Survival Log, Day 4
It has officially been my fourth day since arriving here and there has been no rhyme or reason to the rules of this place. I've decided to keep a Log in this old prompt log I found stashed around page 4. Hopefully it will help me keep my sanity.
To start, let's go over with what I know.
One, there's no need to eat here. I do sleep though. But there isn't anything like food or water, or even anything resembling the concepts of them. The whole place is- Digital. Not in a normal way but in an early 2000s way. I can tell that its a physical space, but somehow, in the back of my mind there's this feeling- Like it isn't physical. I /feel/ like I'm ones and zeroes pushing through space. Just like I know implicitly that I'm nearly being pushed into page 3.
Let's go over the space itself then, if you can even call it a space.
There are pages, and you know them when you feel them. As you pass through the domain you can find homes that are either occupied or not. Each is labeled an "application". For a while I didn't know what it meant for them to be empty, but I think I get it now.
They're not leaving. They're being taken. By /it/.
I've gotten a look at it, or at least, what could constitute looking at it in this sphere. When I first saw it I thought it was a pig, giant with a snout, strange looking thing. But the more I looked, the more my brain started to tell me it was a- Fish. A pigfish. I've started to call it that, if only so that the image doesn't keep shifting.
When the pigfish comes it takes. I don't know why or how, but it takes people from their homes. And then the homes become unoccupied. I've never seen or talked to a person while I've been here, but they're definitely there. I can /feel/ them there. But then they're gone.
And they don't come back.
I've been trying to figure out what to do. Do I want to be taken? I feel like I do but- Its strange. I know I exist here, I know that before this I was- Somewhere. I don't know what comes next. It feels like I'll move on from this strange purgatory, but I don't know if it'll be a joyful parting. Where do they go? What is the pigfish? And how does it choose?
I have no idea. I've decided to just study the pigfish further. Maybe I can find a rhyme or reason for who it takes. In the mean time, I've found another phenomena. The homes move. They're slowly trickling down the pages, and more are generating on page 1 each day. I'm nearly on page 3 now, and I can't deny a tinge of fear.
Am I more scared of being pushed to page 3 than I am of being taken by the pigfish?
I don't know.
~ S