Through reallity

My awakening was terribly embarrassing, opening my eyes a little, the darkness of the small space in which I was in fact stood in front of them. It felt like I was sitting on a pile of clothes, well, at least rags and fabric, and it seemed to be in the closet. Having eaten in one place, I heard the creak of wood under me, thereby confirming my guesses. The only thing I knew for sure was that it definitely wasn't my closet and I wasn't at home, so the smell suggested. The body seemed to prickle from the freshness of the air, but it smelled of dust. Dust to such an extent that it seemed to sit in a dry lump in the throat.   Continuing to disbelieve in the truthfulness of the situation, I began to rub my eyes in an attempt to awaken myself from this strangely real dream... or nightmare? Panic enveloped me from head to toe, it was scary. The sleepy state was instantly removed by hand, which did not make it better, if not worse. Being in a state of fright, I pressed my legs to me, tightly embracing them with my hands and squeezing, digging my nails into the skin. A slight pain distracted from obsessive thoughts, gasping and exhaling, I decided to bring myself to my senses, in such a situation it was necessary to behave soberly, at least as far as possible. What if I've been kidnapped? It is necessary not to give myself away, perhaps I could break out and hide in a half-asleep delirium. It is impossible to exclude any alignment of the situation. But why do I only remember that I passed out for another chemistry lab? I don't even feel right. Having relaxed my body, I leaned against the inner wall of the closet, my limbs trembled, but what can I hide, I myself was not sickly so shaken. After sitting quietly for a minute, drilling into the darkness with a heavy sleepy gaze, I was about to open a crack to look around, but a second later a light appeared out of nowhere in front of me, something bright yellow and barely moving, the shape of "this something" I did not see well, as I leaned forward in fright and literally flew out of the the closet is almost head over heels. The closet door crunched and flew off its hinges after me, painfully pinning my back.   —Aw," I muttered softly to myself, rubbing my bruised shoulder.  "A fragile thing, however," I thought, looking at the crumbling piece of furniture made of dark wood. The yellow glow had already disappeared, causing the eyebrows to come down to the bridge of the nose, frowning, there was nothing to blame now.  Attention shifted to the room into which I was "carried out", and immediately my eyes began to rush around in horror, it was difficult to remain unnoticed with such a roar, but there was no one in the room, which allowed me to calmly exhale for the first time. Although how to say exhale, when I was thrown out of the closet, it became clear what caused such a pungent dusty smell, no matter how strange it might sound. The whole room was literally strewn with dirt and this gray powder that looked like dust. Moreover, this dust did not look like a layer of gray-a cannon, cobwebs or something like that, like some kind of powder. If he was white, you could blame it on drugs, if you think about it, you can't say that it would be worse. Kidnapped by junkies or sluts. The second sounds perhaps better. But sluts with what a letter!  The walls of the room were surprisingly made of large dark brick, which suggested that I was most likely in a private house. The bricks of the walls were decorated with large scratches and rare chips. The ceiling of dark wooden boards was broken in some places, one of the boards, closer to the wall, hung down slightly. There was a bed opposite my place of appearance, and it looked, to put it mildly, shabby. On the wooden pieces, so to speak, the frame of the bed was a mattress, as if cut by something, the stuffing was sticking out of the cracks. There were several carelessly thrown blankets on top, presumably three, and a white pillow, which was surprisingly neat, even without a pillowcase, only like the blankets it was covered with dust-powder. At the same time, she was all over the room, it looked like some abandoned salt den. To the left of the bed there was the same wooden bookcase, by the way, again made of black wood, right against the wall, filled with more than half of books. The language was not Russian, some signs, still resembling letters. A sect or something? Weirder and weirder. Some books were lying on the lower shelves, separate from others, apparently, the owner of the room had read them or had already read them, or maybe just his favorite ones. And already to the left of the rack there was a small rectangular table made of the same material as the cabinet, there were a couple of mugs and glasses on it, some were even filled with liquid, by the smell like coffee, maybe cocoa. Another distinctive detail of the room - as such, there was no lighting in the form of light bulbs, but on the same shelf, table, and under the bed there were beautiful black candlesticks, both for several and for one candle, lying around. The named wax things were stacked in a box at the head of the bed. They'll come in handy at night if I live to see her. In the meantime, let the scarlet light shine from the window, between the bed and the shelf. Why scarlet, well, maybe the glass is red? It's not particularly clear, but the sun is not red, huh.  The light barely reached the center of the room, where faded red scraps of some kind of clothes were lying around, although they could have been scarves, but it looked more like a tattered light scarf.  "Nice," I giggled nervously. — So what did I do with the wardrobe there.. Oh, — looking inside the named piece of furniture, I saw T-shirts, shorts, sweatshirts, hoodies lying in a crowd. Again, everything is sloppy, crumpled, I have already tried, and in this ill-fated dust. — Yes, what is it ... — I muttered at the incomprehensible clots, having already sneezed. — The mirror! — she exclaimed a little louder, causing the sound to echo through the room, and then immediately covered her mouth with her hand, softly oiking. There was a mirror on the second closet door, which was also open, and there was no chapel until I paid attention to my appearance, stupid joy that I didn't fall out through it.  