AN AT THE END

TW: SELF HARM, MURDER, DEATH, GORE, VERY GRAPHIC IN GENERAL

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"When you hear an unusual sound in the dark, look to your left, right, and behind. But don't look up, she hates being seen."
-Unknown

I am a fast learner. I catch onto the rules of games quickly. This game wasn't an exception.

The rules were simple: never look up.

We were never told why though, and none of us asked. We just did what we were told and that's what kept us alive.

We've watched our friends fail and look up. We knew very well what would happen if someone looked up.

I recall Victoria. She was skeptical. We told her she shouldn't, but she looked up anyway.

It started off with a struggle. She was overwhelmed by strange visions and sensations. The images of the endless, dark depths consumed her mind. We knew she was doomed. I wish I could have said goodbye.

In a final act of desperation, she cried out for mercy, for sanity, for anything that might save her from the horrifying grasp of the creature. Her efforts proved futile once more, they failed to escape.

Her hands stiffened and clawed at the walls and the doors, as though escape would save her from her fate. She bashed at the doors, but they were too strong. The first few minutes her hands would leave just scratches - then the fingers weakened, and the cold stone walls would be smeared red. As she bludgeoned her own hands her strange muttering would echo throughout the chamber. She screamed until her lungs were sore, until her voice went hoarse. She kept on screaming. The thoughts never stopped; her mind continued to unravel.

Victoria was trapped in the endless abyss of the creature's grasp; it was a fate far worse than death. And there was no escaping it.

In two days, Victoria was able to let go of the Earthly tethers by battering her head repeatedly against the walls (we got new designer-red wallpapers that day, so not too bad😎). What an emetic sight it was.

If by the third day she had not stopped screaming, the participants would be given a gun with only one bullet. They choose what to do with it.

As the days stretched to weeks, our numbers diminished. People were losing hope. After Victoria, there was Karl; after Karl, there was James; after James, there was Ann, and so it continued. There were just three of us left.

Our voices rang through the chamber. The smell of mold that we were so used to by now flooded our nostrils; in and out, in and out, as the dust-filled air continued to rot our lungs.

Dark and cold it was.

Dead leaves on the floor and rubble. Where did the rubble come from? My eyes slowly began to examine the forever-red walls as they did a million times before. I looked around, my mind begging to feed on something more interesting other than 'a pebble', or 'a leaf', or 'another crack'. The walls had started to scrap off, like the person's past was shedding its skin off as everyone forgets about it.

I could smell death in there. It wasn't corpses, but the death of an era, the death of a lifetime, the death of innocents. The death of your humanity.

None of us knew how much time had passed. None of us knew how much longer we'd be trapped in this stupid game. None of us could take it anymore. We all agreed to look up. To finally end this cruel game, to finally be free.

as we gather around in a circle, a mix of anxiety and anticipation hung in the air. We had all agreed to a bold and daring plan, one that required an immense amount of courage and conviction. But as the minutes ticked by, and the time drew closer for it to be put into action, one of us began to falter.

I was the first one to speak up. My voice quavering as I admitted that I couldn't do it. I thought I could, had thought I could stomach the risk. but I know I couldn't. The pressure was simply too great, and my resolve began to crumble.

But it was too late.

The two have already looked up. Screaming filled the room.

And it hadn't left the room for three days.

The deafening gunshot and the silence that followed will forever be engraved in my memory.

The cold metal of the gun rested firmly in my hand, its weight heavy and steady. I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't want to do this, I really didn't, but circumstances had led me to this point. I raised the gun, my hand shaking slightly as I aimed it at their head. There was no silence. The room was so loud, so heavy, it felt like the world had come to a standstill. My breath came in shallow gasps, my mind racing a million miles a minute. My- my friend on the other end of the gun was screaming at me, begging for me to do it. The moment felt like an eternity, the tension so thick you could slice it with a knife. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest, fear was taking over my mind.

Then silence fell over all of us.

