To whomever stumbles upon this journal, It's odd, penning an introduction when I'm uncertain anyone will ever read this. It feels like sending a message in a bottle into an endless ocean of yellow, hopeful that someone, somewhere, will find it and know they're not alone in this maddening labyrinth. I am the Caretaker. That title was not one I chose, but one that was thrust upon me. As days blurred into nights, and nights into days, I took it upon myself to maintain a semblance of order amidst the chaos of the Backrooms. I've swept floors, dusted off antiquated furniture, and tended to the remnants of lost souls who've unfortunately met their untimely end here. But my job isn't solely about cleaning. No, it's more about witnessing – observing the ever-shifting rooms, the haunting whispers, and the terrifying entities that lurk just beyond the corner of one's vision. The very walls here pulsate with memories, with stories begging to be told. And I've become the reluctant chronicler of these tales. Contained within these pages are my observations, my encounters, my fears, and, on rare occasions, my hopes. They're a testament to my time spent navigating this boundless maze, a guide for the next wanderer who might need it. Do remember, not everything here is as it seems. The Backrooms are deceptive, ever-changing, and at times, brutally indifferent. But with every twist and turn, every narrow escape, every eerie silence, there's a lesson to be learned. An understanding of this place's enigmatic rules. If you're reading this, perhaps you too are trapped within these walls. Or perhaps, by some twisted stroke of fate, this journal has found its way outside, a tangible piece of an intangible realm. Whatever the case may be, let this be a beacon for you. A glimmer of knowledge in the darkness. Hold on to hope, stay vigilant, and may you find your way, as I continue to search for mine. With an ever-watchful eye, The Caretaker (1 of Many)