It felt as if you were floating. When you opened your eyes, the same pitch black was all you could see. A heartbeat echoed in the dark, and you had a horrible feeling that it wasn't yours.

You found yourself unable to react as a body suddenly hit the ground in front of you. You recognized the red robe, the messy hair...

Mark's body stared at you with black, empty eyes. Uncaring. Dead.

"It's not fair, isn't it?" it spoke. You knew it wasn't really Mark. It couldn't be.

It's form began to flicker like a dying light and before you could even blink, it was gone.

It wasn't too long before Celine stepped out of the darkness. A red glow surrounded her, like before. It didn't feel quite as threatening this time.

"He took everything from us," she said, staring at the spot where Mark's body had been. Her voice echoed, filling the space you were in. It seemed to grow darker and deeper as it repeated. "He trapped us in here with this broken shell and no way out. The whole time I thought it was the house, but..." she sighed. "I never thought he'd fall this far. I played right into his hands. He'd been planning this for years."

You had so many thoughts running through your head, so many uncertainties. You still couldn't move. You could only watch and listen.

"Look, I know you have questions. I can't answer everything right now. I just need you to know that Mark took everything from me- from us- in his twisted quest for vengeance. But death does not mean the same thing here."

Were you dead? Was that why you were in this place? What even was this place? Was Celine really dead, too?

"This doesn't have to be the end. You're trapped in here just the same as me, but your body is still out there."

You wanted to tell her to wait, to slow down, to let your mind catch up. You couldn't be dead. You hadn't felt any pain, you had just... fallen asleep for a few moments. You were fine, right?

"Mark's not the only one that can use this place to his benefit. The same way that he brought us here is the same way that I can send us back. But... you can't survive on your own, and neither can I. I'm sorry to say this, but you're dead, too. The Colonel saw to that."

This wasn't right. The contempt in her voice just didn't belong. She loved William, she knew none of this was his fault. She was on his side.

"He's dangerous now. I know this all sounds crazy, but you need to believe me. Just... let me in. We can fix this. Together. I won't force this on you. You have a choice here. Just know that this is the only way that you can escape."

No. No no no no this wasn't right.

"No." With your anger, your fear, your confusion, your doubt, you found your voice. Yes, it was quiet and weak, but it was still there.

Celine looked annoyed.

"No? Are you sure? You're giving up your only chance of living again."

"No," you said again, more forcefully. You started to gain more control of your actions. "I'm sorry, Celine, I truly am. But this isn't right. If I'm really dead, like you say, coming back isn't... it isn't natural."

Her eyes narrowed in anger. You flinched slightly, but still held your ground. You were growing more powerful in this place. You weren't sure if that was good or bad.

"You'll never see Damien again."

That one hit you hard. You felt a pain in your heart. You had finally, after years of waiting, gotten the man you loved. And by some miracle, he loved you back. Now you were going to lose it all. You would give almost anything to see him again. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"It's not right," you said again.

"You're making a mistake."

"No." You weren't backing down now. As much as it hurt you, you knew this was the right choice.

"Fine. You're on your own, trapped here forever. Good luck." And with that, she faded away.

You were alone again. Floating in the pitch black nothingness. Doubt started to creep in. Had you made the right choice?

It felt like days, months, years were passing around you. There was only the Dark to keep you company. You curled into a ball and closed your eyes, which didn't really make a difference. It was all the same, opened or closed.

"I killed her..." Your eyes snapped open, but there was still nothing. A few moments passed and you started to believe you had just imagined the voice.

"William, please, help me!" Damien?

"Damien, what have I done?" The Colonel. Your heart hurt when you heard the pain in that voice. You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you forgave him. You knew he never meant to hurt anybody.

Was this Celine's way of torturing you? Of getting you to change your mind? You covered your ears.

"She still has a pulse! Help me, you bastard!"

Wait a minute...

A small screen- the same one from before, from the first set of memories- flickered to life in front of you. You could see the Colonel walking up and down the upstairs hallway, running his hands through his hair over and over again. His hat was laying discarded on the floor.

"Will, please!" You watched as he stopped his nervous pacing. Then, hesitantly, he took small, worried steps toward the voice.

As he got closer, you saw Damien. He had taken his suit coat off and was holding it against something. He was on the ground, bent over a figure, and his hands were bloody. He looked panicked. Of course, he's probably kneeling over your body.

"She's not dead!" he shouted. It took a minute for what he said to sink in. When it did, you let out a shout of joy, punching the air. You heard the echo of your exclamation. You wished he- anyone- could hear you.

"She... she's not..." The Colonel laughed. "Of course she isn't, I wouldn't kill her!"

"You need to help me! She's not dead, but she's dying. Give me your jacket and find bandages, a first aid kit, anything!"

With a crazy smile on his face, Will pulled off his coat, revealing a yellow dress shirt and red suspenders. He handed it to Damien, who then swapped it with his and pressed it to your stomach. Of course, stop the bleeding.

Still giggling to himself, the Colonel stumbled off down the stairs in search of something to help.

Damien stayed by your side, desperately begging you to stay with him.

"I'm here, I'm okay! Damien, I'm here!" you were calling out. It was so frustrating, being right there and knowing he couldn't hear you.

"You're going to be okay, I'm here, it's okay," he kept saying. Your blood seemed to be everywhere. His hands, his shirt, the carpet. Despite everything though, you could see the rise and fall of your chest. You were weak, but you were still holding on.

You sat in suspense, watching the screen with wide eyes. So close, yet so far away. You felt useless as Damien did his best to save you.

It only took the Colonel a few minutes to find supplies and run back.

"I'm here, Damien, she's going to be okay!" The Colonel's sudden optimism surprised you. It was such a drastic change from before, when he believed he had killed you. He rushed forward with the detective's bag and a small sewing kit, as well as a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He all but dropped them on the floor next to Damien.

"Okay, okay, we need to, uh, we need to-"

"We need to see if the bullet is still stuck in her," Will said, kneeling next to his friend.

Damien nodded, pulling away the jacket. Blood had almost seeped part of the way through, staining a good portion of the coat.

"Shit, what now?" You could tell Damien was just barely working through his panic. He had always been good at keeping a level head, but this seemed to be too much for him.

"You need to pull off her shirt, we need to get a better look at the wound." The Colonel's mood change surprised you yet again. He had gone from the brink of insanity to euphoria to this moment of lucidness.

You watched Damien hesitate, his fingers just barely touching the hem of your shirt. You wished you could tell him it was okay. Sensing his hesitation, William reached forward and pulled it up just to the bottom of your bra. You silently thanked him.

Finally, you got a look at what had happened to you. Even through the screen, you could sense that it wasn't good.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, William I don't know what to do!"

You couldn't take your eyes off of your stomach. Upon closer inspection, it didn't actually look too bad. It was just a small hole. Blood was slowly oozing out, but even that looked manageable.

"We need to flip her over. If it went clean through, then the exit is going to be much worse than the entrance. There's a few medical supplies in the detective's... in the bag. Grab the gauze, hold it right there. Keep it there while I turn her."

You almost couldn't watch. A voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that that was you. You might be watching yourself die.

The picture began flickering just as they were flipping you over. A cry of panic and fear bubbled its way up your throat, but never made it past your tongue.

Then, the screen shut off completely.