Finally, the silence was broken by a single, shaky breath. It was time. I knew it was time, but still I hesitated, my hand trembling as I tried to make up my mind. The tension palpable in the room, I finally pulled the trigger. A loud, piercing sound filled the room, the gun recoiling in my hand as I dropped it to the ground in shock. My friend lay motionless on the ground, their eyes open.

It was easier to do the second time.

The silence felt like a suffocating blanket that surrounded me, leaving me trapped in my own thoughts. With no one else to distract me, the guilt was consuming me, eating me alive and sticking a knife in my heart. The never-ending loop of thought that left me nowhere was rotting my brain. What I needed was the distraction of the shouting and the voices of my friends, to drown out the creeping thoughts that plagued my mind. But the silence was too much--it made me want to look up, just to get away from the deafening sound of nothing.

The corpses I've lived with for the last few days are a macabre sight, to say the least. Their skin has taken on a sickly greyish-green colour, like they've been exposed to moisture for too long. Their eyes are sunken and dull, with a cloudy opacity to them. They're rigid and cold to the touch, like they're made of stone. I can feel the stiffness of their bones as I move them, and the sound of their joints creaking is like nails on a blackboard.

And I can't get the smell out of my mind. It's a sickening, pungent odor that clings to everything, like a rotten egg that's been left out in the sun for too long. I can't escape it, no matter where I go. It's like the stench has become a part of my body, seeping into my nostrils and into my clothes.

At first, I tried to ignore it, tried to push it away, but it was impossible. It's always there, ever-present, like a cloud that hangs over me, suffocating me. Sometimes I catch myself breathing it in deep, like my body is trying to digest the sickness. I hate myself for becoming accustomed to it, for allowing it to become a part of me.

I don't know how much longer I can live like this, with this stench permeating my life. I need to do something, to get away, but I don't know where to start. I feel lost, trapped in this nightmare of smell, with no way out.

Despite their state, I can't help but feel a sense of empathy for them. They were once living, breathing human beings, full of hopes and dreams. They were once my friends. Now they're nothing more than empty shells, their spirits long since gone.

I can't take it anymore.

I can't play these games.

I can't do this.

I stood frozen in place, my body feeling as though it was weighed down by an invisible force. My mind raced, my heart pounding against my chest, and I felt the bile rise in my throat. The smell of the corpses permeated the room, like the weight of the air itself, making it hard to breathe. I closed my eyes tight, willing away the rising panic.

Slowly, my eyes drifted upwards, my chest heaving in and out with each breath. The ceiling loomed above me, seemingly mocking the horror that lay below.

I took a deep breath, holding it in my lungs as I prepared to look at the ceiling, my mind drifting. Finally, I let it out, the sound of my laugh hoarse, barely audible. I was going to do it. I'm going to end this nightmare, this horror that I've lived through for far too long.

I slowly turned my head, my neck cracking as I forced myself to face the ceiling. I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes once again, mentally preparing myself for what lay ahead.

It's finally going to be over.

I opened my eyes to be met with nothing but disappointment. The only thing that stared back at me was the cold, barren ceiling. Not even a speck of dust to break the monotony. Plain concrete, without a hint of life or colour. I had been afraid to face it for so long, for it had been the driving force behind my friends and family losing their sanity. It had been my own downfall, my descent into madness. Plain concrete, it drove us all here, to this state of despair.

I screamed. 

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so um...it's been a while...sorry about that. I don't have any excuse tbh, i just stopped using wattpad that much. I began working on a mega-chapter (i'm not kidding it's like 2000 words and i'm not even half done😭) and i just wanted to post something for once because well- idk. Just wanted to post anything that i'm proud of. Might update this again soon cuz i have another story i wanna share (also very gory). also, this originally was an english assignment and we had to write a halloween story...i think i failed the task successfully?

idk- like, i made it scary (hopefully) but it's not the typical halloween story you'd see...idk let me know if i'll pass this

until next time,
byeeeeeeeeeee