[ WP ] You wake up to find yourself in a room with 5 doors . They are labeled 'peace ' , 'honor ' , 'truth ' , 'power ' and 'fortune ' . Which door do you choose to open and what happens ?

You'd think after playing so many escape games that opened with the line `` You wake up in a strange room,'' I'd know what to do when it actually happened. Turns out free flash games are n't a great guide to life. 
 
 I push myself up into a sitting position. My back's stiff from lying on the floor. How long had I been out? Are n't you supposed to get brain damage if you're unconscious for more than twenty seconds? Then again, brain damage might explain a lot. 
 
 The room does n't have walls. Instead, it had doors. Five of them, big fancy wooden things like you'd find at the entrance to an old school cathedral. Except they've got words carved into them, gouged deep into the wood. `` Peace, Honor, Truth, Power, Fortune.'' Hinges run from floor to ceiling in every corner of the room. 
 
 I climbed to my feet and took a deep breathe. This was starting to look discouragingly like one of those journey-to-the-center-of-the-mind deals a character would hallucinate while they were in a coma. Probably not a good sign. 
 Right then. Time to get this brain damaged Odyssey started. Just got ta pick a door. 
 
 `` Peace'' sounded a little too much like it might be a `` peace of the grave'' sort of thing. `` Power'' was always a handy thing to have, and you could n't really go wrong with `` Fortune,'' but at the moment, all I really wanted was to know what the flying fuck monkeys was going on here, so I headed for the door labelled `` Truth.'' 
 
 My fingers wrapped around the cast-iron handle, and then things went downhill fast. You know that `` oh crap'' feeling you get in the moment before shit hits the fan, when you realize you've majorly fucked up but it's too late to do anything about it? Yeah. I got that feeling when the shudder ran through my arm. It felt like I'd grabbed hold of an electric fence, and suddenly the muscles all along my arm were spasming, contracting, trying to yank my hand back. But my fingers kept a death-grip on the handle, muscles locked and beyond my control. As my arm jerked back, the door opened. 
 
 There was a wall in front of me. Plain and white, looking freshly painted. The bones, on the other hand, were worn and yellowed. 
 
 They were small, maybe finger bones. They'd been stitched to the wall. Fucking *stitched*, the black thread wound around them ( God, I hoped it was just thread ) punched through the plaster to hold them in place. 
 
 But what really scared me was what the bones had been used to spell out. 
 
 *The truth is, you should have opened a different door. * 
 
 That's when the lights went out. That's when I heard the creak of hinges from up above, and realized the ceiling was n't a ceiling; it was a trapdoor. 
 
 There was a wet *thump* as something heavy hit the ground behind me. A metallic scrape as it shifted, pushed itself up. Wheezing breathe, heavy and raspy. The sound of too many mouths gasping for air. 
 
 Then it started to giggle.
