Transliminal: Beyond The Backrooms

The year is 1983. After a skydiving accident, you awaken with your cheek pressed against a damp beige carpet. The tacky, off-white wallpaper looks yellow on your video camera's view screen. The fluorescent lights, randomly placed in the drop ceiling above, buzz loudly as they bathe the place in their sickly glow. And what is that smell? Sounds echo through the endless halls from no clear direction. And it feels as if someone, or something, is watching you. You aren't sure where you ended up. But...