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THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER
Stanley almost cried out with relief when he felt the familiar leather of his chair up against his back. He was free. Free from that terrible desert, from that stupid button. It almost came as a shock to him that he was relieved to be back in the office but being away from the Narrator for so long had made him realise how much he relied on it. It felt like days had passed since he’d last heard its voice calling out from that darkened crack in the wall. Its voice had been warped and distant, but Stanley knew that voice anywhere. It had been begging, begging to know where Stanley was. He’d tried whistling. Sat there for almost an entire hour just trying to get its attention. Just like when it had sat there looping the same dialogue over and over. The end is never the end is never the end- It had been torture listening to his one companion monotonously drone on. Unaware of the fact Stanley was back with him. Part of him realised after the skips grew longer that the Narrator was no longer in control. But with each press of that horrible thing, it dreaded him just how the Narrator would react when he returned. They both knew the only way out was the button, but the Narrator had been breaking with each pass of time.
Cautiously Stanley stepped out of the office, expecting the Narrator to call out to him. Whether that was its usual dialogue or an acknowledgement of his presence he didn’t care. He just wanted to hear its voice. But there was nothing. His door did not close behind him, and no bright voice called out from all around him. Stanley was alone. He tried clapping and then whistling. Desperately trying to get the Narrator’s attention. But the silence stretched out around him. Was he dreaming? His mind was so desperate to return to normalcy that he simply gave into delusion. No, that couldn’t be it. He had seen the reset. The game had returned to normal. Maybe just maybe the Narrator had wandered off. He didn’t know how long it had been since Stanley moved away from the skip button. But if the Narrator had lost him surely it would have waited for him back at the office. The parable was large, that was sure. But Stanley knew it like the back of his hand at this point. And he knew that of all the endings and rooms. There was one the Narrator loved most of all.
He took the route almost on autopilot. The only thing throwing him off was the fact he had to open and close the doors himself. At the two doors, he took a right, and as he passed through the employee lounge he wished the Narrator would begin one of its tangents about the “Beauty” of the room. But nothing. Walking down the corridor he made his way over to the cargo lift before pausing. Would it even work without the Narrator here? He shuffled onto the metal, jolting forward as it began to move. He had to be careful now. If he missed this jump, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Would he just die? The Narrator seemed to control most of the resets, but the parable seemed to return to normal whenever he died. Taking a deep breath, he stepped off the cargo lift. A small groan slipping from his lips as he landed on the cool metal below. Maybe once this was over, he would ask the Narrator for a safer way down to the two doors. As he walked towards the two doors, he felt the room around him begin to grow colder. This was unusual in of itself, but when he stood in front of the doors, he found himself staring in mild confusion at the blue door. It had been boarded up. And messily at that. Across the wall, various words had been written. Obnoxious. Unfunny. All criticisms that had been read by the Narrator in the memory zone.
While it was proof that the Narrator had returned it left a jolt of pain in his heart. The Narrator had been so affected that it had cut off the only other ending in the game that had given even a hint of criticism to his creation. Steping through the red door, he quickly made his way over to the Zending. The room was growing colder the closer he got to the light room. So much so that he could see his own breath. And as he pulled open the door, he heard a voice echoing around the chamber. But not one he was expecting. The voice was robotic in nature, cold and uncaring. Stalking closer he let out a small gasp as he realised what it was saying.
“Stanley. Stanley. Stanley.”
He sped up, now sprinting up the stairs. And there in the soft glow of the floating lights sat a figure. The figure was hunched over so Stanley could only see their back. But a thin, yellow, arrow-shaped tail lay limply on the floor. A strange mist floated away from their face, small yellow dots drifting through the black smog letting off a gentle light. Stepping closer he moved until he stood in front of them. No. It. He wasn’t sure how he knew it but deep down Stanley knew there was only one person this could be. The narrator’s hair was grey, a salt and pepper gradient that suited it. Yellow eyes sat behind square yellow glasses that had a simple black chain attached to them. Its outfit was a plain thing, a grey sweater atop a warm yellow shirt. But the most shocking feature of all was the numerous tally marks that coated its face and arms. The pale skin of its arms was practically swallowed by the overlapping marks. While only a few were scattered across its face. The sound emanated from a small yellow button perched in the Narrator’s lap. But the Narrator wasn’t looking at the button, it was staring forward. Watching as the lights danced and shifted. It didn’t look calm, it didn’t even look sad. It was like the Narrator wasn’t even in the room, despite the fact Stanley would occasionally watch it blink.
