The stone slab's words keep repeating themselves in your mind. Two words in particular...

your floor."

You think about the winding maze just outside, rows and rows of drawers.

You've seen giant eyeballs teeming with lice, held a conversation with an intestinal parasite and been giggled at by splattered brains, but you're not sure you've felt quite this ill for a long time.

Did you die this many times? Are you going to?

Or are they only possibilities? Parallel lives? ...Is there any way to know?