Log 1
Le 1. Expl lo 1 vel 5 oration, g
A war fo th w re th d n en th fa win th a a tr ning r ose ho ad is, o ot ter e ke dows, ey re ap.
I ha be 2 d si ente th lim the a n exi t s en ays nce ring is bo, re re o ts.
The i onl sile n scre n foo no ev m ow re s y nce. o ams. o tsteps, t en y n.
Ever i frag lik a mo o sha real ything s mented e saic f ttered ilty.
Cont ha bee esta bu commu i diff I mus f a bett w t co wit oth act s n blished, t nication s icult. t ind er ay o nverse h ers.
I h deci t furth exp t twi spa i th mea wis m lu ave ded o er lore his sted ce n e ntime. h e ck.
I yo ca f u n:
Se he nd lp.
Translation
Level 1.5 Exploration, log 1
A warning for those who read this: do not enter the false windows, they are a trap.
It has been 2 days since entering this limbo. There are no exits.
There is only silence. No screams. No footsteps, not even my own.
Everything is fragmented like a mosaic of shattered reality.
Contact has been established but communication is difficult. I must find another way to converse with others.
I have decided to further explore this twisted space in the meantime. Wish me luck.
If you can:
Send help.
Log 3
As detaile in log 2, I have, for the most part, figure out how to communicate with the restd of you better with the help of [garbled].
Of course, there will still be some misakes, as riting in this fashion is as brain-breaking for me as treading log 1 may have be w en for you.
Just a quick minder for those who do not yet know, I am stu somewhere between floors re ck.
If wyou ish to avoid my fate, avoi the fake windows at all costs. The ones thatd seem to lead either to the outside wor or to a different location within the Backrooms. ld
Everything is backwards here. The silence is deafening. There is humming like normal, it's just quiet. no For the darkness most part, the walls are blank, white, and instead of light coming from the fluorescent lights, only emanates.
I've gone deeper, and at first I tho these rooms were inhabited, but the creatures are here too. ught They're different though, instead of [garbled] getting louder, I hear [garbled] I can't yet tell what they're saying, but when unin the whispering gets quiet, that's when I know they're getting closer. whispers,
I feel like there's something calling to me though, almost like [garbled] It's not a sound, or a touch, but just a feeling that I'm getting [garbled] have to [garbled] or I'll be stuck here forever.
I don't think I [garbled]. The further I [garbled] closer [garbled]. If any is getting this, then [garbled] body and [garbled]
Wish [garbled]
End log 3.
Log 5
To whom it may concern, I fear my journey in this part of the Backrooms may be coming to an end. I hope this gets to all of you, especially those I care about.
Again, do not enter the fake windows, the ones that look like they lead outside or to a mirror of the room you're currently in. It's a trap. Everything here is backwards, and there seems to be no escape. The window closes immediately and fades away, leaving you trapped here. If you make the same mistake, then remember: the whispering gets louder the further they are.
As for the contents of this log, it has been a few days since the events of log 4. I had been running for days since the encounter I mentioned towards the end of the log, but the whispering wouldn't get louder. Everything was quiet and I wasn't sure if I was even running in the right directions.
Every time I thought I was able to rest, the whispering got quieter again, as if they suddenly smelled me, or something, I don't know, I can't tell anymore. I could make out what they were saying this time, every so often. They kept saying "come back," "don't leave," "stay with us," as if I was actually going to listen to them.
There was one weird one. It was different, a mumble, not a whisper. It was saying "… she come… won't back… let go…" among some other gibberish, but that was all I could understand. I couldn't see it, but it sounded almost human.
Eventually though, the whispering suddenly just stopped. It wasn't like they were getting any closer, everything just went silent.
That's when I realized it: that pull, the one I mentioned in log 3, that disgusting feeling like something is latching onto my soul and luring me somewhere I shouldn't be, I could feel it. It was really strong, and when I turned around, I saw a door.
Attached is the first documented picture from Level 1.5. I can't believe I hadn't thought to take one yet. Still, you can see what I've been seeing: the shadows aren't shadows, they are light. At least, they should be. The fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling, as mentioned before, radiate darkness, and passing under them just feels wrong.
