Excerpt: Existence Undefined

Nothing exists but a hill and a house. Leaves crunch beneath his feet as he walks up the paved path and opens the carved wooden door into an ancient Victorian house. With wary steps he creeps along the wooden floors, minding the shattered holes and bits of furniture that lace his path.

His pulse is racing as his footsteps carry him farther, a sinking feeling in his stomach burning a hole in his insides.

He knows he should not be here.

The door slams shut behind him, obliterating the only light in the decaying, supposedly haunted house, and only now does he begin to regret ever making that bet.

Deep breath, deep breath.

Heart pounding, he crams his hand into his pocket, withdrawing a flashlight with which to illume the gloomy space.

Deep breath, deep breath.

He makes his way up the stairs, testing his weight with each new step. The terror of death by splinter continues to lord over his thoughts as the only sounds around him are the whimpers of the staircase and his own heavy breathing that hitches with each new movement. At last he reaches the top. He wanders through the mess of halls, the beam of light sliding over dilapidated rooms and gliding over the dust and the cobwebs and the time-tested wood.

Suddenly the ceiling erupts into a cacophony of sounds: thumps and creaks and groans that are nearly drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding his quivering chest into submission.

“Is someone there?” he calls, attempting to sound less panicked than he was.

“Who's there?”

He spins around, all terror and breathlessness, and then a silhouette of dangling hair and incandescent light. There are eyes full of curiosity staring into his soul.

His heart stops. I'm dead. I'm dead.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I-I'm...” Pause. Step closer. “Who are you?”

“Why, I'm the White Rabbit,” he giggles, the laughter echoing off the walls.”

Zeke moves the flashlight up, and sees--