[Please read the note at the bottom!]

“No, no, no, come back!” you shouted, darkness enveloping you once more. It didn’t last long, however.

“Are you ready to change your mind yet?” Celine was back, her red aura casting unnerving shadows around you. Echoes filled the room again, but they sounded strange. It was as if it wasn’t her voice echoing back.

“What did you do? I want them back, please, Celine!” You were desperate. You needed to know if you were okay. You needed to know if they were okay.

“I can bring us back, (y/n)! I can help you, how do you not understand that?” She spoke with power and control, but you sensed a hint of desperation in her tone as well.

Every part of you wanted to say yes to her offer. But when you opened your mouth, something else inside of you took over.

“It’s not right! How do you not understand that?" Something clicked in your brain. "That was what Mark did, wasn't it? He came back. What was it... stabbed 37 times,  poisoned, beaten, strangled, drowned, and shot. In that order, but not all at once," you said, quoting the detective. "He didn't stay dead." It made sense. Well, maybe not, but it was the only available explanation.

Celine hesitated before responding.

"Yes. It was the house, it had to have been. In all the times I'd been there, I sensed a dangerous energy. Something... unnatural. Yes, he came back. Multiple times." She sighed, then continued. "He became too powerful. He learned to use it to his advantage."

"He was selfish," you concluded. "He set William up. He was selfish and jealous." You felt a small pang of guilt. This man had been your friend. You had known him for years. You had trusted him. He never seemed capable of anything like this. But of course, times change.

"Be careful what you say, he's still here."

"What are you talking about?"

"I already told you, he's what's keeping us trapped in here. The house built this place, but he's controlling it."

God, this whole thing was so messed up. It was just supposed to be a poker party. You knew why he was doing this, but there was a bigger "why?" bouncing around in your head. Why did he have to drag innocent people into this?

"I can get us out of here. Neither of us have to suffer any longer! You can be with Damien again! The Colonel is dangerous, you know this. He shot you, do you really think he'd spare Damien? He's snapped. One wrong move and your boyfriend will be joining us here."

The deep echo of her voice no longer seemed like an echo. In fact, it sounded awfully familiar. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you voiced your suspicions.

"You're not really Celine, are you?"

Her red aura flickered, and for a split second you could see a dark shadow behind her.

"It's still me, (y/n)," she said.

"Celine would know William wasn't truly dangerous. She would know he never meant to harm anyone. She would be on his side. You're not really Celine."

Once again, her aura flickered. The looming shadow appeared closer than before.

"He killed the detective. He shot you, too. You can't be serious in believing he's completely innocent in all of this!" Power was radiating off of Celine's form, but you stood your ground.

"I know it's you."

"HE MURDERED MARK!"

You wouldn't have thought it possible, but a flash of lightening hit Celine, who disappeared. It was followed by a BOOM of thunder resounding through the barren nothingness all around you. The light illuminated the shadow figure, who stepped forward to take Celine's place.

This confirmed it.

"Mark."

"He took my Celine!" the man shouted. "We grew up together, we were practically brothers! How could he do something like that?"

Mark began angrily pacing back and forth, an intensity in his dead eyes that you never expected to see. You knew how much power he had over this place. Needless to say, you were terrified.

But you knew that all you needed was time. Time for Damien and Will to help you. If your physical body was stronger, maybe Mark wouldn't be able to hold you here any longer.

"Why?" That was the only thing you could think to say. You had been wanting to ask him that from the second you found out about his whole plan.

"I tried to kill myself," he said, his voice low, gravelly, and quiet. Furious. Unstable. "I stabbed myself and watched as I bled out. The pain... it was torture. But for some godforsaken reason, I woke up a few hours later, perfectly fine. The wound was still there. I still felt the pain. Somehow, I was alive."

You covered your mouth in shock. The detective said he had been stabbed 37 times. How did he deal with the pain, the suffering that that included?

"I'm so sorry, Mark. I really am." Memories of the happy, eccentric man he used to be popped into your head. You missed your friend. Whatever he was now wasn't your Mark. This was a monster.

"You're sorry? I've been keeping an eye on you since the beginning, and you've done nothing but side against me!" he yelled. You flinched in fear. 

"I-I tried to solve your murder. I helped the detective with his investigation. I found your body, Mark. None of this had to happen!" Your voice had started off small, but was growing as you continued. "You still had people that loved you! Me, Damien, Abe! We cared about you so, so much! We would have dropped everything to help you!"

Mark was silent for a while. You wondered how much time had passed. How much time Damien and William needed. How much time before you were safe. Or, how much time before you finally died.

"Then let me in," he finally said.

Something slid down your cheek. You hadn't realized you were crying.

"I can't do that, Mark. I love you and I miss you, but what's dead should stay dead."

His rage returned, hatred evident in his voice as he shouted, "YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME! ABE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO STAYED ON MY SIDE THE ENTIRE TIME. AND NOW, BECAUSE OF YOUR PRECIOUS COLONEL, HE'S DYING ALONE IN A HALLWAY."

"He... he's not dead?" If you could just wake up and let the others know, then maybe nobody else would have to die. Poor Celine would be the only loss. It would be just short of a miracle.

"What does it matter? All of you, from the second you got the invitation, were dead! This house is cursed. Celine... my sweet, stupid Celine, she knew. She tried to save all of you. She thought she could stop me."

"Mark-"

"In the past, I've always been able to return to my body," he interrupted. "It grew weaker and weaker with each death, while I grew stronger and stronger in here. Now, I have nothing to return to." He sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. "We used to be such good friends. If you really still cared about me, you would help me."

You knew what he was doing. While it still hurt, you refused to let him guilt you.

