Dune Labyrinth

On a bed of short, drying grass, there are three large boulders in a tight cluster, spaced only a couple feet apart. They are all approximately 5 feet tall and round. Each is made of solid, rough stone, the color of deep, warm earth and an undertone of red, like the rich red sand of the Nevada desert. They are almost the same size in mass, but each is unique in shape and details. One is more oblong than squat. It sits like a reddening egg with a pointed peak, fully erect and noble. Another boulder is thicker that the other two, its shape is slightly more condensed and round. Its top is a soft dome, lacking a point. it also sits fully upright, although not as tall as the other. The third is a combination of the other two, it is a little taller than the fatter stone and a little more squat than the egg shaped stone. This stone does not sit fully upright, rather it rests at a slight angle on its side, as though it was reclining against some invisible easy chair.
Their contours are rough and chiseled by the elements. In each, there are pockets and grooves, lines on their hard surfaces. The three boulders are part of the heart of an ancient circular labyrinth which spirals from the center, out, the ends of which cannot be seen. Entrance and exit are a mystery, a myth, known, yet not seen. Surrounding the stones is a small expanse of open space, there are no trees or flowers, just an earth the color of mixed copper and sand and drying grass below the stones.
Twenty feet away from the stones are the innermost walls of the labyrinth. They are at least thirty feet tall and shaped like a continuous line of sand dunes. The dunes are wide and gentle and slope up to their peak at a 45 degree angle. They are made of reddish tan sand and begin on either side of the path and build into tall peaks that are warm beneath the exposed sun. Billows of red sand blow up when the wind passes over the peaks, after drifting with the wind for a while, they scatter and settle back into the great mass of sandy walls. The paths between the dunes is somewhat narrow, three or four feet at the most. The small pass is made of more compact and hard earth, it is solid and a very light tan. There is not a mark of footprints, it is clean despite the mountains of sand that surround it on either side. The sky above is blue, yet there seems to be a golden filter that colors everything in a yellow haze.

Endless School

The hallways extend in all directions, connected by stairways and ramps. Each hallway is lined with doors that lead to classrooms. There is a constant noise that swarms through the place, bouncing off the walls, seeping through little holes, taking sharp turns around corners. The walls are of different colors, some white, some blue, some bright red. The stairways are all metallic silver. No area is the same as another. The colors and turns intersect in unpredictable ways and form new structures in every direction. Most of the doors are closed, each with a number and a bulletin board to the right, most of them empty. There is a sense of a crowd but no sign of it, loose words and laughter flash through the noise here and there but nobody can be seen walking through the halls, up the stairways or into the rooms.
The building complex sits on top of a large grassy hill and continues inside of it. The structure extends under the earth and pokes out from gaps here and there, along the slopes of grass and between little patches of tall ancient trees. A wide concrete stairway cuts the hill in two and leads to a center plaza, a round space covered in concrete with a tall single sculpture at its center. The sculpture is a very abstract representation of a man with arms extended upwards. It towers over the plaza impressively, at least 30 feet tall. At its base there is a large bronze metal plaque that says "above" in a vast number of languages and alphabets. From afar the surface of the sculpture seems to be light gray, up close, it has a slightly green color.
The large central stairway leads to a secondary building complex at the bottom. Its first level is lined with glass doors, all of them closed and dark. Its second level is twice the height of the first one and it is made of a single large window that acts as a huge mirror, reflecting the buildings above it. There are further stairways on either side that continue moving downward. Inside the main building there is large lobby, with couches and tables. There are newspapers still open and scribbled post it notes scattered over the tables. Wooden doors to the south lead to a small movie theater. The main screen is blank but the projector is on, spilling pure light onto the white surface. There is a book open on the podium and a stack of papers on a small table to the right.
To the left of the screen, there is a small doorway. It leads to a dark staircase going downward. It ends in an even darker hallway, where the walls are painted black and the only light comes from small lights that are over 50 feet apart from each other. Beside each light is a door, unmarked and locked. The hallways extends back into the depths of the hill. As it reaches deeper, the air becomes more oppressive and the walls are covered in moisture. The sound of the crowd above is deafening, almost making the ceiling shake, and it is contrasted with tiny drops of water that echo with a bright crystalline clarity.
At the very bottom of the hill, the hallway opens up into a circular room. There are three other long hallways extending away from this room. In the very center, there is small pool. Above the pool, the ceiling is open and it extends upwards as a smooth concrete cylinder. In the center of the pool, there is a small concrete pedestal and on top of it, a golden chalice full of blood. On its side there is a large bronze metal plaque that says "below" in a vast number of languages and alphabets. The noise that extends through the whole underground seems to be loudest in this place, resonating through the cement cylinder that extends up towards the plaza and the tall sculpture above.