[Narrator?]
Nothing. The Narrator didn’t even turn to look at him. He moved once more sitting down in front of the Narrator blocking its view of the lights. It paused for a second, the room falling silent before it continued its repetitious pressing of the button.
[Narrator? It’s me. I’m back.]
The Narrator continued to stare through him. He tried signing, he tried whistling. He even dared to brush his hand up against the Narrator’s hand. And while the third option gave him a small gasp, the Narrator merely shook its head before continuing on with its button pressing. The cold, robotic voice was beginning to grow irritating, and Stanley could feel the frustration and panic begin to build up under his skin. Was the Narrator broken? How on earth was he meant to carry on when the one person he truly cared about wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence? Bitterly he began to wonder if this was what it was like for the Narrator. Seeing Stanley’s body yet not being able to communicate with him. It was hell. Like he was trapped inside his own head with only his thoughts as company… Wait a second. Stanley knew the Narrator could hear his thoughts. They’d set up a system where the Narrator would only listen in when necessary. Maybe just maybe, if he could get the Narrator to listen, he could prove that he was there. That he was real. He shuffled closer, glaring into the Narrator’s eyes before concentrating on just one word.
‘Narrator!’
The Narrator flinched backwards. Its tail flicked upwards in shock like a spooked cat as the strange black smoke filled with bright yellow exclamation marks. Its eyes widened as it hurried to push itself away from Stanley before pausing just at the edge of the metal floor. Stanley didn’t move. He held out his hands in a calming motion and waited for the Narrator to speak. To say anything. For a minute they just stared at one another. The Narrator’s eyes ran up and down Stanley’s body as if desperately cataloguing every detail. There was a pause in the Narrator’s breathing, then a hitch. And suddenly tears began to well up in the yellow eyes of the being before it stood on shaky legs. Button clattering onto the floor as it wobbled its way over to Stanley.
“Oh Stanley! You’re real! You’re really here.”
The relief in the Narrator’s voice sent a jolt of pain through his heart. And Stanley was quick to stand, walking slowly towards the Narrator. He wasn’t sure what the being had planned but as he finally stood in front of the being he was shocked as cold arms wrapped tightly around his body. The being’s shoulders shook with small and sharp sobs. And Stanley could feel the way his shirt began to grow wet. He attempted to reciprocate the hug, but the sudden sound of the Narrator’s voice stopped him in his tracks. Its voice was muffled against his neck as it spoke, and it was odd to not have the smooth voice surrounding him like normal.
“I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll never complain about the endings you choose. I’ll make you new endings. Just promise me you’ll never leave me alone again. Oh I’ve been alone for so long Stanley, I can’t even trust myself to tell what’s real anymore. What if this is just another strange dream? Maybe I’ve finally gone insane I-“
Stanley pulled away from the embrace quick to sign. [I’m real, Narrator. I promise.]
“Well, it’s all well and good for you to say that, Stanley. But if you're in my head then that’s exactly what I’d want you to say.” It muttered coldly. Although Stanley was almost certain that this malice wasn’t directed at him.
Another tear slipped from its eye curving its way gently around one of the many sets of tally marks on the Narrator’s body. Although surprisingly enough the ink did not smudge under the onslaught of tears it faced. Glancing at the being’s neck he could see the way they slipped under the collar, and he wondered just how far they went. How long until the Narrator gave up on keeping track? Stanley didn’t even want to think about the fact that these tally marks might represent months or even years. Hell, the skips had gotten so long that maybe they were meant to be decades.
[Did you draw these on yourself?]
Clearly that was the wrong thing to ask as the Narrator backed away from Stanley. It began to furiously scrub at its skin. Leaving behind red marks as its nails scratched at its skin. Its tail curled in tightly beneath it as it hunched over. “I don’t know why they won’t vanish. This has never happened before!”
