Stage 74 - what is there to know?
You asked what you should know, not understanding just how much you had forgotten. Within this dreamscape right them you would realize that this isn’t just a symbol. Just a metaphor. It was real in ways you were unprepared for.
The air was thick, muffled like wool pressed over your ears. A long cracked stone hallway stretched before you, filled with faceless people. People whose faces you could no longer place but at one point you could. The walls were stitched together. not with silken thread, but by presumptions and beliefs that lacked foundation. Indeed, that was why the floor was cracked, there was nothing to support where her feet stood.
As you moved, though your feet would barely touch the ground. Your shadow trailed behind you, long and thin like a pulled thread unraveling from a spool.
Along the walls, where painting should have been, niches opened. Within them stood students you could not name, whose faces you had forgotten. Motionless and upright, these forgotten people were present but you had a feeling that they were not alive. Their robes were gray, drained of house color. Were they Slytherins or Hufflepuffs? You had no way of knowing. Their mouths were closed, left in a neutral position. They shown no semblance of the person that they were. Their eyes were half-lidded in sleep or resignation. Some had names still stitched into the hems of their robes, but many had no name. Where a name should have been, the edges were frayed and where names had once been, there was nothing to note. Their names were rubbed away like chalk in the rain.
Now that you see these faces, you know that you should recognize them, but you could not.
Not by name at least. Perhaps you saw them in the hall, shared a class. But where were they now, their memory seemed too distant to make sense. Among them were students who should have been known to you. From last term. Last week. Yesterday. But they were gone. Forgotten. Folded into the corridor.
Your heart would thud in your chest. This beat was not a drumbeat of fear, but rather the hollow thud of something waking up. Something remembering that she had forgotten.
A voice echoed behind her.
“You were allowed to forget.”
She turned.
Canbrey stood in the center of the corridor, not moving, but somehow always just a little closer. Their eyes were kind, but there was an exhaustion etched into his expression.
“It’s easier this way. You saw something you weren’t meant to. You walked too deep. You looked under the skin.”
The ground cracked beneath her feet, roots clawed their way up from the floor, slick and black, wrapping around shoes, ankles, calves. They pulled downward.
"FORGET!" Canbrey screamed.
Do you?
Forget → Go to Stage 73
Remember → Go to Stage 76
The air was thick, muffled like wool pressed over your ears. A long cracked stone hallway stretched before you, filled with faceless people. People whose faces you could no longer place but at one point you could. The walls were stitched together. not with silken thread, but by presumptions and beliefs that lacked foundation. Indeed, that was why the floor was cracked, there was nothing to support where her feet stood.
As you moved, though your feet would barely touch the ground. Your shadow trailed behind you, long and thin like a pulled thread unraveling from a spool.
Along the walls, where painting should have been, niches opened. Within them stood students you could not name, whose faces you had forgotten. Motionless and upright, these forgotten people were present but you had a feeling that they were not alive. Their robes were gray, drained of house color. Were they Slytherins or Hufflepuffs? You had no way of knowing. Their mouths were closed, left in a neutral position. They shown no semblance of the person that they were. Their eyes were half-lidded in sleep or resignation. Some had names still stitched into the hems of their robes, but many had no name. Where a name should have been, the edges were frayed and where names had once been, there was nothing to note. Their names were rubbed away like chalk in the rain.
Now that you see these faces, you know that you should recognize them, but you could not.
Not by name at least. Perhaps you saw them in the hall, shared a class. But where were they now, their memory seemed too distant to make sense. Among them were students who should have been known to you. From last term. Last week. Yesterday. But they were gone. Forgotten. Folded into the corridor.
Your heart would thud in your chest. This beat was not a drumbeat of fear, but rather the hollow thud of something waking up. Something remembering that she had forgotten.
A voice echoed behind her.
“You were allowed to forget.”
She turned.
Canbrey stood in the center of the corridor, not moving, but somehow always just a little closer. Their eyes were kind, but there was an exhaustion etched into his expression.
“It’s easier this way. You saw something you weren’t meant to. You walked too deep. You looked under the skin.”
The ground cracked beneath her feet, roots clawed their way up from the floor, slick and black, wrapping around shoes, ankles, calves. They pulled downward.
"FORGET!" Canbrey screamed.
Do you?
Forget → Go to Stage 73
Remember → Go to Stage 76
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
Stage 74 - what is there to know?
Mellani walked through the corridors, looking at the people whose faces she should have recognized, but could not. Where there should have been portraits, there were niches in the wall, and people looking through them. Again, Mellani was overcome by the feeling that she should be able to remember, and yet...
She was slowly realizing what had happened. Someone had made her forget, had wiped her memories. Mellani knew of spells that could do that, only problem was that she did not remember who did it, and it was frustrating if nothing else.
A voice echoed behind her telling her that she had been allowed to forget. Mellani turned to see a house elf in the corridor. She knew she had seen them somewhere, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember where.
The elf then told her that she had seen something she wasn't supposed to, that she walked too deep. Not hard to believe, knowing how curious she was, but if she had actually found something out, there was no way in hell she was going to let a house elf make her forget.
The floor cracked beneath her feet, and roots clawed upward, wrapping around her ankles. Mellani fought against them as the house elf yelled at her to forget. "NO", Mellani yelled back trying to free herself from the clutches of the roots. She would remember.
She was slowly realizing what had happened. Someone had made her forget, had wiped her memories. Mellani knew of spells that could do that, only problem was that she did not remember who did it, and it was frustrating if nothing else.
A voice echoed behind her telling her that she had been allowed to forget. Mellani turned to see a house elf in the corridor. She knew she had seen them somewhere, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember where.
The elf then told her that she had seen something she wasn't supposed to, that she walked too deep. Not hard to believe, knowing how curious she was, but if she had actually found something out, there was no way in hell she was going to let a house elf make her forget.
The floor cracked beneath her feet, and roots clawed upward, wrapping around her ankles. Mellani fought against them as the house elf yelled at her to forget. "NO", Mellani yelled back trying to free herself from the clutches of the roots. She would remember.
iNPC: Reuben Garcia