I am tired, but I do not remember how to sleep. I am ravenously hungered, but I do not know how to eat. I have no memory of where I am or how I got here. The dark corner in which I crouch is my only haven. I have not ventured away from this area, for I feel as if these horrible entities will know where I stand. I hear no sound. Sight is near impossible. There seems to be a dim glow illuminating my surroundings. However, I cannot locate the source of the mysterious light. Occasionally, I can catch glimpses of unsettling shadows, dancing on the old and charred wooden walls. They lurk.

I have lost track of the time and date. Normal emotion hides from me, appearing only when necessary. I know only raging anxiety and paranoia, accompanied by my old friend, fear. I remember the threatening, strange entities. They would catch me when I was alone in the darkness and torment me. Flashing images of my memories and failure would overwhelm me, and several times, this phenomenon resulted in my fainting. Fainting. That oddly familiar word floods my withered soul with pain and loss. The terror grows. They lurk closer.

Panic rises in my throat. I need to escape, but where to? The wall? I gasp, a sudden idea striking me like lightning. Balling my fist, I smash it into the brittle timber and pound the wall furiously, itching to escape this agony. With a final strike, the facade crumbles and gives way to a brighter area. The lighting is still dull and condemning, but a bit more bright. I conclude that the source of the unidentified glowing is in this very room. Immediately, I decide to search.

I rush around in the dimness, sifting through the scattered rubble of the burnt wall. After about 30 seconds of hurriedly digging through the mess, my hand comes into contact with a soft, fleshy object. I grasp the fuzzy thing, lifting it carefully out of the mess. Not bothering to examine it, I hurry towards a nearby desk that was left unscathed despite the destruction of the opposing wall. I dash under it and cradle the warm fluffiness in my arms and lap. I now have time to identify my find before they get to me. I can see even better now. The object is not a thing, but a creature. It possesses an elongated, ratlike snout and small, frail appendages. On it's back, blotches of exposed skin radiate a faint luminosity. The smoldering patches remind me of a dying flame...

Memory slams into me like a tank. You were so young. So happy. So innocent. Remember when you received that wonderful game? You know, the one with an odd creature on the sticker? The cartridge was a brilliant color. You were more happy than anyone else. You were overjoyed. You couldn't wait to play it, and you did. You played it for quite a long time. After a while, though, you got bored and moved on to the newer games. You left us. You left me.

My attention snaps back to reality, forcing me to recall my situation and identity. I glance around, hoping that they have not arrived yet. I notice that the creature's eyes have opened. It had small,

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