It was a sad sight indeed. What was once comparable to a bustling city during the Christmas season was echoing with the sterile sound of cheesy holiday songs. The noise lacked much of its intended warmth and comradery, feeling like it was begging for someone, anyone, to even acknowledge its existence, much less to give it a shred of their company. Any man would be able to find another in it now, no longer would their calls be drowned out by a flood of cheerful excitement, no longer would they be ripped apart by waves of bodies carrying plastic. A simple question, regardless of volume, could be answered by a man anywhere in the building, traveling through the stale air effortlessly. Although only being around 30,000 square feet, there wasn’t enough life to prevent it from feeling like its walls stretched on for miles.

As you walk down its many isles, memories of warm lights and a bottomless well of enthusiasm flood your train of thought. You knew that feeling wouldn’t last forever, it wasn’t supposed to. You expected to pass that enthusiasm down like any other heirloom, like any other experience you’ve witnessed. The excitement of walking down what felt like a forest lush with treasures is now nothing but a memory. Its many treasures lay abandoned, a garish yellow strip forcing itself into its surface like a starved tick. You expect it to live for another year at most, any help it would have gotten has already moved on closer pastures, you’ve dabbled in them yourself after all. Maybe if it adapted, it may have survived, although the experience would surely be lost when engaging at a single click.

Despite its sorry state, you hoped you would see it again, as healthy as it was in its prime, or at least able to thrive on its own terms. You would see it again, although a shell of what it once was. It wasn’t the same garish yellow color, but there it was, a fraction of a fraction of the size, stuck to the side of a distant relative, although seeming to be more of a symbiotic relationship as opposed to its previously self-sustaining nature. It truly was a sad sight indeed.

3:07 PM. Before Jordan sat a large metal box, it’s now dull paint chipping with age. He looked around for a sense of direction, noticing a sign reading “Clap to Begin” high up on a wall. Without much choice, a simple two clap melody filled the empty air. A figure sprang from the boxes’ core, nearly headbutting him in the process, it was a human sized jack-in-the-box that was covered in cobwebs, clearly it was an attraction not used for awhile. The clown was dressed in a yellow and white striped suit with orange accents and a large coil where its legs would have been. It smiled upon seeing the man, “H-Hel-Hello Hello H-Hello!” it’s voice boomed from an outdated speaker hidden behind its unopening teeth, “It appears som-someone has an apprieci-ci-ciation for times passed!” It leans forward excitedly, much too excitedly. Jordan expected it had gotten shoved in the establishment’s corner once the arcade games came in, untouched for decades. “S-So what could I do f-for you?” it pondered. He took a breath and said “Clown, everywhere I look here I see the same thing everyday, games decades old collecting quarters. I want a new experience! To never be bored again!”. The clown's rusted smile widened behind its ears, clapping excitedly as the wall next to it rolled open “My Ga-Game: Down that hallway is button. I want you to push it! But remember: N-No Cheat-Cheating!” it cackled. He thought the game was, admittedly, underwhelming, but with nothing to do he began his trek down the singular hallway. 

Although something was odd, he should have reached the button minutes ago, looking back there was nothing but a brick wall where the makeshift entrance used to be. Looking forward once more the hall suddenly had disappeared, and in its place stood a sprawling maze which Jordan could see stretched on for a mile from his bird's eye view. He had seen his fair share of mazes before, although its checkerboard pattern was definitely new. Jordan didn’t feel like the maze would be much of an issue, but nevertheless took a picture of the top of the maze in the chance that he may need it, and headed down an abnormally small staircase to the maze’s entrance. Similar to the stairs, the maze appeared to be a jumbled mess of paths that couldn’t possibly coexist with each other. With each turn a new path would open, previous paths replaced with new ones to succeed them. At one angle the maze would be red and black, at another it was blue and bronze. Seconds slipped into minutes and hours slipped into what feels like days, any attempts to chart a path proved futile. It was certainly a new experience, one of frustration. “Maybe the map will help,” Jordan thought, it was the only productive thought he had at that moment, it was nothing but a photo of an ear of corn.

He had almost called out to that infernal clown to give up, but before a word could escape his lips he saw it, in the corner of his eye was the elusive button. “Finally,” he thought, the sight of such a simple red button made him tear up, he could finally be done with this mess. He began walking towards it, wiping the tears from his eyes. Next thing he knew he was on the ground, nearly breaking his nose from walking into a wall. His one sense of clarity, a path that was delivered on a silver platter that may never come again, gone. Infuriated, he punched the wall, the slab of concrete that had taken away his chance to get out of this ridiculous room, but to his surprise; it fell over. He punched another wall, and just like the first, it fell all the same, this was it, this was his ticket out of here. Swing by swing, wall by wall, the maze became nothing but a pile of fallen dominos, the path to the button brighter than any star in outer space. A euphoric wave of victory crashed against his body. “Wel-Well? Are you satisfied?” a voice boomed from the sky. “Yes! I pushed your button! I won!” Jordan declared. “Won-Wonderful-ful! Unfortunately, you did cheat by knocking down my maze. So I shall pick your apology!” the voice boomed, the look of bliss on Jordan’s face turning to dread. Before him was a single hallway with a red button, above it’s entrance hung a rusted sign: “Fortuitus Ad Infinitum.”

They say it appeared out of nowhere. It's life drained away as the animals fled and the plants stood their ground in the face of adversity. Once a field of emerald strands now lays a poor display of dust and rock, and in its epicenter stands an a twisting structure of unnatural height and tear coated brick. Around each corner a new dent shows it's face, every foot higher sits brick indecisive of its place and form. It looked less like a tower with each passing minute, and more like a tree struggling to keep its barren body upright, fighting through whatever cancer is forcing it to the ground. It's door locked under most situations, but with a gentle push it crumbles into ash. Whatever it was protecting had long since left it to rot.

The inside, as you expected, had nothing to hide, the sorry state ran deep into the core of this thing. It's tapestry in ruin, the color leeched away by the swarm of holes littering the walls. A single drop of liquid could be heard throughout the whole skeleton, a single gust of wind creates a deafening whistle. The deeper into the tower you go the more effort it puts into its facade of decency. It wears the faces of its owners in a pitiful act of longing, hoping maybe, just maybe if it preserves the portraits and statues, they grace it with their presence. What a vain attempt at upholding of stolen vanity. With nothing else left at its base, all that remains is the top floor.

Unfortunately its spine was consistent with both the inside and out, a twisting staircase pathetically propping itself against the cavernous walls. At this point you don't know which is holding the building up, its spine, or its statuesque strands of muscle. Each step, you would hope, brings you closer to the towers head. But as you continue to climb, stepping over each gap created from dislodged vertebrae, it continues to drone on and on. A look below shows nothing but the abyss pierced with beams of light you crawled up from. A look above only provides a black void. It seems even the sunlight didn't care enough to follow you this far, you two were finally alone. Without the distractions of the outside world you hasten your stride, stepping over the unnecessary blocks. There was only the top left, the end of the spine was within reach.

There it was, the wooden door that hid the towers true worth. And through those doors exploded a blinding light, a tender warmth.

And the same field you found it in.

My writing tryout for Archie MegaMan Online.