This room claimed by the Auditor.

There is the opressive, unending yet steady beat of a heart in this room.

You cannot escape it. 

It sets the beat of your own heart to it, steady and just a little bit anxious.

It colors your thoughts. Alters your perceptions.

At first you think the hearbeat is coming from nowhere, but as you begin to look around you realize that far off in the distance, in all directions is faint and misty hearts. Beating ones. Living ones. Pulsating with the hated rhythm of the room.

As your eyes are drawn ever further you realize something...

Is this room.  A circle?

You don't like this. 

Where are the walls?

How are you supposed to leave without walls?

Without doors?

You try to focus your thoughts against the steadily building anxiety and look over all the papers on the floor.  There's summaries of all the rooms you've found and all the rooms you haven't found and all the rooms that could be and all the rooms that couldn't be. 

They're in neat little stacks, with masking tape labels in front of them declaring what their pile represents. 

It makes you feel sick.  You aren't exactly sure why.

You aren't supposed to let Auditors in here. Is it even SAFE to be here, if an Auditor could be here at any time? Should you TELL someone?  Who would you tell?

In the first stack, the top page describes the very room you are in.  It is signed: The Auditor.

You get the feeling a name was supposed to be here, but that doesn't make any sense.  Names aren't real.