Ash World

There are stairs which climb and bend endlessly. Formed of concrete and carbon steel rebar, they produce a hallow twang with every footfall. The sound lonesomely echoes within the cavernous structure. The concrete of the stairs is flecked with miniscule tan and gray pebbles. This adornment is absent in the flat corridors which branch off from them. Tree house style walkways and halls run along empty walls and plain faced doors. These doors bear no numbers nor any other sign to betray what secret places hide behind their blank gaze. A sickening shade of pasty gray, they do little to stand out against the similarly white hued walls. It gives the impression that everything is bathed in ash.
Even the occasional humanoid figure clipping distractedly along a walkway seems to be this color. They tend to be dressed in the attire of medical professionals, in the sexless pajama like garb donned by dental technicians, nurses, and surgeons. Looking down as they exit a steel door elevator or disappearing down a dark hallway, they move without grace or life, marching purposefully and bitterly in predetermined directions. Their authoritatively passive aggressive auras hang over them as tangibly as a bad smell.
The halls veer off of the exposed walkways feeding into enclosed networks given to a multitude of labyrinthine turns. These halls are long and their ends are never clear, the view ahead is consistently bathed in darkness. Shadow reaches out from every crevice and corner. Without windows or noticeable light fixtures, what sterile illumination there is, emanates meekly from an undetermined source. Around some turns, a dead end awaits in the shape of an empty gray culvert. There are no potted plants, no skylights or windows, no paintings, and no directories. It seems as if the charmless hallways and skeletal stairways may go on endlessly in every direction, an inescapable and well contained world.
Here and there an opening may be encountered, a pseudo door made of sheets of opaque colorless plastic hanging from overhead. They shimmy a little, disturbed by a draft from behind. With their unsettling appearance comes expectations of a quarantine center, or a room undergoing structural repair. This uninviting prospect gives them a sinister presence. The air blowing out from behind them is cold and stale. A faint synthetic odor prevails over the entire labyrinthine tableau. It smells something like rubber or paint, but is insidiously subtle. Like fluoride in drinking water, it links arms with what precious breathable oxygen is available, and by being discrete it slips in with every inhalation, undeterred.
Along with that inescapable scent an eerie quiet inhabits the stairways, and corridors. Elevator doors slide open with a hushed whisper. The rare echoing thump, twang of footsteps stabs at the soul. Beneath it all is a barely perceptible hum, tempered perhaps with an even less perceptible ring, like the noise generated by fluorescent lights. It vibrates from every tangible pore of concrete and steel, droning inexplicably and so subtly it can pass itself off as a trick of a tainted mind. Like a corkscrew, the stairs spiral nauseatingly upward. Into the deepening gray, they rise and descend to open upon further floors of claustrophobic halls, tree house walkways, and row upon row of impersonal gray doors. Many of these doors are locked, or may be opened to reveal a clean slab of impenetrable wall. These decoys are numerous. Like the empty chambers in a pistol engaged in a harrowing game of Russian roulette, every closed door is ominous, because the very air and every dark corner of this place says that something sinister must lie in wait, somewhere within the quiet halls, the endless walls and the silent elevators.

Courtyard

There is a marble courtyard that sprawls in endless directions.
Multiple levels are connected by narrow pathways and carved steps, like a simplified Escher painting.
Below, the ground is a kaleidoscope of soft hues, cream and coral slabs cover the earth in subtle geometric patterns. Stairways of only a couple of steps are soft and unimposing, they gently offer a new direction. The smooth marble of intricately carved handrails lead to wide open chambers.

Above, the sky bestows clear blue light and the warmth of a mid-fall sun gently radiates the courtyard. Only the sound of the wind adds sound, for there are no humans or animals.
The courtyard is empty, it feels as if it has been this way for a very long time, longer than humans can imagine. But, the space is not forgotten, it is still tended while it waits patiently for something new to arrive.

Guest House

The house is mammoth and labyrinthine with red wood floors and elegant fixtures. The stairs are wide. There are both large airy halls and luxurious rooms, and cramped quarters and narrow corridors.

Tall and plain with a frank bearing, the owner of the house acts as a gracious host. He and his father built the house from the ground up, and yet he is anything but possessive of it.
Maintained and stewarded by him, the house accommodates many guests. They are drawn here by some thread of destiny, a mysterious call.
Some are more aware of it than others. Here, they wait for something. It is understood that only a few will be together in the end.
One gentle natured guest has hypnotizing blue eyes veined with amber. These veins of color seem to form a sigil of some kind, the shape of which is treelike. He sits upon a red velvet upholstered couch in one of the expansive common rooms. Overhead a golden chandelier emits a hospitable glow.