"Mark, I-" A sudden pain ripped through your abdomen, cutting off your words. You curled into a ball, your arms wrapped around your stomach. The screen was still nowhere to be seen, but you could hear voices again.

"Let's move her onto a bed. I don't think lying in a puddle of her own blood is going to do her any good." That had to be the Colonel. Despite the pain, you smiled. They did it!

You knew you were close to waking up, and you could tell that Mark knew, too.

"Let me in, (y/n)!"

You shook your head, still smiling.

"You're only delaying the inevitable! I'll find a way back and I'll kill everyone you love, starting with the Colonel! He ruined my life, he did this!" His shouting was becoming fainter. He seemed farther and farther away with each passing second. You closed your eyes.

When they snapped back open moments later, you were almost blinded by the light shining into your room. The first thing you saw was the leftover medical supplies on the nightstand. Then, you let out a cry of pain. It was hitting you in waves. You weren't used to this, you'd never felt anything like it before. It slowly registered in your brain that you were laying on a soft, warm surface.

Then Damien was standing over you, panic and concern in his expression. You felt his hands touch your shoulders, then your face. A small pill was put in your mouth and a cup of water was held up to your lips. You greedily drank the liquid, then took another pill when it was offered.

"I'm so sorry, it's all we have," you heard Damien say.

"No, it's fine, you did fine," you said through gritted teeth. Damien grabbed your hand and sat beside you. You held it like a lifeline, squeezing until the pain became at least manageable. At some point you noticed that the cuffs of his sleeves were stained red with blood, but his hands were clean. He must have scrubbed it off.

You could feel where the bullet entered, and where it exited. It felt like it someone had stabbed you with a white-hot iron poker and then hit you repeatedly with a baseball bat. You could also feel the stitches holding you together.

"I knew you guys could do it," you finally said, your teeth still clenched together. You kissed his hand. You never wanted to let go.

"What?"

"I don't know where I was, but I could see you and hear you and I knew that I would be okay."

"What are you talking about?" Damien looked more concerned than before, if possible.

"It was Celine, and she- well no, I suppose it wasn't really Celine-"

"You saw Celine?" You hadn't noticed William, who was leaning against the wall by the door. He looked hopeful. Your heart sank.

"It wasn't really her. She's gone, Will. I'm so, so sorry."

He nodded, defeat in his eyes. Quickly, you tried to change the subject.

"Where did you learn to do that? Take care of gunshot wounds, I mean. You saved my life, William. Thank you."

He gave you a small, sad smile. "I was in the military, my dear. They don't call me 'Colonel' for nothing. It wasn't my first time patching someone up, and it wasn't my first time shooting... anyway, really, it's Damien you should be thanking. He grabbed you before you fell."

You almost didn't catch that last part. The phrase "patching someone up" triggered something in your mind. You gasped and tried to sit up, but failed when the pain became too much. You settled for propping yourself up slightly, then shouted, "Abe is still alive! William, he's still alive in that hallway!"

"How would you know that?" he asked, doubtful.

"Please, I need you to trust me!"

He gave a weak laugh, then turned to open the door. While he was leaving, you heard him mumble, "Of course he's not dead. I didn't mean to shoot him. I never wanted to kill him."

"How do you know that?" Damien asked. "What do you mean you saw Celine?"

"I don't know if you'd believe me."

"Trust me, after today, I'll believe anything."

You took a deep breath before saying, "It wasn't really Celine. Mark wanted to use me to... come back. It's this house, Damien. There's something very wrong with this house. When I rejected him, Mark said I was only delaying the inevitable. That he'd find another way out. He said he was going to kill everyone I care about, starting with the Colonel. He's hellbent on revenge."

"Jesus," he muttered. "Mark... he's turned into a monster."

"Damien, I don't want anyone else to die." Your voice came out as a whisper. He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

"First chance we get, we're leaving this house and going far, far away. The three of us. We'll all be okay, I promise."

For the first time in what seemed like years, you felt safe.

That feeling evaporated the second William threw open the bedroom door, and shouted with panic in voice, "He's gone!"

At first you felt relief. Thank god, you thought, he survived. Then you felt alarm when you realized the danger of the situation. Obviously, he wasn't going to be very pleased with the Colonel.

"What the bloody hell do you mean 'he's gone'?!" Damien said, holding your hand a bit tighter.

"There's just blood, no trail! He's not there! His gun is missing, too!"

You were so tired of fear. You were so tired of feeling helpless. You were so tired of being confused. You were so tired of this goddamn house.

"First Mark, now the detective. What the fuck is going on? How is everybody just disappearing?" Damien stood and began nervously pacing while William locked the door behind him.

"Where could he have gone?" you finally asked.

Everyone froze as a beep and then a faint crackling could be heard. Your heart seemed to stop when you realized it was coming from Abe's bag.

Damien slowly approached the nightstand where it sat. Cautiously, he reached in and pulled out a small radio. It's crepitating was the only sound in the room.

You gestured for Damien to bring it closer. Holding it like it might be a bomb, he carried it over to the bed so you could take a look at it. William followed and soon you were all gathered around it.

You all jumped and Damien dropped the device onto the sheets when sudden, harsh coughing could be heard.

"What the hell?" Damien asked. The idea of ghosts popped into your head.

Then a voice spoke, loud and clear.

"Colonel... if you can hear this... you'd better run."

[Wow, what a journey this has been. I'm proud to say that this is my first ever COMPLETED fanfiction. While I'm really sad that it's over, I'm also excited to move on to bigger projects. I can finally put this behind me and take another step forward. Mark, thank you for creating WKM and inspiring me to write again. And thank all of you for reading this. I love you all, and for the last time, I hope you enjoyed my story. Goodbye!]