Backrooms Entity 999 Novels & Stories

Replacement recommended. [Fuel: 2%] (Estimated range: 10 km) [External Weapons: None] [Overall Rating: A mobile iron coffin. Best to pick a nice cemetery.] Jake's pupils contracted. 2%? Ten kilometers of fuel? This wasn't survival. This was a death sentence. And then the cold mechanical voice returned, broadcasting to every player in the region with the finality of a guillotine blade. [Region Announcement: Attention, all players in Zone C-996.]

Jenatrix cackled softly, causing the hairs on Kevin’s arms and neck to rise. “When we abduct people, we ship them to a space station facility where a Boneseeker Man eats them. These Boneseeker Men have eight legs, and my boss uses human beings as their food source. When a Boneseeker Man eats a human body, it produces this chemical during its digestion stage. When the creature takes a sh*t, it releases the chemical through its sh*t, and we take that chemical and convert it into a narcotic called Lotus-9. My boss takes the drug, and she sells it on the black market to non-human customers who live in other regions of the universe.” When Jenatrix finished speaking, she took a deep satisfied brea

It was a heavy, wet sound, like a giant lung expanding against stone. ​“Silas? Your arm is flickering,” Winnie noted, her brow furrowed in concern. ​“There is a ghost in the basement,” I muttered, standing up. The movement felt clumsy; my biological legs were struggling to keep pace with my digital mind. “Sub-Level 9. It is supposed to be a vacuum, but something is breathing down there. Something that my interface cannot identify.”

Ninety was necrosis. He had seen ninety up close. Two years ago. The southern border clinic. The trafficked Omega on his table, glandular necrosis at ninety-two percent. The gland had rotted inward until the pheromones soured into poison, and the poison flooded the bloodstream, and the body shut down organ by organ. Skin the color of wet ash. Pupils fixed and enormous. Chest still. He closed his eyes. Opened them. Set the chart aside and laid out a fresh blank form.

The darkness of Sub-level 9 was not empty. It was heavy, textured, like breathing in wet velvet. Jack Sterling lay on a mattress of scavenged subway seats, the foam brittle and smelling of decades-old dust. The pain in his hip was a dull, throbbing bass note to the symphony of his recovery, but the fever had broken. The Tinker's green sludge—some kind of military-grade nanite cocktail—was working. He could feel the metal pin in his pelvis. It felt cold, alien, a permanent reminder that Jack Sterling, the man of flesh and blood, was being replaced piece by piece.

The body of the bastard hit the ground and relief instantly washed over him as soon as air returned to his brain. He crawled backwards in fear as the entity fell by the strange doorway. A pair of gigantic hands dripping in yellow liquid appeared and retrieved the body quickly and without noise, as if it was a toy retrieved by a child and the rectangular portal instantly disappeared in a flash and became a solidified wall once more. Even the strip of light beneath had disappeared.

the entity said. “And yet… here I am,” I repeated. Stronger this time. Because now I believed it. Something moved behind the entity. More shadows. More shapes. My stomach dropped. “They’re not alone,” I whispered. Her voice responded immediately. “Multiple presences detected.” Great. Just great. “Of course you brought backup,” I muttered. “This is not a confrontation,” the entity replied. “This is retrieval.” “Yeah?” I smiled faintly. “Then you’re doing a terrible job.”

POV DARLENE The Ninth Layer of Entropy was not a place of light, nor was it a place of darkness. It was a realm of Raw Structural Intent. As the rusted shards of the Eighth Layer’s mirrors fell away, they didn't hit the ground; they dissolved into a thick, swirling mist of Molecular Ash. Emerging from this haze was the most daunting sight we had encountered since the Spire of the Ninth Cycle—the Helix of the First Alpha.

“There’s a supermarket and a few restaurants downstairs. The subway station is about a five-minute walk to the right. If you need anything, contact me anytime.” “Thank you, Cecilia.” “Don’t thank me too quickly.” She walked to the door before turning back around. “The Anderson family doesn’t keep useless people around. The value of what you brought depends on what value you can create for us next.” After the door closed, the room fell silent. I stood by the window and looked at the scattered ship lights across the ocean in the distance. Suddenly, I had a sense of unreality. Just over ten hours ago, I had still been trapped inside that gilded cage in Corholt, ordered around by a man who treat

"Go back to your room. Calm down. We'll talk about this later when you're thinking clearly." I pushed myself up from the floor slowly and looked into their eyes. “You'll find out someday and you will regret.” I turned and dragged my aching legs back to my room. The door closed behind me, and the whole world went quiet. I scrolled to Professor Luciano's number. He used to be my professor. He thought very highly of me. The phone connected quickly. “Alessia,” the voice on the other end said, low and controlled. “I am glad you finally called.”