Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary! Chapter 657: Desperate Struggle [3]

Osvald understood the necessity of going all out; holding back was no longer an option. Despite utilizing several crucial items and nearly depleting his nodes, he hadn't truly exhausted his capabilities. There were still avenues he could pursue...

However, these avenues demanded significant sacrifices. They necessitated risking his own life, a considerable demand for someone like him. Yet, he recognized the lack of leeway for hesitation.

As the Butcher's gaze fixed upon him and its hand began to rise for a strike, Osvald's every hair stood on end. Reaching into his pocket, his nodes whirred with increasing rapidity, far exceeding any previous pace.

"⎯⎯!"

An immediate, excruciating pain erupted, feeling as though his skull was being violently split asunder by a colossal sledgehammer. His left eye twitched almost involuntarily.

The Butcher's movements, though appearing sluggish to a normal observer, felt unnervingly swift from Osvald's perspective as it prepared its strike. A faint, yet distinct cracking sound echoed within his head.

Crack!

His expression contorted as the unmistakable cracking sounds emanated from within his head, his face turning ashen with each reverberation from his nodes. It required every ounce of his will to maintain focus while discreetly swallowing a pill, narrowly preventing further damage to his nodes.

Osvald glared defiantly at the Butcher, a surge of intense hatred fueling his resolve as the eyes surrounding the room grew larger and more numerous. With every blink, a subtle, wet sound permeated the air. The atmosphere grew heavy and dense as the eyes opened wide, their pupils darkening to a deep, blood-red hue.

Yet, the Butcher remained relentless, its hand ascending further, constricting the very air around them.

"⎯⎯!"

Osvald's face contorted, his eyes bloodshot and trembling. Strained, drawn-out sounds emanated from within his skull as he fought to maintain his composure. However, observing the Butcher, he perceived a subtle shift.

Its movements...

They were indeed slowing.

"!!"

But this was the extent of his progress. Despite pouring everything into the effort, his sole achievement was a marginal reduction in the Butcher's speed. The weapon continued its descent, and as Osvald’s gaze remained fixed on the blade, he knew that its complete fall meant the severance of his head.

Shit! Shit...!

"Akh⎯Go!"

Osvald locked eyes with the Team Leader, his hand clamped over his face as blood trickled from his eyes, the muffled sounds of his nodes fracturing persisting relentlessly, seemingly multiplying.

Cra Crack! Cra Crack! Cra Crack!

The agony was immense! Osvald clutched his face, desperately trying to suppress the overwhelming pain. He yearned to cease it all, to escape this torment, but he understood his lack of alternatives as he gazed at the Butcher, its hand still descending.

It had now moved past the halfway point.

Osvald screamed internally, his body convulsing and writhing as he fought to remain upright.

Without hesitation, Osvald reached back into his pocket, procuring several more pills and consuming them. Instantly, the cracking sounds abated, and some of his nodes even began to show signs of regeneration. The excruciating pain subsided as well.

Remarkable transformations began to manifest in the surroundings. The eyes adorning the entire space expanded dramatically, nearly engulfing the room, their color deepening to an even more profound shade of red.

One... approaching black.

They no longer synchronized their blinks. Each eye moved independently, their rhythmic wet sounds overlapping, creating a discordant symphony that filled the silence between heartbeats with an almost organic cadence.

The Butcher's descending hand appeared to halt momentarily. For a fleeting instant, the world seemed to freeze...

Everything, that is, except the Team Leader, who had already commenced his movement towards the Conductor.

"H-ha... G-go."

Osvald rasped, his gaze fixed on the Team Leader. His mind felt clouded, each breath searing as if inhaling fire. He was barely holding on. Facing the Butcher, he could feel its power escalating, and the very fabric of space around them growing increasingly unstable.

Almost...

Osvald’s eyes followed the Team Leader's progress towards the Conductor.

He was nearing his objective.

Time seemed to stretch, as if moving in slow motion. For a fleeting second, Osvald considered urging the Team Leader to shift his focus to the Butcher. However, he reconsidered, realizing the Butcher was not a mere anomaly, and direct engagement might prove futile. Furthermore, approaching it could provoke the Conductor into action.

The objective was clear.

Secure control of the Conductor.

But strangely...

Observing the Conductor, which seemed to regard the unfolding events with amusement, and knowing it too was influenced by the eyes, Osvald felt a growing sense of foreboding.

But what...? What could its grand plan possibly entail?

CRA CRACK!

"Aaaaakh!"

Osvald's consciousness fractured with a sharp sound, his entire countenance contorting as he lurched backward. He scarcely had time to grasp the unfolding situation before an overwhelming bloodlust saturated the atmosphere.

This palpable menace seemed to steal the very air from his lungs, and he fought to maintain his balance as agony coursed through his head, nearly causing him to collapse immediately. The intensity was such that his vision blacked out for several moments, as if struck by sudden blindness.

When his sight cleared, Osvald recoiled in horror; the Butcher's hand had advanced even further. His face contorted in panic as he fumbled for his pocket, unhesitatingly downing all the remaining pills in a single, desperate gulp.

As before, the pills offered swift respite, halting the cracking in his nodes and causing his eyes to widen. Nevertheless, this did nothing to impede the Butcher, whose power appeared to surge with every passing second.

'Come on! Come on!'

Osvald redirected his focus to the Team Leader, perspiration tracing paths down his face as he observed the leader materialize near the Conductor. Curiously, the Conductor remained utterly still, rooted to its spot. This was even true during the brief instant Osvald lost command of the 'eyes' when his node fractured.

Instead, the Conductor's smile seemed to deepen into a sinister contortion as it regarded the approaching Team Leader.

The world seemed to decelerate further through Osvald's perception as he fixated on the tableau before him.

Ba... Thump! Ba... Thump!

The more he scrutinized the Conductor and its chilling expression, the more a disquieting dread festered in his chest. It swelled to such a degree that he almost overlooked the Butcher, even as its blade descended nearly to its full extent.

Cra Crack! Cra Crack! Cra Crack!

As the internal fracturing intensified within his mind, the pills he had consumed, despite originating from the Sixth Order establishment, yielded diminishing returns. Osvald watched as the Team Leader reached the Conductor, his form blurring in a swift movement, only to reappear directly behind his adversary.

The speed was astonishing, so much so that it even caught Osvald off guard, who struggled to comprehend the feat.

But most critically...

He witnessed the Team Leader place a hand upon the Conductor's back, and the Conductor's lips stretched impossibly wide, reaching towards its temples, as it raised a hand and commenced its performance.

A delicate melody unfurled into the air.