The Brink
I love my boyfriend. When I have time, I try to be a dutiful girlfriend. But I have a confession to make: I never visit him at work. In fact, I can’t stand to go to his office. And you’ll understand why, if you’ve ever heard of the Brink.
Zach works as an art therapist at an insane asylum. I have no problem with asylums: I used to sneak into an abandoned one late at night, when I went goth as a teenager, and believe me, I had some good times and some good scares. But that doesn’t compare to the Brinkvale Psychiatric Hospital. In a nation of wretched institutions, it’s the wretchedest I’ve ever seen.
As you probably know, the Brink was built in a quarry. The first floor starts at the top. The rest of the floors go down, underground, nine stories into that quarry. The electricity’s shoddy and the staff don’t make much. And the most hopeless cases in New York find their way down there.
Friday, Zach asked me to swing by.
“I forgot my lunch,” he told me, calling on my cell. I had the day off for a doctor’s appointment and some gaming, and I had no excuse. He knows I hate the Brink, but he hates buying himself a lunch. I paused on the phone, too long to sell an excuse. Dammit – I’d have to go over there.
The thing with the Brink: it gives me the heebies. At the same time, I’ll admit I’m intrigued. The last time I visited, I had a shocking sense of déjà vu as I realized what the entire setting – the bare grey walls, the flickering lights, the childish scrawls on the official bulletin boards – looks like a video game. But is it a survival horror? Or a first-person shooter? When the crazies come, do I get to shoot back?
Zach told me not to bother with Reception: the back door would get me in faster, sans pass. So I went in a forgotten-looking door in the “attic” level, the only part of the building above ground. It was a thick steel panel in a crumbling brick wall, and it shut behind me with a solid clang like something you’d hear in prison. I didn’t even check if it would open again.
I was standing in a bleak stairwell that plunged eight stories down. That’s it. Gray walls, black metal railings, a steel door, and intermittently flickering light from a profoundly unenthusiastic incandescent fixture. Less than thirty seconds with the place and I already felt depressed. This is where they take people to get better!?
I started down the stairs. Level Two - the numbers go down, not up - had disturbing stains on the landing and an inexplicable puddle. The light kept flickering. I wished I had a gun barrel hovering in front of me, and I felt the urge to start strafing around the corners to keep my back to the wall.
At Level Three – Zach’s floor – I tried the door. It was locked.
Crap, crap, crap. Okay, down to Level Four - maybe I could find an elevator. This door was open. I stepped into a dim, deserted looking hallway floored with ragged green tile. Regular indentations contained metal doors. I felt a looming pressure, as if the facility were underwater.
A faint scratching came from the door closest to me, and I jumped before I could stop myself. The scratching stopped abruptly, replaced by a soft muttering, then humming. Like a lullaby. (I caught a few words, vek nisht something or other — German, isn’t it, for “don’t wake up?”) The last time I’ve encountered sound design this creepy was when I played Bioshock in the dark. Again, I wished for anything to grip in my hands. I definitely would have settled for a crowbar.
I rounded the corner – and bumped into a shambling, poorly animated doctor. His face was Uncanny-Valley-level plasticky, and he struggled to meet my eyes. Sound design A+, Brinkvale. Character design, C-.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped. “This level’s off-limits to everyone but staff.” Then he stopped, sized me up a bit more thoroughly, and shifted his facial muscles into something resembling a smile while his gaze dropped to my chest. It doesn’t take that long to see I don’t have a visitor pass.
“You must be lost,” he smarmed. “Why don’t you come to my office, and we can figure out where you’re trying to get to?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” I told him. “Just trying to get to the third floor so I can take my boyfriend his lunch.”
He moved closer, put a hand on the wall to block my way, and leaned obnoxiously. “Non-staff personnel require a staff escort everywhere but the first level, my dear.”
If I had a shotgun right now, I could shoot out the lights and get past him while he was still caught off-guard…
Actually, if I had a shotgun right now, I could just shoot him.
“I’m sure I can find my way to Zach’s office without an escort. Thanks.” I tried to keep my voice neutral.
His face twisted in a moue of distaste. “Zach Taylor?” He made an abrupt motion, as if to say “shoo.” “There’s a stairwell over there. He’s on the third floor, right outside it.”
Level goal accomplished. Alas, with no shooting. But I kept my nerve. I got out alive.
On the way back out, I took the elevator.
03/11/2008 at 5:05 pm Permalink
I get a similar ‘this looks like a game’ feeling at times, which helps with my game design hobby, I’m always looking out for cool architecture or room design that would just be sweet to play in. Either way, cool site, I like your style, hopefully I’ll remember your url so I can stumble my way back here sometime.
03/11/2008 at 7:07 pm Permalink
Please do - I’ll be right here!
Intrigued by your posts over on L. B.’s column … … what do you do by way of game design?
03/11/2008 at 10:02 pm Permalink
Well a hobby of mine is game design.. I’d prefer if it was game /creation/, but I usually don’t get to the creation point. I also mod for EDGE, which is a Doom source port - something about using antiquated technology with obvious limitations interests me, I enjoy pushing someone else’s boundaries rather than just my own.
Either way, game design/development is something I’d like to do for a living, and I’m slowing working my way toward that, it’s actually why I started my wordpress site, I was hoping to write up about my progress on various projects.. but the current wave of awesome games is eating up most of my free time. But at least they give me something to write about (I’m looking to expand my writing skills, I’m also interested in video game journalism).
You’ll be happy to know I have enough keywords burnt into my mind that I’ll certainly be able to google my way back here when I forget the 707 bit.
09/06/2009 at 7:17 pm Permalink
Funny, I thought I was the only one who though certain places looked like video game settings.