The Backrooms Decrypted: Going Insane In The Abandoned Office (Level 4)

Abandoned Office is another name for The Backrooms Level 4. It is SAFE, SECURE, and contains a MINIMAL ENTITY COUNT with a survival difficulty rating of CLASS 1. Level 4 is almost entirely devoid of furniture, but it resembles an empty office building. The majority of the rooms on this level have been completely darkened, but some do have windows. Any windows that haven't been covered in black are considered traps, so stay away from them at all costs. The majority of entities are absent from Level 4. The only species that have been seen are Hounds and Dullers. There is no proof of one person's claim that they saw a Smiler. There are a lot of people on Level 4 as a result of this dearth of beings.

By InfoPublished 2 years ago • 5 min read

The Backrooms: Abandoned Office (Level 4)

Dear Explorer, welcome. We pull you back in just when you think you're out, don't we? But don't be concerned. As you travel further into the liminal nightmare known as "The Backrooms," we'll be here to keep you company. And hey, would you look at that? You're on Level 4!
What a stunning location. Take a deep breath and inhale the aromas of burning rubber and warm, fresh copy paper. Toes can be spread out on the shorn, grey carpet. Observe the many anodyne walls' gloriously broad palette of gray. This level is referred to as "The Abandoned Office" for a reason. In a depressing way, it's funny.

It's possible that earlier levels had a more overtly ominous or perilous appearance, but this one gives you a peculiar shiver. You proceed in eerie silence, keeping a safe distance from the wire-encrusted pillars that, in your mind, might be hiding any number of strange, aggressive monsters. As you go along, a strange lump forms in your throat. You've already been here. The offices back in your home reality are, if not exactly here, then somewhere close. You were an intern, rushing to get coffee orders and trying your hardest to remember the names of your superiors. You were never in a position you were proud of.

Words you didn't understand or care about were flying by you at a mile per minute as you dutifully took down notes. When you were at your most powerful, you were just another numbers droid, entering anonymous data for purposes above and beyond your pay grade into vast, mysterious systems. You never accomplished anything worthwhile, and the pitiful paycheck you received each month served only to confirm this. On Level 4, it feels as though you are passing through the remains of a life you have left behind.

A reminder of the emptiness you fled from and the even greater emptiness you have now found yourself in. Even though you haven't yet come into contact with a hostile creature here, you can already feel your heart racing with an even more intense form of existential dread. The Backrooms' eerie silence draws attention to how loud your thoughts are. When you first made up your mind to go into the backrooms, there were a lot of things you told yourself you were escaping from.

Bills, taxes, commitments, alienation, aimlessness, suffering, regret, debt, lost years, a subpar home, a subpar job, no family, and no friends. Not really surviving, not really living, and just being. On Level 4, however, you notice that your perspective is clearer. Yes, all of those things are problems, but they weren't the main issue you were trying to avoid. In reality, what you were really avoiding was being yourself. Sadly, you are also present. You make an effort to rid yourself of these depressing ideas. What good does it do you to believe these things? It's all about survival in The Backrooms.

The truly dangerous creature that lurks out here in the labyrinth of hallways, electrical pillars, and abandoned dust-gathering cubicles will take advantage of you if you find yourself slipping too much into your own internality. You must always be fully aware of your surroundings and the present. The atmosphere at Level 4 has a peculiarly compelling quality. It's strangely more inviting here than a lot of what you've seen, despite the fact that you have your own very personal existential baggage. It lacks a never-ending drone, touch-deathly walls, nauseating damp carpets, and an air filled with toxic fumes. It seems to be a moment in time from 1999, right before the turn of the millennium and the beginning of the end of the world.

Merely devoid of any of the inhabitants. At the very least, that much can be expected of the backrooms. You move through doors marked in a language that you don't even recognize and through dimly lit corridors. You should already be familiar with the procedure, Explorer. You must look for supplies, other amiable explorers who are trapped here with you, and, of course, an exit to the next level. Hours pass as you continue to walk, only pausing now and then to sit in a swiveling office chair for your own amusement. When compared to the previous levels' onslaught of vicious creatures, this level's lack of entities seems almost conspicuous.

Not that you would want to look a well-earned breather in the mouth. You can't help but think that this level has another oddity. Before this one, you haven't seen any windows in a Backrooms level. Naturally, some of them are completely blacked out, as is to be expected. However, some of them appear genuine and let in actual light. Does this imply that there is an exit, or at least some sort of externality, to the otherwise claustrophobic nightmare that is The Backrooms?

Hesitantly, without even daring to hope, you walk up to one of the windows. It seems obvious that something must be emitting all of this light, but when you look outside, you see something else impossible that seems to be typical of this perplexing alternate reality. Built into an endless tesseract of walls was a spiral made of thousands of additional parallel windows. It continues into a sort of inky, oblivious infinity down below. A part of you wonders what would happen if you smashed the window open and leaped out, but you are also aware that it might go on for billions of miles and that there might not even be a bottom.

You might be destined to starve to death while in the air. So perhaps it's not the best idea to embark on an experiment, you reason. However, this does open up a number of intriguing new research directions. You are aware that this is the view from one of the windows. Who is to say that it won't be the same as the others? You have already accessed new levels via a variety of means, including doors, elevators, and clipping. Who is to say that you won't climb through an office window on Level 4 to reach Level 5? So you start looking in the windows.

You are soon led down a long, dark corridor by a small group of people carrying weapons and flashlights. Even though it ends with a glowing green sign that appears to point toward an exit from the base. The lettering appears to be difficult for you to read. You take a gulp and proceed, unsure of what you're doing. Perhaps you ought to pay attention to the other explorers. Perhaps the best course of action would be to simply remain here. You can surely reconcile the past with the present. But then again, would you ever have visited the Backrooms if that had been the case? You inhale deeply before entering. Greetings from Level 5, Explorer. Stay tuned as we continue our investigation into the Backrooms. Deeper into this Liminal Abyss?

Excerpt Young Adult Satire Mystery Horror Historical Classical

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