The Letter

“Your world will end in black and crimson in five days. No more or less.”

The girl read the letter for the tenth time today. She had five days left until everything ended.

Her room reflected the letter; it smelled like dust and stillness. Trash was thrown all over the place, and the dirt from the unwashed dishes always remained. Dust clung to everything, but it was especially attracted to a lone computer in the corner; it doesn’t have internet access either way; that would be too much freedom.

Her focus was on something more important, this letter, a simple one-line letter with a mystery from a person who knew she would have wanted her to take action. Someone knew about her situation; someone knew her well enough to send this to her.

Someone is sliding this under my door, expecting me to just accept it at face value; that's naive.

She slowly walked towards the only window beside her bed at the back wall, placed perfectly in the middle.

Having mustered her entire strength, she propped herself up onto the ledge, releasing a quick echo as her feet departed, which caused her classic Mary Jane shoes to click.

Always so foggy.

She began to wipe the window off with her sweater in a quick and trained maneuver.

The crimson moonlight from outside started to shine brighter, which her bright pink eyes reflected back out. Her eyes scanned the outside; it was her usual depressing world.

Seems even with just five days. The cubes won't just stop getting closer, however. Maybe that's the reason the letter is true.

On the outside, the girl was right. Cubes of pure black with a crimson outline that matched the moonlight. The closest thing she could make out as real was a massive monolith-type building with cubes growing out of its sides.

The floor wasn't any better; cubes covered them entirely as well. They bulged up from a flat level; some sank lower than their level, which created a wave-like effect underneath her safe haven.

If things end up going this way, I won't be able to set foot outside the confines of this complex—I mean, I don’t go out anyway, but seeing this cubic mess take over. It's like death is knocking every day.

Her gaze averted from outside as she swung open the window, and a hard, cold breeze swept her off guard before slowly settling, allowing her to climb off the ledge, her strength already declining from the sheer effort.

I'm only getting weaker.

Grumble grumble.

It was about time I made some breakfast; even my body knows that at least. Giving a final glance at the hellish black and crimson view, she turned towards the opposite side of the room; a vintage kitchen sat waiting for her past the bathroom.

She walked over towards the cupboards that hung off the ceiling mount; she turned her head upwards and blew away a strand of her raven-colored hair before grabbing a small stool to stand upon and salvage her remaining food.

“Empty, empty, I’m not gaining any weight, am I?” She pinched her sides, barely having anything to grip. The lack of food frustrated her. Her body steaming, she ran toward her bed, nudging past the trash left on the floor but dirtying herself at the same time.

Ah—dirty now as well. Please just end this countdown already; don't make me wait another five days!

Another second passed; she stared at the ceiling. No point in staying dirty, is there? She started patting down her frilly black and white dress, hoping to at least get the obvious parts hidden.

How wonderful this day has been going. I can't wait to see what awaits me. I might read the books I already finished a thousand times, or maybe even just stare out at that beautifully killing window! So many options to choose from.

Her thoughts composed slowly. I do have the letter; I can’t just ignore it—she snatches the letter off her bed before darting over towards a door with a clock above its frame.

It's already noon; THEY should already have called the lights out. Sleeping the whole day sure works out sometimes! But figuring out who else has this letter would definitely help.

She unhinged the lock and pulled the door open. A front terrace appeared before her that stretched across an open gap with a garden below; the other side looked identical and perfectly symmetrical. The same applied for the left-to-right. A perfect square complex made of pure grey concrete.

Two neighbors on my right, only one is barely left; I can't get caught since THEY might be lurking. The last time someone got caught, minutes of screaming before silence. Her steps moved smoothly, too smoothly, making sure that not a single sound escaped. A moment of silence stretched for multiple seconds before she stood in front of a dark wooden door.

Knock knock.

Don't call out; THEY are always listening. THEY always find out. Knock twice more, and if they don't respond, then move on to the next, and finally return home. I got this!

She makes an audible gulp before knocking again—nothing once again, final knock—

Nothing.

Next room—I won’t be surprised if they don't respond either; nobody but them seems to be left, and even if they got a letter, they might think it's a trick by THEM.

She froze for a moment, then stood in front of a wooden door.

Knock knock.

No response.

Knock knock.

A raspy voice, almost broken and cracked beyond recognition: “The moonlight welcomes you; let the ground disappear beneath you, and the stars embrace you.”

"You got the letter too?" she called rapidly out.

No response.

“Explain yourself!”

…

Useless neighbors, but that confirms that I am not the only one with a letter and that they knew I would come, or is it just random talk? Whatever, I just know something is going on where the moonlight welcomes me, the ground disappears, and the stars embrace.

...

I sense THEM. THEY saw me; THEY will get me.

Her eyes quickly dart all over the complex.

From where? I cannot see!

The girl started walking back gradually, but that soon faded.

I'm being stalked.

Her pace quickened every second until she passed the unresponsive neighbor and finally reached her house and slammed the door shut.

That was close! Just relax; I am safe here. She slid herself down the door on the wooden floor. Her face lifted onto the ceiling, just staring at the close call. Too close.

After a moment of rest, she walked over to her bed before she jumped on top of it. Quickly gather your thoughts. Her hands scavenged the underside of the bed; she pulled out a heavily used nameless book. It contained what seemed to be a thousand pages.

She started to settle slowly, her heartbeat slowed, the fear vanished, and the anxiety left. Flicking over to the last written page, her eyes zoned in on the text, #1675. Today was like every other day before, and that day was exactly like the day before that. I will most likely run out of food by today, but I'll forget, like usual. Starving for one day until THEIR arrival isn't the worst that could happen.

Going underneath her bed again, she picked up a pen from below; its gold-lined design, sheathed with a steel exterior, always put a small grin on her face when found.

#1676: I got a letter from a mysterious sender, ‘The world I know will end in five days.’ It has a nice mysterious element like it’s urging me to solve it. I will analyze this under the real moonlight once I get the chance. Also, the food supply ran out like expected, but THEY will replenish it once THEIR meeting is over. Today was eventful for once; the letter certainly will lead me somewhere. I will tackle THEM first, however!