Sorry if anything gets messed up formtting-wise ! T^T google docs copy and pasted to scratch doesnt always work the best, but its good enough X3 Enjoy :D ~~~~~~~~~~~ As always. the story is in instructions :3 ~~~~~~~~~~~ wait :0 ! before you read: summary/concept: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1263299330/ chapter 1: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1263481078/ chapter 2: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1279003239/ chapter 3: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1279008233/ Flashback: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1304416228/
Chapter 四 Upon opening the door, I don’t know what I’m looking at. I walk through, careful not to close the door behind me (I’ve watched enough horror movies not to make these rookie mistakes). Immediately, the room feels quieter than normal. I couldn’t hear the clock ticking or smell the cleaning chemicals that were usually present. Everything felt unusual and silent, which is something I've never quite experienced. I touched the scratchy table, the same one I use to draw every morning, though it felt smoother than normal. Did they add another workspace to the art room? I kept walking, seeing another door. This place was becoming a maze. Logistically speaking, after opening the door inside the original work room, there should have been only enough space for a closet, as the wall the door was along backed up to a hallway. But there I was, in a new art room, wandering toward yet another door. This door led to the main art room somehow. There was definitely something wrong. As I walked through, the new art room and workspace seemed to replicate the original one, as if it was unfolding outwards in the same reverse layout. But that couldn’t be possible…right? I kept walking, eventually finding the door to the hallway, but inside this “closet.” This definitely could not have been built overnight. I found myself walking into the hallway, seeing how deep I could go. I became curious and decided to see if I could get outside from here, so I continued walking. I ran my hand across the same hallway wall, where I could usually feel the white bumpy paint, but it was now way too smooth. I kept walking further and further, seeing the door outside in the distance. At this point, my speed had gone from slow and respectful to speed walking, almost too fast that I would’ve been scolded by the teachers for such unnecessary speed, as I have in the past. I found the outside door and grabbed and pulled it to get to the grassy area outside that contained tables and benches for us to eat at. I had, indeed, gotten outside. Out there, there were many other students, eating and talking, enjoying their break time with their friends from other classes. How did they all get here? Why did they all seem so relaxed? Among all the other students, far away from others all by themself, was a short, black-haired figure I recognized. They were busy reading a book, their lunch left untouched in front of them. Sei.
