📚 Trick Room

Aribelle goes somewhere to try and clear her mind.

Characters: Aribelle

Warnings: N/A

Wordcount: 878

Vibe: bro this is like the backrooms

um. i dont really have an authors note for this one. ive had awful awful writers block for what feels like close to a year but i felt a groove with this one……… so maybe #wearesoback who knows

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Typical, really.

Aribelle knew it wasn’t really a big deal. She got into arguments with her boss over getting snippy with customers all the damn time… and yet, every time, her boss was willing to stay by her.

Her boss was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve, a factor that didn’t help with Aribelle’s inevitable frustration whenever they fought.

After all – would she really be so forgiving of her if she wasn’t a huge pushover in general? What if the boss woman was more afraid than anything else?

Whatever.

Aribelle just needed alone time to clear her head. And then everything would be normal again.

Right?

The half-decayed factory that Aribelle found herself spacing out in smelled bad. Abandoned factories like this one were a dime a dozen in the more industrial mining areas of the caverns – it was more cost-effective to leave them standing after a structurally-compromising mishap, after all.

Even though the vaulted ceilings of the Caverns were massive, the poor ventilation tended to conceal them in smog… leaving them to be nothing more than a mirage, only attended to by other strays with spray cans or loose thoughts.

Still, the smell was getting to be a bit too much – it was starting to give Aribelle a headache. She couldn’t imagine it’d be doing her any good to keep breathing it in, either.

Nonchalantly, she hopped down from the rusted metal balcony she’d been loitering around on, and began to wander once more.

The industrial mining areas were a testament to the utter destruction hubris and greed could cause. New factories built on top of each other, running restlessly through the night – until slowly aged-out and forgotten… or overloading and melting down in a violent manner.

Maybe that’s why there was a sense of comforting familiarity here to Aribelle… It wasn’t something she’d willingly think too deeply about, though.

A soft tamp as she jumped over a puddle of unidentifiable sludge, some muffled cracks as broken glass further fragmented from her step.

A feeling of liminality often came with these spaces, but Aribelle associated it more with a solid feeling of control.

She was the only one here – she decided when sounds were made, when the industrial mess around her would resume from being frozen in time.

But then…

Aribelle’s ears pricked. She swore she heard something.

…Maybe she’d been introspecting a bit too hard this time. Maybe she’d inhaled a bit too much smog and it was time to go home.

Aribelle pulled out her phone to best figure out her way back. The clamshell device clicked as she flipped it open, but…

It… didn’t turn on. Aribelle furrowed her brow, and pressed down on the central power button to try a hard reboot.

She’d literally been using it to listen to music on her walk here, and fully charged it before leaving. There was no reason for it to not turn on.

Then…

Aribelle’s ears pricked, again.

Oh, someone is definitely here.

With a groan, Aribelle shoved her phone into her bag. It’d take longer, but she could reasonably follow traces of industrial decay to older buildings that were still in use… and if her phone still wouldn’t turn on, she could just ask for assistance.

Who wouldn’t help out such a sweet looking lady, after all?

Unfortunately… Aribelle was under the impression something more sinister may be at play – though how much of that suspicion was actually rational was up in the air.

After all, it was easy enough to jam a signal. And if there was no way to call for help, then…

Then whatever bullshit at play would have to get through her, first.

Aribelle continued her stroll, if not more alert now. Nothing seemed to disturb her further though, leaving Aribelle to assume it could’ve been some kind of spontaneous glitch and a scuttling critter.

Or she was totally losing it… it was a 50-50, really.

That was, until she passed by a narrow alley situated between two condemned buildings. It was an instant recognition.

The smog and miscellaneous chemical miasma made it hard to tell things apart at times, but this was a smell that was clear as day to Aribelle…

Cigarette smoke.

It was heavily saturated at the narrow gap that made up the alley’s entryway, and it was fresh. The alleyway was dark though, and seemed so saturated with a smog of its own that Aribelle couldn’t see the light of the source’s embers at all.

By all means, a normal person would awkwardly carry on. This was absolutely a recipe for trouble, no matter how one looked at it.

Unfortunately, Aribelle really couldn’t be considered a normal person.

She’d wandered the husks of the industrial area for months, it felt – and yet, she’d never stumbled upon this anomaly in plain sight. This was her place of peace, of control… and for something so unexpected to disrupt it… kind of pissed her off.

Logically, it was probably a shady business spot she’d just passed by earlier, but… Aribelle wasn’t in a mood to listen to logic.

Whether it was a date with destiny or danger was undetermined – but as Aribelle made her way into the strange, dark alley… she was ready to find out.