Backrooms Level 5 Novels & Stories

After thinking it over, I got in the car. It was late, and it was hard to get a taxi in the villa district at this hour. Zayden drove me to the hospital to get my scraped palms treated. By the time everything was done, and I got home, it was already past midnight. I thanked him. Then, unexpectedly, he said, “If you want to get back at Jason, I’m willing to help.” A bitter smile curled at my lips. “You are both in on it together. What revenge could there possibly be?”

] But a quick refresh showed it had been deleted. Joyce texted me: [Andrea is a coward, wiping my comment like that. Smart move ditching that mess.] Then, she shifted gears. [So, how is life in the love nest with Levi?] My cheeks heated as I met Levi's amused glance, warmth spreading to my ears. That night, I bolted awake. Levi enveloped me instantly, his brow furrowed with concern. "Nightmare?" He gently dabbed the sweat from my forehead. "You were mumbling in your sleep, 'Don't abandon me. Don't shove me.' What's haunting you?"

"But they'll have backup here in minutes. We need to move." We pushed through the checkpoint, leaving the dead guards behind. I tried not to look at them, tried not to think about the lives we were taking. But this was war—desperate, ugly war for my parents' survival. The fifth level was different from the others. Where the upper levels had been sterile, institutional, this felt actively oppressive. The air was thick with old magic and older pain. The walls themselves seemed to absorb sound, creating an eerie silence broken only by our footsteps and ragged breathing.

The sky above was a bruised purple, torn by silent lightning that didn't flash so much as it ripped the fabric of the dreamscape apart. "System," Jack rasped, his voice echoing strangely in this non-space. "Status check." System Alert: Neural Link connection unstable. Signal integrity at 68%. Warning: Hostile psychic entities detected. This environment is categorized as: LEVEL 5 NIGHTMARE. Level 5. The highest classification his parents' coded bestiary had ever described. A realm where the dreamer's subconscious has total, lethal control over reality. If Jack died here, his brain in the real world would simply cease to function. A vegetable with a beating heart.

There has to be a way inside, but the only person I know who seems to know a little too much about the tunnels is … I really don’t want to see Jesse. Closing my eyes, I grit my teeth, looking at Quill, and finally asking, reluctantly, “If I were to say that I have an idea which involves breaking into the Level Three boy’s barracks, what would you say?” Quill’s stares at me, and finally, his lips curve, “What’re they going to do? Expel me?” I grin. *** The bridges connecting the islands are in continuous formation. Level One connects to Level Two and Level Two to Level Three, and so forth.

Dead silence. The door creaked open. We lay on the floor, groaning, our muscles twitching from the backlash. Valen stared at us, stunned. “You guys lasted ten whole minutes?” “We’re alive?” I croaked, blinking up at him. “Technically,” Lucan muttered. “You’re stronger than most,” Zarek said thoughtfully. “But that was just Level One.” “Level One?” Kael wheezed, still flat on his back. “What’s in Level Two?” Draven asked.

“The one I entered was a D-rank—the lowest level in the game. The survival rate was fifty percent. So, people still died, but it wasn’t as horrifying. Normally, newcomers start from the lowest rank too. Maybe something went wrong with the system, and it accidentally sent players who should’ve been in D-rank into the highest-level, S-rank.” “Then… what’s the survival rate for S-rank?” He paused for a moment before answering, “One percent, but in this game? It’s zero.” Despair swallowed me whole. Just as the atmosphere turned hopeless, the guy with glasses suddenly pointed behind me. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but no sound came out. A chill ran down my spine. “What is it?” “B-Behi

All night, everything from the past played out in my mind like a movie. The next morning. I struggled out of the bedroom with my weakened body. The door to the guest room was open. A piece of lacy lingerie lay at the foot of the bed, clearly visible. I smiled faintly and glanced at the time. It was time to bring this farce to an end.

Please let them be there. I reached the Level 100 access hatch and kicked it open. The penthouse was a wreck. The glass walls had shattered, the cold night air rushing in. The Crystalline Pillar was dead, its glow replaced by a dull, smoking charcoal grey. Julian was slumped against a wall, his breathing ragged but steady. He looked up at me and gave a weak, shaky thumbs-up. I looked toward the centre of the room. Lisa was lying on the floor, her clothes scorched, her hands blackened by the energy surge. She wasn’t moving.

Brief, steam-like hisses accompany the repeated sound of nail guns punching, as the inverted collar spikes sink into human necks, drawing blood and forcing the new slaves to start pushing the huge money bags along. “Sub-level 5: Child-killers, mass murderers and random shooters. Those who bullied the weak. Also the slothful and the morose. If you look to your right, you might catch glimpse of the abominable River Styx.” I smell something like sewer gas and before anyone can scream “God have mercy,” a tidal wave of some nasty liquid has engulfed the elevator. I savor a few precious seconds of peace thinking how like a blessing it would be to finally die in the intangible hands of the element