The Backrooms Level 2 Novels & Stories

pose, but her skin had turned into a dull, grey plastic. "Martha, wake up!" I shouted, shaking her. She didn't move. She was just a prop. I looked around the room. There had to be something here. If this was a stage, there had to be a way behind the curtain. I saw a small door behind the hearth. It wasn't made of wood; it was made of sleek, black glass. I pulled it open. Inside was a small, cramped room filled with monitors. On the monitors, I saw different angles of the grove. I saw the Titan. I saw Rowan bleeding on the ground. I saw the survivors crying.

“Let’s get you out of here.” James carried her up the rusted metal stairs, opened the only door, and came out on the main floor in a cavernous room. The ceiling was vaulted as if it was a Gothic cathedral and old, broken down machinery sat haphazardly around the periphery. Pieces of metal seemed to have been scattered all over the floor. Shafts of silvery moonlight, shining through several cracked and shattered skylights, cast eerie shadows on the walls. At the far end of the cavern was a pair of large, wooden, gate-like doors; a smaller additional exit was nearby. He searched the area for enemies and, finding none, set off for the doors. When they had barely made it to the halfway mark, the

"We need to address this threat head-on. Gather what you need, get dressed and meet me in the weapon room." The weapon room, my sanctuary of power and death , awaited us on the lower level of the mansion on the same floor as the dungeon. Its walls are adorned with an array of deadly instruments, gleaming in the dim light. As we enter, the scent of oiled metal and polished wood filled the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between us.

My eyes tracked the movement carefully. "We'll see about that." Before I could say anything else, the room around me vanished. I grunted as my back slammed into the cold concrete floor, the smell of mould and soil burning my nose. I quickly scanned the dark space, unable to see anything in the black abyss surrounding me. I went to move, but my hand brushed against something cold and scaly, causing me to pull away quickly.

Her mouth was set, but her fingers trembled. The prompt blinked again. Ava touched the keyboard. > USER ID: Her hands moved before she decided. > A.Monroe She blinked. Where had that come from? The screen accepted it. A second line appeared. > CLEARANCE LEVEL: Her fingers typed— > Tier 2 – Clearline The screen paused. No rejection. Then: > ACCESS GRANTED. WELCOME BACK. Ava leaned back. The screen shifted to a deeper interface—flat grey text over soft green. File branches. Session logs.

However, I simply turned off my phone, put in my earbuds, and closed my eyes. When Sienna still didn't get a response, she pulled my curtain open. It was already past 1:00 am, but another roommate was still up playing video games. The glow of her monitor flashed against my eyelids as the keyboard clacked in the background. "Melissa? Melissa? Are you asleep?" Sienna's voice grew louder. At that point, it was loud enough to wake anyone up. Still, I kept my eyes tightly shut, determined not to move. I knew Sienna's game. I knew I couldn't give in because if I opened my eyes, she would get exactly what she wanted.

He waved a hand, brushing Sawyer and Vance aside like static. Then he took my hand and turned toward the staircase. "Upstairs." He didn't ask. He just led. I followed. Dick trailed behind, thankfully silent. The second floor was sealed off and strange--walls damp, air thick. The floor gave way spongily, like rotting fruit. Clusters of mushroom-like growths lined the corners. Spores drifted through the air like dust motes that didn't belong. Sebastian moved through the space slowly, scanning the room like he was looking for something.

"Access requires a triple-thread authorization." "DNA. Retinal. And the Blood-Covenant," Elena snapped. She held her still-bandaged finger to the glass. The elevator didn't go down. It felt as though the world itself were shifting around her. With a heavy, tectonic groan, the car descended past the foundation, past the subway lines, into the bedrock of the city. The doors opened to a room filled with the smell of ozone and ancient paper. This was the Everett Black-Site. Thousands of glass cylinders lined the walls, each containing a physical and digital backup of every secret the family had ever bought, sold, or stolen.

I move toward the drainage pipe. The interior is narrow, wet, and smells of decay. I crawl through the darkness guided by estimation and memory. The same careful calculation that once built Kade Systems from nothing. The pipe opens into a utility room. Ancient boilers. Disconnected electrical panels. A staircase leading upward. I climb. Second floor. Emergency lighting reduced to a single bulb. Shadows that could hide anything. "Adrian." My voice is barely a whisper. Meant only for him, if he is here and able to answer.

"But you said it yourself—Onyx is blind in the Dead Zones. We need to go back to the physical server racks. The ones that aren't connected to the main network. The ones you kept for legacy storage because you didn't trust the cloud." They forced the elevator doors open and jumped down into the dark hallway, running back toward the basement. The house was now in total, screaming chaos. The walls were humming with a high-pitched sound that made Iris’s teeth ache. Water from the fire sprinklers began to rain down in a heavy deluge, but there was no fire. The smart-glass walls were turning opaque and then clear again, like the blinking eyes of a giant, dying beast. They reached the secondary ser