A/N: One night when I was bored, I whipped this right up in about an hour or so. This is a short story of what I remember of the part where you get the Cellar Key in the popular video game, Amnesia: The Dark Descent. It's based on my personal experiences-a true recreation of my reaction to the part. Only I added in the chase scene because it added a fun little climax to the story. Bam. Enjoy it, if you can. This is honestly not quite my best work.

What In God's Name Is That Thing? ~ An Amnesia One-shot

Daniel sidled down the furnished hallway, squinting against the proximity of the oil lamp he held in hand as he gently swung it to-and-fro, trying to find a candle or something he could light in order to preserve his precarious—and fast waning—supply of oil for his lamp.

He was of smaller build, and his strength was questionable. The man couldn't remember a damn thing since he had drank… a potion? What kind of potion was made especially for amnesia anyway?

At any rate, he was suffering from a bad case of amnesia, although he was retaining some memories, but they only came to him through vivid flashbacks—they always came at startlingly inopportune times, as he fancied them.

He stroked his hand through his short, unkempt dark hair and blew a gasping sigh, his head shuddering about on his neck.

This is crazy, he kept repeating in his mind.

Daniel came upon a sizeable hall, with large windows on the huge far wall, and on the far end to his right he spied a small fireplace. There was an enormous, intricately designed rug laid out on the floor, encompassing nearly the entirety of the room's floorboards. On the end to the right was a painting, and directly to the right of that was a door which led to…

He hadn't been there, yet, now had he?

Silly Daniel, getting ahead of yourself.

He exhaled slowly as he snuck in the direction of that door, all against his better judgment. But alas, no matter how much he didn't want to go anywhere in this dark, completely mysterious and foreign castle, he had little choice but to trudge as bravely as he could manage through the dimly-lit halls.

As he came within ten feet of the portal, he heard a sloppy grunting from somewhere he couldn't know. He immediately threw his head on a swivel, searching for the source of the sound.

He skipped around the vicinity, spooked in the most terrific way, and quickly out his lamp.

Daniel leaped away, pressing up against a conveniently placed dresser. His heart beat in his chest as he caught his breath—feeling his tentative grip on his sanity slipping.

No sound came for many minutes as he sat there, afraid.

He cleared his throat as he rose to his feet again, brushing his hand against his clothes, straightening them.

It was just his imagination. That was all.

Your mind's going, Daniel thought. You're hearing things!

Daniel gathered his courage, lingering outside the portal for a few moments, hopping up and down to get his blood flowing.

With awkward, forged confidence, Daniel strode inside, but stopped abruptly as he noticed a red liquid dripping from a hole in the ceiling.

"Goodness," Daniel breathed, observing the small puddle forming where the blood was gathering. He sidestepped around it cautiously, and pulled forth his lamp, lighting it once more to get a better view of his dank surroundings.

In the gloom, he could make out a piano and a stool, and a few tables and chairs strewn about. Farther inside, an overturned closet laid down near to a suit of armor—which actually startled Daniel at first glance.

Something was definitely amiss about the room.

The grating tumult of an enormous crash and the grating sound of stone smashed just behind him, and he skittered forward in a rush to avoid being caught in the impact.

Once a safe distance away, Daniel glimpsed the last of the pebbles settling down to the floor.

He was trapped.


Daniel wandered for quite a few minutes around the medium-sized room—for a castle, that is. The man threw maps, books, and other texts in an effort to find something to light the candles with.

Within a closet in the adjoined room, he found a cylinder of tinder a drawer of a dresser. He lit the candle and stayed crouched near it.

He allowed himself to relax and try to salvage some of his sanity. On the farthest wall, near to the overturned closet that he had earlier spied, he saw a slit in the wall.

Daniel approached it and inspected it. It was a broken part of the wall. Excited, he tried to pry the wood in the wall open somewhat, but alas, it would not open using his hands.

An idea struck him, then.

Daniel ran back into the initial area of the room and heaved a chair, then returned to the broken wall. Then smashed the chair with all his might against the broken section of wall, and it broke.

Triumphant, Daniel climbed through the smallish hole, and emerged in the Local History Room.

A memory returned to him then.

Alexander had demonstrated a mechanism that opened up a secret door…or something like that. He began madly pulling books from the bookshelves. One white book held fast, and behind the bookcase, a pulley of a chain could be heard.

No door opened.

Daniel began raking at the books again, and found a similar white book. He yanked on that one, and with a profound sigh, he saw that a bookcase on the wall a ways away slid open, revealing a small room with a desk inside.

Daniel, victorious, performed a little dance of accomplishment. He went inside and saw a little key upon the top of the desk.

That must be the key to the wine cellar! Daniel thought, pumping a fist.

He snatched up the key, and from behind him, he heard a sound from a some place farther away.

Startled, Daniel jumped up, and flopped onto the floor, tangled up in his own limbs, so panicked was he. He leaped up to his feet again and raced away, slamming his back against the wall adjacent to the door he had entered.

Nothing again.

Daniel let out a self deprecating chuckle and headed out, and saw that the door—which had been locked previously—was ajar.


Daniel entered the hallway, swaggering absurdly, as he was immensely relieved to have found the key to the wine cellar.

He turned to face the hall where he had been at the beginning of the story, and in the doorway which led to the large hall with the windows, was a lone figure, standing awkwardly.

Daniel squinted as he stared in its direction.

It let out a guttural, wet growl.

"Ohhh fuck," Daniel managed to whisper as the thing began to stagger toward him with a loud grunt.

The monster's face wasn't even complete—it was ugly to behold, with two bulging eyes and dark, spiky hair poking out in small tufts about its mostly bald pate. It seemed not to have a nose, and its mouth hung wide open.

And when I say wide, I mean seriously wide—like, impossibly. The mouth was a great big, floppy, giant lip with a ugly row of teeth on the upper jaw, and randomly placed, horrid teeth stuck to the inside of the lip in various places on the bottom.

Its hands had serrated extensions about them, and they seemed to be wrapped in leather, which created a Wolverine-ish affect of having claws.

Daniel heard a most horrid screeching in his head as the humanoid creature ferociously rushed at him in a crazed wobble.

"Fucking Hell!" Daniel shrieked, sprinting in the opposite direction. "What in God's name is that thing!"

He did not tire; he only ran with all speed down the dark hallway, not even bothering to light his lamp again. Screaming with horrified abandon, he sprinted down the dark hall, hearing the frantic breathing of the creature as it pursued him.

Daniel, breathing heavily, not daring to look back, eventually found the door to the Entrance Hall, like a glorious pillar of hope for his self preservation.

He ran into the door, swung it open and slipped in.

As Daniel slammed the door behind him, he felt the impact as the creature threw its body at the portal with all its weight.

"What the fuuuuuuuuck…?" whispered a thoroughly shaken Daniel as he slinked away into the quiet hall, ready to unlock the door to the Wine Cellar.

The End