Fable opened his eyes, and what he saw was a ceiling speckled with green mold. He took a light breath but immediately felt discomfort in his lungs and quickly sat up.
"Where is this?"
He looked around and found himself in a decrepit house. The room was about 15 square meters in size, its furniture peeling, worm-eaten, and blackened—all bearing the marks of age.
Sunlight fought its way through thick layers of dust, barely illuminating the ground.
Fable approached the window. As he moved, the dust along his path shifted with him. In the beams of light, he could even make out the tiny fluctuations in the dust's motion. When he reached the window and extended his right hand to push it, he discovered that the window wouldn't budge an inch.
At this moment, the prompt from Hell's Movie sounded in his mind.
