something cliché

smooth walls enclosed the space. clean, cool, safe. i had just come upon this room with its golden wooden floor. it wasnt special. just a room. but it was safe and clean and good. i walked around, absently caressing the wall. the paint wasnt new, but the integrity of it was palpable. the soft dryness of the wall registered as good as well. i turned to look at the entire room again...so pleasing and calm it was to my eyes when i noticed something on the farthest wall. a spot. black, wet-looking, tar-like. i wondered at this that i hadnt seen seconds before, so i wandered over to the spot. it seemed to be growing. oozing out of the wall, spreading...like a drop of black blood on clean white cotton. tendrils laced out and away from it, infecting more and more of the clean walls. backing away in my horror at the spread of the disease, i heard a noise behind me. the clean plaster of the walls was crumbling. sliding down to reveal a wall of, not lathing, but more blackness. it was not the one spot that was infected. the whole room was oozing with the evil blackness. sick and rotting the stench suffocated me. the once golden wood floor beneath my bare feet became suddenly rotting and sharp with splinters. i wanted to run but i knew i couldnt. i smiled through the tears that were streaming down my face. smiled at my naivete. smiled at the earlier estimation of goodness and integrity. and the evil began to fill the room.