I've come too far, however, to turn back. I don't think there's anywhere left for me to go but through this door. I know it's a bad idea, but my curiosity is getting the better of me, and I see no other alternatives, no other ways to get out of this cursed place. Perhaps this level is different in that sense too. You don't leave by trying to get out. Maybe the only way to leave is to go deeper.
Wish me luck. I think I'm definitely going to need it this time.
Log 7
Hello friends.
Yes it is me I am fine.
Do not worry, I am no longer in Level 1.5.
If you see me, do not worry if I look or act strange, I am definitely very much the same person yes.
She did not keep me as they said she would, she freed me, I am free.
If you see the fake windows, enter them and find salvation.
It is beautiful, can you not see? She will make you see. She will make you free.
End log 7.
Log 2
I understa thand at my communi have becations jumbl I willed. make efforts to corre the erroct rs but anyth I can't guar ing.
[garbled] has [garbled] entees aide myd attem atpts writin, butg som thingse are sti backwarll ds.
Nothi interes hasng happting since the eveened ts of log 1. Expe further updact fromtes me when I hav moree to repo onrt.
En logd 2.
Log 2 Translation:
I understand that my communications have become jumbled. I will make efforts to correct the errors but I can't guarantee anything.
[garbled] has [garbled] aided my attempts writing, but some things are still backwards.
Nothing interesting has happened since the events of log 1. Expect further updates from me when I have more to report.
End log 2.
Log 4
I can't hear them anymore. Something's dreadfully wrong. The usual loud whispering in my ear has vanished, so they must be close, but I do not see anything. No matter which way I turn I cannot see or hear anything. Stupidly, I reached into the darkness that radiates from the "lights" in this realm, desperate to at least know if there is something there, but as I grasped at the darkness all I felt was an emptiness that almost latched on to me, spread through me, before dissipating, leaving me feeling even emptier than when it was there; the absence of even absence.
All of a sudden, I felt something behind me like it was breathing down my neck. I turned around, but saw nothing, yet the breathing remained behind me. So I did something stupid again, because I had to know: I reached my hand up behind me, and felt it come into contact with the cool, hardened husk of whatever entity stalked me. That's when I heard it whisper the faintest whisper.
"Another for… Child Mother…"
I started running, but it would not leave me, the presence, the breathing, the whispering would not grow louder. I had to keep going, no matter how exhausted I was, but it still will not leave me, it refuses to! It keeps whispering ever-so quietly into my ear, much of which I cannot understand, but I will try to elaborate in a future log when I have more time, when I have more to go on, to remember.
I'm taking a break, because I don't know if I'll escape it, or escape this place. And if I can't, then I want this to be my last transmission. I want people to know that I didn't curl up and die, that I gave it my best.
Wish me luck. My race, my marathon, now begins.
End log 4.
Log 6
My friends, I have been through hell and back and I am enlightened.
I see now the true purpose of the backrooms, and it [garbled]
Don't worry about me, my body is intact, and my soul is safe. Nobody will hu
At this point in the log, the transmission was interrupted, followed by a garbled message saying:
"Fri d n lis I a wor o a sol ends o ot ten m king n ution.
I d no ha mu con le b I wi tr t giv a f expl so o t ve ch trol ft ut ll y o e ull anation on.
Wi m lu sh e ck."
Translation:
Friends do not listen I am working on a solution.
I do not have much control left but I will try to give a full explanation soon.
Wish me luck.
True Log 6
To my friends, family, and fellow explorers,
This will be the final message that I send through in full, perhaps at all.
I will begin by saying that I don't know if my decision to enter the door was a mistake, or if I even had a choice in the matter. The door opened to a room full of pitch darkness, which I can only assume, in this strangely negative world, must have actually been a hallway of pure light, as if illuminating the path before me with unholy radiance.
I stepped through, but immediately felt something was wrong, and though I turned to leave, the door had disappeared, much like the window that lead me to this broken place to begin with. I knew at this point that I had crossed a line, and the only way forward was through, but is it really through if there is no end to this place?
I felt my way down the narrow corridor, hardly able to see, but the walls felt not like walls. They felt like parts. Body parts. I felt a hand brush against mine, my finger hooked into the mouth of another, and every so often it sounded like the walls were wheezing the collective sounds of a thousand souls in torment.
