From within the dusty halls of the long-decrepit facility, the squealing of an intercom system being roused from its long slumber echoed. The sputtering pop-hiss of static followed, for several seconds, before fading into the almost pleasant crackly near-silence of old-timey radio transmissions. A pleasing, whimsical jingle resounded with a tinny chorus of notes from several chiming bells, giving rise to a rousing fiddle number fading out into silence again.
"Goooooood evening, ladies and gentlemen!" A voice blared out, filled with the same charming crackle and pop of primitive radio. "I hope everyone enjoyed their time off. Maybe a few days for some of you, maybe a few decades for others! IIIIIIII'M LOOKIN' AT YOOOUUU, JOHNNY! Thirty-seven years is plenty of vacation time!"
Lights began to flicker on, slowly and one by one. Hissing, sparking and fizzling pops and cracks as the power slowly led to illumination. Many an ancient bulb actually burst, sending cascading showers of sparks to falls and nearly catch fire in errant cobwebs. But within moments, a fresh new lightbulb grew in its place, like some grotesque flower of glass and metal, and beautifully sparkled to life.
Where the light fell, the years of neglect, wear, tear, and general disuse immediately faded. Cobwebs disappeared, dust of ages vanished to be replaced only by the magnificent sparkle and shine of immaculate cleanliness, the ancient speakers and sagging cables all at once blessed with decades of innovation. Lighting fixtures themselves went from grimy old inefficient fluorescent cages to wonderful new (and mercifully silent) fixtures with a clean white light. Old posters and advertisements, many decades out of date, found themselves seamlessly replaced with new ones.
Doors hissed and whirred open, lights in bedrooms flickering on. The workers there, whisked away from whatever precious interdimensional vacation they had been enjoying, groaned and did everything from hop up to eagerly return to work, to lazily sprawl and flop out of bed to only grudgingly go about their tasks.
"The time has come at last, yes indeed it has," this time, the voice that came through the speakers was crystal-clear, and spoke with a soft musical edge that every individual there recognized, and which they all shared a simultaneous shiver as it crawled up their collective spines at just hearing it again. "A show to put on, and a game to be played, far better than the last."
In the main hall, an elevator slowly descended, the numbers denoting its floor glimmering a cheery shade of red. The fact they went far higher than what the staff knew as the highest floor only added to the unease as they hurriedly tugged on uniforms -- suits, gloves, masks, misplaced nametags all -- and set about frantically rushing to their posts to begin the preparations they need make.
"It must be perfect, as all should know, and by no means lame," the elevator finally reached the base level, and with a soft ding! its doors slowly opened with a silent whisper of machinery, casting a soft pale yellow glow out into the hall, and casting the sole occupant of the elevator into a scarlet-hued shadow from the light glancing off his suit. "And anyone who misses their cue to make it so, will be another player in my dear Game."
"Goooooood evening, ladies and gentlemen!" A voice blared out, filled with the same charming crackle and pop of primitive radio. "I hope everyone enjoyed their time off. Maybe a few days for some of you, maybe a few decades for others! IIIIIIII'M LOOKIN' AT YOOOUUU, JOHNNY! Thirty-seven years is plenty of vacation time!"
Lights began to flicker on, slowly and one by one. Hissing, sparking and fizzling pops and cracks as the power slowly led to illumination. Many an ancient bulb actually burst, sending cascading showers of sparks to falls and nearly catch fire in errant cobwebs. But within moments, a fresh new lightbulb grew in its place, like some grotesque flower of glass and metal, and beautifully sparkled to life.
Where the light fell, the years of neglect, wear, tear, and general disuse immediately faded. Cobwebs disappeared, dust of ages vanished to be replaced only by the magnificent sparkle and shine of immaculate cleanliness, the ancient speakers and sagging cables all at once blessed with decades of innovation. Lighting fixtures themselves went from grimy old inefficient fluorescent cages to wonderful new (and mercifully silent) fixtures with a clean white light. Old posters and advertisements, many decades out of date, found themselves seamlessly replaced with new ones.
Doors hissed and whirred open, lights in bedrooms flickering on. The workers there, whisked away from whatever precious interdimensional vacation they had been enjoying, groaned and did everything from hop up to eagerly return to work, to lazily sprawl and flop out of bed to only grudgingly go about their tasks.
"The time has come at last, yes indeed it has," this time, the voice that came through the speakers was crystal-clear, and spoke with a soft musical edge that every individual there recognized, and which they all shared a simultaneous shiver as it crawled up their collective spines at just hearing it again. "A show to put on, and a game to be played, far better than the last."
In the main hall, an elevator slowly descended, the numbers denoting its floor glimmering a cheery shade of red. The fact they went far higher than what the staff knew as the highest floor only added to the unease as they hurriedly tugged on uniforms -- suits, gloves, masks, misplaced nametags all -- and set about frantically rushing to their posts to begin the preparations they need make.
"It must be perfect, as all should know, and by no means lame," the elevator finally reached the base level, and with a soft ding! its doors slowly opened with a silent whisper of machinery, casting a soft pale yellow glow out into the hall, and casting the sole occupant of the elevator into a scarlet-hued shadow from the light glancing off his suit. "And anyone who misses their cue to make it so, will be another player in my dear Game."