Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary! Chapter 613: Hospital [1]

~4 minute read · 1,093 words
Previously on Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary!...
A sudden sound during the internal meeting draws sympathetic glances toward Seth, who covers his face as colleagues mourn the presumed-dead Kyle. Zoey watches Seth closely, her suspicions deepening after glimpsing his brief laugh while she clutches a device from Liora. The meeting concludes, and the Section Chief privately urges Seth to excel in the upcoming recruit selection for promotion, presents an exclusive game deal from Dock—which Seth rejects—and checks on his well-being after the Congress, met with Seth's assurance that he's feeling great.

Regret hit me sooner than expected.

"Perhaps I should have taken that offer."

—[—[Furniture]—]—

● Oak Bookshelf: 40 SP

● Mahogany Chair: 25 SP

● Walnut Cabinet: 60 SP

● Pine Stool: 15 SP

● Cherry Dresser: 55 SP

● Ebony Side Table: 35 SP

—[—[Furniture]—]—

Gazing at the display right before my eyes, it struck me that I might not hold the luxury of brushing off Dock as casually as I'd assumed.

The furnishings weren't even the pricey issue.

In truth, they barely registered as a concern.

----

[Anomalies]

◉ Twisted Man: 40,000SP

◉ Blood Butcher: 25,000SP

◉ [Slot Open]

◉ [Slot Open]

----

Rubbing the back of my neck, I let out a heavy sigh.

The real expense lay in the anomalies, not the furniture. Just one Twisted Man demanded a hefty sum, and worse still, that was merely the starting price.

With a tap on the anomaly entry, a fresh panel unfolded.

——●

[Rank:

<E> 40,000 SP

<D> 80,000 SP

<C> 160,000 SP

<B> 320,000 SP

——●

A curse escaped my lips at the sight of those escalated costs.

"This is gonna drain me dry."

Fortunately, I could still cover it. Limits existed, however, maxing out at B rank—no higher possible. Not that higher appealed to me anyway. Nor did I fancy a Twisted Man lurking in my Gate.

"...I'm not thrilled about the Blood Butcher either. Better to occupy those other two slots. Your thoughts?"

I swiveled to peer into the endless white emptiness.

A silhouette lingered there, silently observing me. Its eyes held a foggy haze, as though every spark of light had vanished long ago. Yet, a subtle, undeniable glint persisted in that stare, fixed directly on me.

I sighed.

"Come on, Kyle."

Approaching him, I continued.

"I get that you're upset, but I've laid it all out. My situation was complicated. Things spiraled beyond my grasp back then. Yes, I took lives, but it wasn't truly me—get what I mean?"

A gesture of my hand summoned a pair of wooden chairs.

Settling into mine, I eyed Kyle.

"Even with a choice, I'd likely repeat it. Survival demanded it, and without my actions, far more would have perished. Essentially, I protected lives."

This held true.

I'd thwarted Dantalion's possession. Failure would have plunged the world into chaos. Those losses proved essential.

"I—"

"—totally snapped."

Kyle's words cut across mine.

I halted, lifting my gaze to lock with his as he regarded me. His look stirred unease in me, a deep breath needed. It felt like... he saw a total stranger.

I wasn't.

"You don't even realize it."

"Realize what?"

"You're snapping entirely. No... you've already snapped."

Laughter burst from me.

"This rubbish again. I'm perfectly fine. Sane as ever, feeling sharper than before. Remember how everything terrified me once?"

"...I remember."

"Not anymore. Now, I crave crushing those old fears. My mind's never been clearer. This is my true self—fears just held me back."

"Mhm."

Kyle responded with eerie calm.

That very composure grated on me.

Reclining in the chair, arms folded, I pressed on.

"Fine, suppose I've snapped. After all I've endured, it's expected. And with my condition, it makes sense even more."

"...Sure."

Kyle dipped his head and took a seat.

"I suppose."

"....."

My jaw tightened.

His composure...

"I've snapped, fine. If so, shouldn't you guide me back? Few matter to me. You're among them. If you see me slipping, help me—"

"I'm good."

"...."

"I don't care anymore. Do as you please. It means nothing to me. In my eyes, you're already gone. Just a hollow remnant of the brother I knew."

"...."

"End me if my words cross the line. I'd prefer that. Better than this void. I'd rather... join the real Seth."

Unnoticed by me, my chest heaved with ragged breaths. I tried—truly tried—to bridge the gap, to reason. But now, the truth hit hard.

I'd lost him.

Kyle.

Utterly lost him.

No words or deeds would sway him.

The sole family in this alien realm had forsaken me.

"Hahaha."

Sadness evaded me; laughter took hold instead.

Truly...

I'd once pondered confiding fully in Kyle, believing he'd grasp it. Naivety. He'd never embrace this me. To him, a mere impostor Seth.

Always alone from the beginning.

This crystallized as I laughed once more, head thrown back, eyes on the surrounding white void.

Hand waved, points vanished from my total as the floor surged upward, shaping a structure from nothingness.

Initially pristine. Sterile. Walls formed symmetrically, glossy tiles mirroring sourceless, harsh light. Even the air held that biting disinfectant tang, like endless cycles of use and scrubbing.

I scowled.

"Not the vibe I aimed for."

Glancing upward, I tweaked the lights.

Shadows warped along the hall instantly, twisting unnaturally against the walls. One clung stubbornly in a corner before jerking back.

Improved.

Doors appeared next, uniform at first. Then quirks emerged: one handle drooped lower; another's lock bore frenzied gouges; a third lacked any handle.

In mere minutes, a hospital corridor replica stood complete.

After deliberation, this became my Gate prototype. Since Gates linked to reality somehow, grounding mine externally proved vital.

For now, pure experimentation.

Uncertain on finalizing it, yet eager to test and grasp Gate needs.

...Thus, hours flew by in 'creation' immersion, Kyle forgotten nearby, silently witnessing the birth.

Finished at last, hours later, I stood amid decayed, forsaken passage. Overhead bulbs sputtered dimly, trapping faint light everywhere.

The air's icy bite made me purse my lips.

Yet, one element lacked.

The anomaly...

Foot tapping, brow furrowed, I summoned the anomaly menu. Eyes on [Twisted Man], purchase tempted—then halted.

Moments later, I shook my head.

"No, not yet."

Hit [Exit] and departed.

Back in the office, I slumped into my chair, ceiling-bound stare.

Scenario saved, but gaps abounded. This pace might doom Gate creation.

"I need to—"

Ding!

Sudden chime jolted me.

A prompt materialized.

[New Quest Activated!]

• Difficulty: N/A

• Reward: Special Unlock!

• Objective: Anchor your Gate to a real-world location.

• Location: N/A

• Failure: Special mode will remain locked forever.

Description:

From games to gates! Simple crafting evolves, craving reality's depth. Next phase proves tougher than imagined. Pure fancy births no Gate. It demands roots, reason, earthly bonds. Lacking history or site, Gates crumble.

Hollow shells shatter. Baseless visions dissolve.

Advance by claiming the real.

Myriad sites await, burdened by tales, heft, echoes.

Time Limit: N/A

[Will you accept the quest?]

▶ [Yes] ▷ [No]