Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary! Chapter 655: Desperate Struggle [1]

The instant the box detonated, all of reality seemed to seize up.

As if the very atmosphere had been violently sucked from the area. This instance was markedly different... rather than their attention being directed toward it, the pig was now observing them, its crimson eye burning intensely within the expansive chamber, ensuring their perpetual captivity.

Neither Osvald nor the Team Leader dared to stir, their gazes locked onto the porcine entity before them. The palpable silence was suffocating, and as Osvald maintained his unwavering stare, his expression flickered through a cascade of emotions.

’Why? Why would he perpetrate such an act...!?’

His mind had completely fractured!

Observing the pig and perceiving the potent aura radiating from its form, Osvald was convinced that Seth possessed no conceivable means to rectify the dire situation! The blade had likely seized control of his psyche in its entirety, shattering his physical being from within.

’...If he’s relying on the body-swapping tactic he employed previously, then there’s utterly no hope!’

Transposing consciousness would merely furnish him with an alternative physical vessel, not a coherent intellect. And as Osvald gazed upon the pig – no, the Butcher – he recognized the utter absence of residual awareness within that corrupted mind. The dagger had systematically purged all semblance of reason, eroding even the faintest vestiges of logic.

Given the current circumstances, short of reversing the flow of time itself, regaining his sanity was an impossibility.

To articulate it plainly...

He was irrevocably lost!

"Insane... Utterly, undeniably insane."

A rational adversary does not inspire true fear.

It is the irrational individual who instills dread, for their actions defy all prediction.

This grim truth became starkly apparent to Osvald, who swiftly turned his attention and voice toward Johnattan.

"Under these conditions, I stand no chance of containing this! We are compelled to evacuate this location! No, dammit..."

Osvald’s realization struck him with sudden force as his gaze swept across their surroundings.

They... were ensnared within a Gate. Not merely some derelict industrial facility, but an actual Gate. The sole egress lay in departing its confines.

"No..."

Osvald’s eyes remained fixed on the butcher, his throat constricting with dread. An alternative path existed...

RUMBLE! RUMBLE!

The environment convulsed violently, objects rattling precariously as Osvald struggled to maintain his balance. He barely had a moment to process the unfolding chaos before an overwhelming wave of homicidal intent engulfed him. Without a second thought, he plunged his hand into his pocket and flung forth an object resembling a teddy bear.

Swoosh!

The instant the item left his grasp, the bear violently expanded, swelling to five to eight times its original dimensions just as the butcher lunged, its cleaver descending. The butcher’s onslaught was astonishingly swift; the bear was cleaved in two within a single second of its enlargement.

BANG!

"Huk!"

Osvald’s eyes snapped wide as a terrifying agony reverberated back upon him, akin to being torn asunder himself. Yet, he managed to suppress a full-throated scream, promptly launching another identical bear while pivoting and retreating.

Step!

The butcher did not pursue.

Instead...

It continued its measured, unhurried advance, as though deeming a chase beneath its purpose, the resounding echo of its footsteps permeating the vast chamber.

This was advantageous.

The moment the Butcher resumed its deliberate movement, Osvald was already in motion. He maintained a sideways progression, never fully turning his back, creating spatial separation while keeping the butcher squarely within his field of vision.

Acting on instinct, he retrieved a third bear and hurled it. This time, his target was not directly ahead but to his right. Mirroring its prior behavior, the bear materialized and began to grow.

Osvald’s gaze remained riveted on the butcher. With meticulous calm, he dissected the impending sequence of events as the butcher’s focus shifted from Osvald to the burgeoning bear before it. Its cleaver descended once more.

SWOOOSH!

Its execution was blindingly fast. So rapid, in fact, that Osvald had scarcely any time to brace himself before the bear was bisected. He experienced the identical jolt of pain, his face draining of color as he stifled a groan.

"⎯!"

He drew a sharp, cold breath, striving to anchor his wavering thoughts. However, scarcely had he regained a modicum of composure when he sensed a pair of bloodthirsty eyes fixing upon his position.

His very respiration ceased.

Yet, concurrently... a subtle, almost imperceptible curve graced the corner of his lips.

Had the Butcher retained even a fragment of its former rationality, it would have disregarded the decoy. Nevertheless... it appeared to be irrevocably drawn to it. As if its singular impulse was to obliterate whatever lay directly before it.

Osvald became increasingly certain of this conclusion as his mind raced, formulating a myriad of strategies to navigate the perilous circumstances.

Step! Step⎯

The placid, yet resonant cadence of its footsteps continued to reverberate throughout the oppressive atmosphere.

The pace was unhurried, slow enough for any ordinary being to outdistance, and yet... despite this leniency, it felt utterly inescapable. As if, regardless of the effort expended, these steps could never truly be outrun. And that profound sensation...

It cultivated a mounting pressure within the confined space.

A pressure so constricting it threatened to suffocate anyone unfortunate enough to be present.

Step!

Osvald inhaled deeply once more, finally allowing himself a brief moment to glance over at the Team Leader, who appeared to have gained control of yet another anomaly – a more menacing one this time.

Osvald's mind raced, assessing his limited options. The Gate offered only a single exit, its location unknown. He harbored a grim suspicion that by the time they discovered it, it would undoubtedly be too late.

His nodes throbbed intensely, struggling to contain the grotesque, pig-like creature. His mental state was too compromised to employ the Reflection Buddies effectively, as doing so would fracture his focus. The flags were in disarray, rendering him incapable of restraining the beast. What recourse remained? His sole consideration was the Butcher's mindless rampage – devoid of rational thought, its existence solely defined by the insatiable hunger of its knife.

This, at least, was something.

'Irrational entities,' he reminded himself, 'can still be guided.'

However, extreme caution was paramount. The Butcher advanced lethally slow, its deliberate pace dictated by the presence of its prey. The instant any of them attempted to flee, it would pursue with relentless speed. Even if he managed to deploy another Reflection Buddy, the Butcher would obliterate it instantaneously, denying them any chance of escape.

His thoughts churned ceaselessly, punctuated by the echo of another soft footstep reverberating through the chamber. The oppressive aura emanating from the Butcher intensified, filling him with a suffocating dread.

'It's growing even more powerful.'

A heavy weight settled in Osvald's chest as he silently raged. He realized that Seth's prior actions were merely a charade. Prior to the commencement of this entire 'scenario,' Seth had likely annihilated the majority of the anomalies conjured by Johnattan, the Team Leader.

This revelation incited a fresh wave of curses, as he understood the knife continued to absorb blood, fueling the Butcher's escalating strength.

Yet, this turn of events... wasn't entirely unfavorable.

Fixated on the Butcher, Osvald's shallow breaths hitched. He noticed something significant.

A faint, almost imperceptible cracking sound originating from deep within its form.

'Yes, of course.'

An epiphany struck Osvald with sudden clarity.

His eyes widened, and he shifted his gaze toward the Team Leader.

"You..."

He spoke quietly, careful not to make any abrupt movements.

"Its body is deteriorating. However..." Osvald's gaze flickered towards the encroaching Butcher, his lips thinning. "By the time we witness its complete collapse, it will be far too late."

Instead, his eyes darted upwards. Though subtle, he perceived them – minute, hairline fractures extending beyond the confines of the room and into the very fabric of space itself.

The Gate...

It was faltering under the overwhelming power emanating from the creature's body.

In that case—

"We endure until then."

He drew a sharp, cold breath. His already strained nodes pulsed with increased vigor as he confronted the Butcher.

"...We wait for the Gate to shatter."