Stanley quickly grabbed at its hand, stopping it before it could damage itself. The Narrator froze under the touch and Stanley couldn’t help but shiver at just how cold the Narrator’s skin was. Was it the reason that the parable was so cold? The being was now completely silent and when Stanley glanced up, he found the Narrator was staring down at the small point of contact they shared. Cautiously he lifted his hand, cupping the Narrator’s cheek before he wiped away the trails of tears with his thumb. The Narrator leaned into his touch with a shaky sigh. Its eyes fallingl shut as it pressed itself into the warmth of Stanley’s skin. Bringing up his other hand he experimentally touched at the black smoke emanating from the other side of the Narrator’s face. When the being gave no reaction, he kept moving until he found the other side of the Narrator’s face. So that he could gently hold onto the being as he slowly rubbed his thumbs across the soft plains of its skin. The skin was still cold, but it was slowly beginning to warm to a somewhat regular temperature.
“This is nice.” It mumbled out before its eyes fluttered open. The bright yellow of its eyes glowed warmly as it stared at Stanley. “Why have we never done this before Stanley?
‘You never told me you had a body.’ He smiled at the sudden yellow flush on the Narrator’s cheeks.
“Well- I- You were never supposed to know about this.”
‘Why not?’
“Because you were never supposed to meet me, Stanley. I’m just the voice that guides you along the story. There would be no good reason for me to be there in the Parable with you.”
‘Even if we got to do this?’
Stanley slid his arms down from the Narrator’s face. Wrapping it in a firm hug. If the Narrator was calm before, now it was putty. The being resting most of its body weight up against Stanley as it practically purred at the contact. Not that Stanley was doing much better. This was the first bit of contact he’d had in a while and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. Slowly he tugged them down to the ground so they could both sit. Although the Narrator ended up mostly in Stanley’s lap as it clung onto Stanley’s shoulder refusing to budge. Its tail was now swaying contently behind it. And Stanley fought back the urge to grab onto it. Maybe later when the Narrator was not settling down from a rather large mental breakdown. Tremors were beginning to build in his companion and Stanley was almost certain the contact was becoming overwhelming. Glancing around the room his sight settled on the yellow button that lay just a few inches away from them. He pulled his hands free (ignoring the rather pitiful whine the Narrator let out that definitely didn’t make him feel guilty whatsoever) before tapping the Narrator lightly on the shoulder
[What’s with the button?] Stanley leaned away from the Narrator to give himself some room.
“Just ignore it, I had so much free time I wanted to come up with some new content for the parable. But it’s all a load of rubbish. None of it’s usable.” The Narrator frowned to itself, tension rising in its shoulders as it gave the yellow button a rather rude prod.
[There’s more? Can I see?]
“Oh you don’t want to waste your time with that Stanley trust me. There’s nothing there that will entertain you.”
[Please.] He said, smiling hopefully at the Narrator.
The Narrator considered him for a moment. Yellow eyes narrowing as he studied Stanley’s expression. Stanley merely smiled in response. He wasn’t lying, he really did want to see what the Narrator had created. And if it had the added bonus of distracting them from the last ending for a while then that was just an added bonus.
“Alright.” It sighed “Just give me a moment to load everything in.”
The Narrator closed its eyes for a moment. Brows furrowing in concentration before the world around them suddenly fell dim.
THE END IS NEVER THE END IS NEVER
The first thing that Stanley noted when he opened his eyes was that the Narrator was gone. The cold weight that had once been in his lap had now vanished and Stanley felt the absence of his presence hard. He forgot how suffocating it was to be stuck alone in this maze. Bursting out of his office, he barely made it out of the room before the familiar sunny voice called out from the ceiling.
“Ah, good Stanley. Now I need you to follow the script for just a little bit. The parable is in a little bit of disrepair after everything and I want to ensure nothing goes wrong before we get to the new content.”
Stanley gave a small thumbs up to the ceiling. He wasn’t really sure where the Narrator was or how he could see him. But it never corrected him when he directed his attention to the ceiling. Making his way through the office he quickly found himself outside the door that had once led to the memory zone. Now with a brand new sign that read new new content. The Narrator hadn’t said anything, but Stanley knew this was where he was meant to go. But some part of him felt stuck. Stanley felt a wave of dread wash over him. And he paused just in front of the door. What if he ended up back there? He couldn’t risk doing that to the Narrator again. Couldn’t risk the possibility of the Narrator not bouncing back as quickly as he did this time.