Looking at my reflection, I was horrified. It wasn't my body. Not me. Although the facial features and kind of physique were mine... but.. not quite like that! The hair was shorter, below the shoulders, and if earlier they had a light brown shade, now they were completely black, that's straight coal. The eyes that used to have a gray-blue color have become just dark pupils with a thin gray outline. The skin is pale, the shade borders on white, but still gives off a delicate pink, hinting at the health of the body. But the surface is smooth, without hints of freckles or pimples. From the good - I don't seem to need glasses anymore, only now I notice their absence and good eyesight. Also, the clothes were fortunately mine, which made me feel in my body, at least when looking at the fabric on myself. And I was wearing a shortened milk polo with short sleeves, under it was a black turtleneck, and on my feet were the same dark shade of faded bell-bottomed jeans and ordinary white sneakers. The black pupils, which were still slightly frightening and at least straining, did not get tired of running around in a new way. I began to feel myself with my hands, move my limbs, checking the integrity and control of the body, even pinched a couple of times, it was stupid, but no less desperate. It was all damn strange, waiting for my very man with a camera and shouting something like: "It was a prank! Your face was worth it, so intimidated and cornered!" But he was gone, as well as more of this stupid hope. She looked literally like a doll, perfect in appearance and physique and flaws, well, by the standards of a black and white puppet, I suppose. I could calm myself down by running from one topic to another and confusing my thoughts as much as I wanted, but it didn't get much easier.  There was a creak to the right of the closet, where there was just an exit from the room. The body tensed, the shoulders tightened, the eyes were ready to close and tear. Quiet footsteps. I swallow noisily and stare at the floor, I didn't have time to make an attempt to escape, and my limbs began to go numb with fear, like a guilty child before the oppression of angry parents. A sudden sound, like a blade slicing through the air, and someone's hand in a white glove falls on his shoulder, squeezing with a strong grip, somehow sharp for the palm, like ... bones? His gaze shot sharply up the mirror while someone else's breath scorched his back.  What?.. There was a skeleton behind me, a fucking living skeleton! A skeleton in shorts, a T-shirt and a hoodie. I have glitches, maybe I'm going crazy, maybe I'm delusional under drugs in a mental hospital. Dust, a ruined room, a monster behind your back- it doesn't have to be real. Moreover, he seemed so familiar to me. Very, very familiar. The likeness of the character Sans from the game with the dungeon, other monsters and all that. Oh.. oh shit.. His appearance. Dust. Gloves. A room that reminded me of a palace. Even his brother's tattered scarf! Will give… Dark pupils in fright ran over the figure of the skeleton, which continued to be inactive, maybe thinking. Maybe he was deciding how useful I could be to him. You can't tell by the look of his empty eye sockets. But I tried to breathe every other time, just in case. I attract less attention and annoy - less desire to kill me, right? Although I rather deceived myself, the air left my lungs by itself, and my legs gave way like a one-year-old child who had just learned to walk. The skeleton grunted, a mad smile spread across his face, his hand moved from his shoulder to his throat, slightly squeezing, but my eyes were already wet. I have never been so afraid in my life, almost no problems could break me and put me in such a state. But this realistic dream… I hope it's a dream after all!  The attempt to breathe was unsuccessful, firstly, a sob immediately escaped, and secondly, he squeezed his throat enough so that the air did not pass beyond the throat.  — Kh.. let me go, — she squeezed out of herself in the most pathetic voice, she was simply not capable of another. — P-please. The monster flinched at my words, memories or thoughts, but something definitely hit his skull. Humbly looking into my soul through the mirror, his gaze hardened. A trickle of tears descended from his left eye. — I'm not a Gambler, although I don't know, but I don't want to lie... kha, — having managed to take a breath in my mouth, I tried to explain, but they didn't let me finish, and they weren't going to, a ringing crack of magic dispersed, two bones materialized, which with accompanying squelching and crunching entered my neck crosswise. The pain was unbearable, the head was filled with lead, getting heavier and acquiring a suffocating red color. Mechanically, I wrapped my hands around my neck, my arms quickly weakened, and without holding out for a couple of seconds, helplessly involuntarily hung along my body. My pupils were blurred, but I could still see my silhouette in the mirror. The eyelids completely lowered, the legs turned out to take two ridiculous steps back, being free, and then fly down. I did not feel the fall, as well as the sound with which my carcass came into contact with the floor. A click, as if I blinked away the spots in front of my eyes. And now my dead body is lying in front of a wardrobe with a mirror, a skeleton standing a little further away is whispering something quickly, either to me or to himself behind his back. After the monster jumped up my carcass, probably hoping that I would not be so crystal, he looked at the blood-stained glove with disgust on his face. Yes, she was not the only one in the blood, the bulk of the murder was on the snow-white T-shirt, even a couple of drops stained the bottom of the facial bone, more specifically the jaw. Quickly wiping them off with his sleeve, Dast tsked, coming closer to the wall and wiping his glove with disgust on a dark large brick, smearing a scarlet tart liquid. Having the ability to smell, I was sure that the heavy aroma of metallica, mixed with the stench of rot, would hit my nose. That's right, if I were alive in this room, I would definitely throw up. But wait.. And then what am I?.. I didn't have time to look, touch or do anything else with myself, the picture in front of my eyes began to float again, and after that the whole space was eclipsed by a black screen. Suddenly, with a bizarre typing sound, a large white inscription began to appear one letter at a time, it read: WELCOME, PLAYER, CHOOSE A NAME TO START THE GAME: _____ TO BE REBORN AND CONTINUE: Yes/No