(((((A/N: CHAPTER-LY WARNINGS FROM MIKAH !!!!! CURSING, BLOOD. I'm sorry if you canmt keep up with the vocab i hope i made it eazier this time ^^)))))
Uhh where were we agai
We were lost in the sudden flicker of lights that gave some gasps out from nearly all those present.
Mike, in his unexpressive conduct, remained rooted to his spot, some of the confusion now replaced by a bemused neutrality. Amongst the muted ambience, the anxious whispers of some players were heard, casting a pall of uncertainty over the gathering.
While trying to seek some comfort in attempt, Mike, taking a cautious step backward, bumped into a piece of furniture, supposedly a couch, uttering a grunt filled with discomfort.
"Ouch...ie." he uttered in mild protest.
Yet, during the worried whimpers, two screams pierced the air, a sinister contrast to the already fearful atmosphere. It was at this point that Mike's own unexpressionless manner began to waver, and an unfamiliar sense of agitation developed in him.
With fear gnawing at him, he spun in a hurried pace to confront the furniture, leaping over it in a desperate bid to escape whatever lay in its shadowy recesses.
He landed next to a figure, concealed in the darkness, their identity cannot be recognized due to how dark it was. But...
Mike didn't really care, and didn't apologize either, but as he got up, sway from the unrecognizable figure, a disturbing moisture clung to his fingertips. His gaze narrowed, and a disconcerting realization struck him.
"What the fuck ?"
He scrutinized with undeniable unease, squinting in an attempt to discern the truth.
"Shit.. Is that . . . Blood ?"
Mike bared a reluctance to accept the gruesome truth that lay before him . . A truth reminiscent of the frigid, lifeless corporeal state he had once endured.
No, don't think about it.
Quickly, he pivoted and hastened in an unplanned direction, inadvertently bumping into others in his escape.
He ran into a wall led to a tumble on his part, leaving him on the ground. In this moment of annoyance, a fortuitous encounter transpired—a journal fell onto his head.
Yet, the obscurity conspired against him, reading the journal nearly indecipherable. His reliance on eyeglasses was proven to be absolutely useless, offering no help to his vision.
He cradled the journal against his chest, tilting his head with a delicate inclination toward the volume. With measured precision, he embarked upon the gradual process of unfurling its pages, his gaze fixing intently upon the initial leaf.
The journal read,
' Atleast one of these one of these players is good: Nikolai, Eduardo '
A furrow creased his brow as he pondered, his thoughts peaked to him in a perplexed doubt. .
' Who the hell even are these people ? '
Mike blinked .
The journal, an unexpected bestowal upon him, left him grappling with the question of its intended repository. What purpose did it serve, and why had it been entrusted to him?
In a sudden, illuminating revelation, the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, igniting a metaphorical lightbulb within his cognizance. "Oh, right, I'm the detective." He recalled, his emotion abruptly turning back into a more serious one.
"Nikolai and Eduardo ? ? Weird ass names ." He mused.
The thought of just going around and getting to know everyone engraved in him; In a bad way.
Flipping to the first page of the journal, Mike noticed a pen holder on the side of the journal. He slipped the pen from the holder and proceeded to write . . . Or chicken scratch . . ? Scribble . What do you call it ? But he wrote on the journal without any hesitation . .
' I HATE EVERYONE '
Once the ink was inscribed into the page, he restored the pen to its designated holder, thereafter going into a ponder, as he wondered the question of what course of action to take with the journal.
(((((seriously what do the players do when they're done with their journal shit)))))
His desire remained , the yearning for leaving this stupid game remained. He sighed, the duration of this game was worrying. How long was this gonna take?
However, there was . . . Another problem that concerned him more. How long was this 'lights off' thing gonna take ? an irksome inquiry demanded his attention. This initiated a sense of annoyance that nagged him.
Oh, but thanks to his wonders . . .
The lights , they went back on !
And his journal disappeared that's funny
The players cheered . Most of the players . The illumination was restored! How are they not happy?
But . . .
Something, demised
Lamented, lost, fallen and perished
A grotesque horror was on the ground. But it wasn't just that.
Everyone stopped their cheering.
Upon the table, an horrid scene unfolded
It appears that an occurrence of not one, but two lives were tragically extinguished.
"Damn, are we that dramatic here? It's just some lifeless bodies."
An unrecognizable vocal was heard.
(((((A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS CHAOTER IS SHORT!!! I have no FUCKING ideas i need to kill myself riht now)))))
YOU ARE READING
Flicker: Whispers of My Unspoken Longing
Romance"Jesus Christ . . . What happened to you !?" Mike and Jean-Claude were inseparable since Jean-Claude transferred to Mike's school in around late 2017. But in 2019, Mike vanished, leaving Jean-Claude ruined. His astonishment escalated into depression...
