traps.
The space itself.
'Backrooms.'
One of Earth's internet creepypastas: an endless yellow space where you fall out of reality. I twisted the dungeon's structure to recreate it.
The principle's simple. Dungeon Maker System has a space expansion feature—for enlarging dungeons. But I pushed it to the extreme.
More like exploiting a system glitch.
Core Setting: Infinite Loop
Programming: Space severed from reality, time distortion
I tangled the dungeon's entrance and exit coordinates. Doors lead in, but none lead out. Opening a door doesn't go to the next room—it links to a randomly generated yellow room. Those rooms subtly connect in a non-Euclidean geometric structure, looping invaders back no matter how far they go.
Layered on creepypasta flavor.
Environment: Yellow wallpaper, damp carpet smell, fluorescent buzzing
Special Effect: Cognitive dissonance & sanity drain
Not just vast space. It gnaws at intruders' minds. Repetitive scenery, foul smells, grating noise—all combine to paralyze the brain, eroding reality until it's gone.
Just space distortion via system loophole. Plus psychological staging.
Then another alert rang.
Dungeon 'Abandoned Mansion' successfully repelled intruders.
All intruders confirmed dead.
Cause of death: Starvation
"Phew."
I let out a satisfied sigh. Just as planned. Backrooms alone was enough.
Checked the clock: noon. Two hours gone.
Alert log said intruders entered at 10 AM.
Just two hours...
System log: death by starvation. Takes humans weeks to starve.
Yet real-time: two hours?
Time distortion applied perfectly.
Backrooms' other trait: time flows differently. One real hour could be days or months inside. They were trapped two hours but felt like starving in terror for weeks.
What better torture chamber?
A grin spread naturally. My dungeon was running flawlessly.
"Aiden, something good happen?"
Team leader Liliane asked, passing by. I shrugged.
"Just feels like my house got a nice deep clean."
I kept it straightforward, just the facts. But reactions were as expected.
Most didn't believe it. Makes sense—their common sense can't fathom adventurers wiping in a monsterless, trapless dungeon.
"Heh."
I chuckled at the comments. No urge to explain. Skepticism's fine by me.
What can they do if they don't believe?
Closing Dungeon Gallery, a new post pinned at the top.
"...?!"
A golden star icon flashed next to the poster's nickname.
"Mod?"
The gallery's admin, aka the mod.
"...?"
The mod summoned me.