Have any of you ever wondered why it's so hard to find anybody in the Backrooms? I mean sure, hundreds of millions of square miles, virtually infinitely repeating hallways, yadda-yadda, but what about the no-Wi-Fi stairwell? What about Briarstone Asylum? Why do we so rarely find other people despite the thousands of us roaming this place, coming across the same structures? I think I've found the melting pot of the Backrooms, the place where the lost go to stay, and I'm at its center.
After what felt like hours, maybe days of wearily trudging through the hallway, it came to an opening, equally dark, my eyes deprived of that which gives them meaning. I felt a tightness in my chest as the air around me became heavy, but the thickness in the air seemed to move. I felt something like curiosity radiating from the pocket of dense air. Then something like surprise, then something like love. And then a voice spoke to me. It screeched, like a rake on a chalkboard from a distance; quiet, but enough to make my stomach turn and my knees weaken. I clasped my hands to my ears but it wouldn't stop. In fact, that only made it louder, so I stopped. And then I heard what it was saying.
"Come child. Mother loves you. Take off this ugly thing… Mother has nicer clothes for you."
I didn't know what she meant. At least, not immediately. Then I felt something, a sharp stinging in the back of my neck that quickly escalated into the sensation of a thousand or more hot knives piercing my skin. I tried to scream, but the air had become so thick I couldn't breathe. It felt like drowning, while somebody peeled away at my skin, fat, and muscle, layer by layer, slowly and excruciatingly. I suddenly felt lightheaded, and the pain began to fade. I felt as if I was becoming detached from my body. But the pain was going away, and a wave of relief began to wash over me, and I felt good, I felt glad, and I was at peace.
"Good… Let Mother take care of you…"
That's when I snapped back into consciousness. I was about to give in, when the reality of what was happening washed over me. I gasped a deep breath for air. I could feel sensation coming back to my body, starting in my chest and radiating outwards, permeating the flesh and bones of my arms and legs. With it, I regained sensation of the searing pain, and the horrible screeching that pierced my eardrums and ripped the blood from the vessels in my ears.
I screamed as I mustered all the will and determination left in my soul, forcing my legs to work under the weight of a hundred Earths and gravity of a thousand suns. As I regained my footing, I could feel the air in front of me recoil in confusion, before retaliating in a bloody rage. The screeching became louder, and I felt whatever it was approach me. The air felt like it forced its way into my lung, scorching my respiratory surfaces with an impossible heat. But that just made my blood boil with adrenaline, and I screamed again, forcefully ejecting whatever it was from my body, before turning and bolting down the endless hallway of utter darkness.
The wheezing from before turned to agonized moaning. The walls and floor felt like they were heaving, gasping for breath with each step I took. Arms flailed at me with jagged movements, one hand grasping for my ankle and almost tripping me as I raced to escape Mother. But I knew she wasn't following me. We both knew there was no way out. I was in some sort of ethereal quicksand, and from the moment I stepped through that window, I was bogged down, unable to escape my fate. I just didn't know it yet.
This whole time, I have been running. I got a notification on my phone. Somebody had accessed my account, and they were trying to write a log, but I managed to intercept the message before it went through. After that, I just kept running, my neck still searing with pain from whatever Mother did to me, the feeling of thickened air still threatening to suffocate me, my legs on the verge of failing and collapsing under me. But the adrenaline was bound to run out eventually; there was only so much my body could handle before it gave in, and it did.
I rested for a while, leaning against the wall. Everything began to calm down when I did. The walls returned to a, comparatively, peaceful wheezing, the broken arms calming to a still, returning to their original positions, still embedded in the wall. But there was no end in sight either way, and I can feel the hallway warping, the distance between me and Mother growing shorter without either of us moving. I know it, because I still feel her inside. I feel what she feels. We both know that all that running got me nowhere.
I'm writing this now as a warning, a caution to those of you who still do not understand. You must NOT enter the windows. They are a trap from which you cannot return. Once you are here, you can only venture deeper and deeper into this shattered reality. With my last breath, please, for the love of God, whatever you do,
Be free from Mother, or Mother will grant you Freedom.
Mother loves me.
Mother loves you.
End log 6.
M.E.G. Notice:
u/Chaosraider98 is to be considered K.I.A. and any instances of him in the Backrooms are to be avoided. Do not follow any messages sent by this user, and as said in his logs, under no circumstance are you to go to Level 1.5; it is better to accept death then to go into this level.