“Stanley? Is everything alright? We can do something else if you want, you don’t have to look.” The narrator’s voice was caring, but behind it all Stanley could hear the worry. The worry that something was wrong with its game, that Stanley was doing this for its benefit.
[I’m fine] He quickly reassured, taking a moment to think he suddenly had a wonderful idea that would benefit both of them. [Join me?]
“What do you mean Stanley? I’m already with you.”
[Physically I mean, that way you can show me around properly.]
“…Well I suppose if that’s what you really want, I could load in for you. But I’ll have to meet you over at the new content. Don’t worry I’ll still Narrate for you on the way over.”
He nodded. Taking a deep calming breath before stepping through the open door. He made his way towards the lift but before he could get too close a vent on the side of the wall suddenly opened. The metal grating clattered loudly to the floor.
“This way Stanley.” The narrator chirped, although its voice sounded further away than usual.
Crawling through the vent was easy. The metal clearly made to fit a person, and Stanley wondered if the narrator had planned to show this area to him at some point. He eventually dropped down into an empty corridor that led to a lift which he was quick to get on. He waited for the Narrator to speak but found himself greeted with silence. Stanley fought back a wave of panic. Reassuring himself that the Narrator must be waiting for him on the other end. But as the lift opened to a bright red and white office, he found himself alone. Had the Narrator left? Had something happened to it? Stanley stepped out of the lift glancing around the sparse decorations. A lot of time and effort had gone into the design of these rooms. How long did the narrator have to work on this? Too long he supposed.
“Wonderful you’re here.” Stanley jumped at the Narrator’s sudden appearance before glancing around the room. Nobody was there. “Don’t worry Stanley, you just have to make your way through these rooms and then you’ll find me. It seems I accidentally loaded my avatar in the wrong room.”
Raising an eyebrow at the voice, he waited a few moments but received no further explanation. Stanley tried his best to appreciate the Narrator’s creation as he made his way through the various rooms of the conference centre it had designed. Occasionally stopping to read the various notes that were scattered across the whiteboards. The Narrator was happily chatting to him as he did so. Explaining how it had wanted to improve the new content offered to the parable. Its voice was bright and animated. And Stanley almost couldn’t believe that the Narrator had been a sobbing mess only a few minutes ago. Emphasis on the almost. Occasionally the Narrator would pause, the room falling silent as a chill filled the air. Until Stanley reached out to the voice, asking it a random question about an object in the room. Neither of them mentioned it, both far too keen for a distraction. But each time it happened Stanley felt his heart ache just a little bit more.
Eventually, Stanley found himself walking up a set of stairs, the Narrator now completely silent. He was ready to get the Narrator’s attention when the room suddenly opened up around him. A bright sign that read ‘THE STANLEY PARABLE 2’ was directly in his line of view. And below it stood the Narrator. Yellow tail twitching nervously at its side as it smiled at Stanley. Stanley rushed up to its side, taking this opportunity to appreciate the Narrator in the cool light of the room. Even in the light of the room the Narrator’s eyes still glowed gently behind its glasses. And the smoke had shrunk, now only expanding a few centimetres away from the side of its face. Occasionally a yellow question mark would appear in the smog before gently fading away and Stanley soon realised that he’d been staring at the Narrator in silence ever since he approached.
“Well, we’re here now Stanley. But as I’ve already said before there is nothing here that will interest you so don’t blame me if you get bored.”
As the Narrator spoke it began to nervously rub at the black tally marks on its arms. Rubbing at the already irritated skin. It must have been doing this the whole time it had been waiting for Stanley to get here. On impulse Stanley reached forward, grabbing the hand that was rubbing at the skin. He pulled it towards himself before entwining his fingers against the Narrators. The Narrator let out a small squeak of surprise at the action but made no move to let go. He smiled reassuringly at the entity. Squeezing their entwined hands before using his spare hand to speak.
[What’s first?”]
This shook the Narrator out of its shocked stillness. Its golden eyes coming to life as it began to drag Stanley forward.
“Now since you were so curious about the button why don’t we head to this area first? The button that says the player's name. Now, I do really think that-“
The Narrator continued to monologue on about its creation as it guided Stanley along. Stanley smiled fondly at the being as it’s face shone with excitement. Tail flicking happily. He could get used to seeing his Narrator like this.