11.2 CLOSURE

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Her eyes followed his line of sight, to the very end of the curving hall. And there she saw, an indescribable horror created from pure madness: white coat soaked in blood, bodies and severed limbs pilled up in a clump of flesh, staff and patients alike, as a mountain of death. But at the center of it all, was a head sticking out, its skin bearing bruises and scratch marks. She took a few steps forward, all of her focus on this one familiar face.

"..." Her heart skipped a beat, a crushing sensation pained her chest. Everything around her came crashing down; she knew the risks, but never fully realized what it would do to her, how much could facing the truth destroy her within seconds. "That's... that's..." She couldn't get the words out; her thoughts in limbo, her mind struggled between hellish nightmare and cruel reality. Growls and moans could be heard, yet she remained unresponsive to the sounds. There was movement, something trying to crawl out of the pile, but all she saw was this one dead teenage boy.

"... Anaka..?" He took note of her shivering. "Something's in there..." He hounded past her, an arm stretched as to prevent her from moving forward. She remained still however, whether she heard him or not, he couldn't tell. The sounds of the undead persisted, some of the limbs twitched, a pair of hands slowly rising out of the clump. "Anaka- we need to move... now." He backed away slowly, his weapon aimed at the pile, his other arm pushing her back.

"..." She complied, but remained completely silent.

Soon enough, a head came out; one missing eye, one cloudy in shade, its flesh of decay and blood. What was once human, had been reduced to nothing more than induced insanity, an abomination created by those playing gods. Young in appearance, a visible scar on the left cheek; she noticed the pair of cherry earrings, another face she knew all too well.

"Raphael..." She hushed. "... Mika..." Something akin to desolation took hold of her, yet she could shed no tears, as if her mind refused to fully process the feeling.

"You don't mean..!?" His eyes widened, and a gunshot was heard. Anaka stood motionless, her expression devoid of emotion; looking lifeless, as she held her weapon. One bullet straight to the head, granting the once teenager girl a quick death.

Few moments passed, his eyes bouncing between her and the pile of bodies; he could see no more movement, nor hear any growls and moans. His mind stormed with a million thoughts, but he could find no word to express any. He refocused on her: he lowered her arms, took away her handgun, and gently backed her against the wall.

"Anaka..." He struggled against her lack of reaction; she was unreachable, completely shattered. There was one thing he could do however: behind the clump of flesh, was a single door, with a sign that read B1 Quinary Levers. This has to be it... but should I go in... alone..? His eyes traveled back to her. He sighed, his expression nothing short of empathy. "I'll be-" Sharing his next move felt wrong, out of place and somewhat unthoughtful. He refrained himself from talking, brushed the side of her arm, and proceeded on, to whatever awaited him on the other side of that door; one more glance back in direction of the pile, before going in.

He scouted the room, and quickly spotted a row of levers, as well as the remaining plugs on a side console. He remained hesitant, questioning his own decision to leave her behind, but also whether or not they should continue on with this maddening quest to seek out the truth. All of this... she made it all this way, just to find two dead kids... His fists tightened. "FUCK-" He kicked a nearby chair. In dire need to calm himself down, he took a few moments to simply breathe, and recollect his thoughts.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" He pulled out the two pieces. "Where do we go from here?" His mind screamed a spectrum of swears. And then, another gunshot.


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