This is an irregularly shaped room with nothing in it but a low bed, a small table and one simple wooden chair. There is a plate on the table that looks like something greasy and tomato-y has recently been eaten off of it. A look at the floor will reveal that a knife and fork were also used. These now lie on the floor on either side of the table. There's a photo of what appears to be Ayn Rand pinned up on the wall, looking frequently wanked to.

The forest is pitch dark, the trees indiscernable but huge and menacing. There is a strong scent of rotting leaves in the air which is very moist; there must be a fog. Eerie noises that sound like metal dragged against metal or whistling played at slow speed come to my ears as if carried by a large body of water, and I feel cold.

I've been here before, a lot of times, which is how I know where the path goes; that and feeling the trees with my hands. If it were daytime I would be able to see the path, but not in this blackness.

This is a lake about a mile long and half wide, with a large island in the middle. The water is practically stagnant except for some ripples the wind makes on it. An otter is playing in the water on the other side of the lake, near the water's edge.

This is a bottle that used to hold Mountain Dew. Someone has pissed in it. Yep.

Someone's car key is what this is. One of those silly modern ones with a groove in the middle and a button that locks and unlocks the doors by a radio signal.