Telling the world.

Let me tell you about my life. I find myself wondering everyday whether or not I will live the rest of my life in darkness. Alone. My name is Lorne Opsanohl, and I live underground, with a network of tattered lights hanging in the ceiling. For years, me and others like me have struggled to find a way out, each time being batted back to where we came from. Where I live is not like a large cavern. It is a series of tunnels, each being lined with a soft substance, yet is hard in the way that a non-Newtonian fluid is.

I find myself walking toward my friends. They believe they have found it. They told me that it might not be long. I walk to the door, and open it with a key card. The door slides open slowly, then shuts quickly. This is expected. To kill any intruders. The doors open just wide enough to let me in, then close behind me. Another series of locks stand in front of me. The first is a qwerty keyboard, asking for a pass code on a small screen. I type in the pass code, and pass through the door. Another few pass codes, and I find my friends. Lying dead on the ground.