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located in Underground City, a part of Among The Last, one of the many universes on RPG.

Underground City

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Zanith stood motionless at the window. His eyes, framed by a pair of glasses at the moment, stared unblinkingly out at the deserted street. His face was flat, expressionless. The perfect little houses with their perfect white picket fences and perfectly manicured lawns sitting quaintly on the perfect, empty street unnerved him. Not a stone was out of place. The sidewalks were perfectly clean. Tire marks had not marred the flawless white of the cement driveways, and the street was free of skid marks, oil spots, gum, and other evidence of human occupation.

The perfection of the street mocked him. It was the ideal neighborhood, yet Zanith hated it. The fakeness of it all was glaringly obvious to him. Turning from the window suddenly, he drew the blinds closed in one quick, violent movement. He couldn't stand it. Moving away from the window, he threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow and fighting his mounting frustration. His clothes rubbed against his skin uncomfortably. The brand new cloth was not yet broken in, and it still carried the smell and feel of manufactured cotton.

The clothing was perfect. His closet was full of articles which he would have picked out himself in a clothing store, but they were not his. Never in his life had Zane laid eyes on the attire. He would have loved the clothes in other circumstances, but he hated them. Hated the way everything in this house seemed to cater to his every want, need, and whim. The rooms were decorated meticulously, appealing to his every taste and preference. The fridge was filled with his favorite foods, the bookshelf home to his favorite books and authors. It was sickening.

Yet the house was not tailored to him only. Half of the closet was filled with girls' clothes; the bookshelves contained books he'd never bothered to peruse; and some of the food in the fridge he found revolting. At first, he'd been confused. Whoever had made the house was obviously trying to make him feel at home. If that was true, then why in world were there girl's clothes in the closet? He'd been perplexed. That is, until he noticed the other inhabitant of the house.

A girl. Her books, her clothes, her favorite foods.

The house had been designed to integrate their separate likes, dislikes, and wants seamlessly into one, perfect house, on a perfect street in the middle of a perfect little housing development.

But why?