Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary! Chapter 574: Death [5]
Previously on Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary!...
"You look like shit."
Leon let out a hearty chuckle at Liora's remark.
"You think? Truth is, I've been through a rough ordeal. The pain's still pretty intense right now."
"What happened?"
"Believe it or not, it was an anomaly. A really powerful one too."
"Did you take it down?"
"Nah, I just narrowly got away from it."
He spoke the truth.
Though he wasn't entirely certain if the thing he encountered truly qualified as an anomaly.
"Anyway, why are you aiming your weapon at me?"
"Because I have to confirm you're the real deal."
"Oh?"
Liora lowered her gun and stepped back a bit. It appeared she had relaxed her guard, yet Leon was aware. He understood full well that one misstep would mean she'd fire without hesitation.
Under normal circumstances, Leon felt assured in handling her, but missing an eye left him unwilling to gamble, so he kept up his smile.
He engaged in light chit-chat.
"So, your wariness stems from that odd anomaly hanging around in the fog, doesn't it?"
"...It distorts people's senses."
"Mhm. I've picked up on that."
In truth, Leon had a theory. He'd headed to ’that’ spot mainly to trail the peculiar anomaly and gauge the circumstances better. Ultimately, events unfolded as they did, and after tremendous exertion, he obtained the data transmitter.
"We ought to split up."
Leon gave Liora a smile.
"As you can tell, I'm pretty banged up right now. I require some time to recover fully from this mess. I'd love to join forces with you, but I'm not fit for it."
"I don't care about that."
Liora replied coolly, her gaze sharpening. She scanned the surroundings, inhaled the air, then turned back to Leon.
"Where is he...?"
"Hm? Who are you referring to?"
"Seth."
Liora's eyes narrowed further.
"...I can smell him on you."
***
Spurt—!
"Akh!"
Agony overwhelmed me as I fought to stifle my cry. I glanced around, striving to hold myself steady. Blood dripped onto the floor, pooling over the already crimson area, marked by multiple layers of congealed blood.
How much time had elapsed?
I had no recollection.
The days blurred together as I ventured from the room daily in search of the way out. Each day brought new rooms to explore, hoping for an escape route from this nightmare, yet I faced the identical sight repeatedly.
Creaaak! Creaaaak—
’I mustn’t forget. I mustn’t forget. I mustn’t forget.’
I examined my hand.
Only a single finger remained where five once were.
Daily, I offered up a fresh piece of myself.
Such was the toll I paid to prevent forgetting.
To preserve my sense of self.
"Haa... Haa... Haa."
My breaths came ragged as I tilted my head back, desperately fighting the torment.
H-how much longer must I endure this?
Exhaustion gripped me. Utterly drained.
The suffering was genuine, and with every passing day, I surrendered another part. What fate awaited when nothing remained to give?
"Why...? Why am I fighting so hard?"
The man's voice echoed in my thoughts once more.
It intensified daily, encroaching on my mind as I battled the agony.
Yes...
Why the relentless struggle?
What purpose did all this serve?
Initially, my sole desire was an ordinary existence free from illness's grip. Yet it was evident I had perished. So why persist in resistance, aware of my demise?
Why?
Why...?
I'm unsure.
I'm unsure. I'm unsure.
Clutching my head with both hands, I muttered, "...I'm unsure."
Yet still—
Compelling myself upright, I headed from the room.
Or attempted to.
The drapes swayed behind me as a gentle wind entered the space.
"Heading out again to hunt for the exit?"
My advance halted, though I offered no reply.
I was unable to.
Instead, I grasped the blade and aimed to sever another finger.
But—
"Coward."
My actions froze.
"You're just wielding pain as a shield against your reality. At your core, you grasp why you resist acceptance. It's not reluctance, but fear of abandoning those dependent on you. You're overestimating your worth."
The voice inched nearer, murmuring near my ear while my heart quivered.
"Kyle's already a Paragon. Your absence won't hinder his promising path. The same holds for the rest in the Guild. Now at King-Grade, they'll access abundant resources and prestige."
"....."
"Worried about your squad?"
Once more, words escaped me.
The voice carried an allure that barred response.
It mesmerized.
But...
"I am worried."
My words emerged unbidden.
What?!
That's not what I intended.
"Is that the case?"
Strangely, despite averting my gaze, I nearly sensed the silhouette behind me.
It grinned.
So broadly it bordered on grotesque.
"Worried about them? But why bother?"
"Because they depend on me."
No, that's not my voice!
"No, it is. These are your honest feelings."
Impossible!
"Nothing's impossible. Particularly when you recognize it deep down."
No, no!
"But are you certain they'll falter without you?"
"...They won't."
——!
"You know that, don't you?"
"I know it."
Know what?!
"Ariel can achieve what eludes you. She's far better equipped to guide the team than you. Under her, they'll ascend to heights unattainable with you. So, what's your role?"
I...
I....
"Would anyone mourn your absence?"
".....No."
"So why persist in this fight?"
The voice leaned in, its murmur shaking my form.
"Your efforts are futile. No one would grieve your departure. The Guild Master? You realize he values outcomes alone. He'd view you as a wasted asset."
That's...
"No one would lament your passing. Why grasp at life so desperately when survival holds no meaning? Simply release it."
The voice murmured again, this time with amplified force, jolting me profoundly.
"Release yourself and claim what you merit. Let—"
"That's not it..."
I eyed the last fingers on my hand and slashed, severing them.
The voice ceased abruptly.
"I... never concerned myself with how others fare without me."
Blood gushed across the floor as I regarded my mutilated hand. The anguish barely registered while I stared blankly forward.
"I..."
Shaking my head, I proceeded to the doorway.
’That's not it. That's simply not it...’