Purple Player

You are spit from a large cylindrical metal tube complete with flashing lights and high pressured hissing pipes encasing it like a cocoon of some sort.  The dank dark hallway lies before you as you crawl from your hands and knees to your feet upon the cold smooth surface floor.  The wallpaper looks old and outdated run with stains of perspiration.  The lights have flickered off and everything grew silently for what seemed like an eternity when the environment begins to hum again with activity.  The clanking of metal doors accompanies the crash of some of them swinging open.  Buzzing with the memories of that insidious clown in your mind from what seems years ago, you shake yourself to your feet and wonder what you will do.

You cannot see much ahead in the darkness other than one door appears to have opened just down the hall from you.  There is a soft warm reddish glow of light illuminating from this door way.  Other than that, you do not hear or see too much else.