Trapped in a vicious cycle, time and time again Mono has only known failure. Bound by an incomprehensible force and queer visions of deja vu, all of this has happened before, but he couldn't recall when. For once more he will journey to the pale cit...
That popped in my recommendations, and I couldn't believe I was seven years late to hear it... This stuff is FIYAH!
Warning! (those are rare, you know.): Blood! Gore! like... a lot! And uhhhh. It's too dangerous to go alone, here take this with you.
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It will help you through!
3318 words, here w go again... ---------
Mono ran as fast as he could without slipping a single glance backward. That sickly feeling stuck with him as made for the faint blue light at the end of the room. In the back of his mind, he constantly questioned his sanity. Who was I talking to all this time? A skeleton?! A ghost?! Was it all just an illusion?! No, that can't be it, what happened back there was far too real to be an illusion. Mono has seen so much queer stuff this past week, things he still couldn't wrap his mind around, he thought they were just part of this twisted world. But this just struck differently, what's dead ought to stay that way.
He burst out of the small office and pulled the door shut until he heard the lock click. He leaned his back against the wooden surface and slid down on the floor. He reached under his paper bag and rubbed his temple, taking heavy breaths. With his other hand, he pulled his coat close to his chest, breathing in her scent. It smelled horrible, a mix of blood, mud, and dust. But it was hers nonetheless. He felt It feed his willpower and strengthened his resolve. Slightly nodding, Mono slid the sleeves of the coat through his arms and lifted it to his shoulders.
He stood up and looked around, Mono found himself in what looked like a storage room, where the light of the moon shone through the half-open window just above a pile of boxes laden with books. It seemed to him that it was the only way out, so he treaded carefully towards it, sure not to step on anything sharp as he went on. Despite his best effort, his foot fell on something pointy. He made a tiny pained sound in his throat, he looked down to see that it was a porcelain shard from one of those dolls.
Mono furrowed his brows, to his left, hidden in the shadows, laid a lifeless doll. Its head was cracked open. Mono's heart sank the moment he saw blood trickling down from the sharp edges. Signs of a struggle, she fought back, she can't be far. His eyes shot towards the window, Not long now, I'm coming, Six.
He quickened his pace passing the towering stacks of papers and squeezing through the narrow gaps between the boxes until he was below the window. Wasting no time, he gripped the cavity in the boxes and started climbing, then book by book, he hooked his fingers and toes on their edges and hauled himself upwards until he reached the window sill.
The biting wind hissed past him, cutting through his skin like ice shards. He took cover behind the corner of the window and waited a few moments for the gust to pass. Once the wind ceased howling, Mono stepped out of the window. He gulped, feeling the vertigo kicking in. A plank stretched from this window to the next building. It had tears in the middle, threatening to split at any moment. Sweat beaded on Mono's scalp as his hands began to quiver at his sides. d-did they really come through here? is there no other way?
