Play Hard

Back from The Depths

[Atsumu's POV]

"Thank you." 

I smiled at the cab driver and handed him a couple of bills before watching him drive away. There was my last exit, but it seemed like I just needed to suck it up. So slowly I began to head inside the apartment complex lobby and walked toward the elevator that I had grown so familiar with after living in that place for so long. 

However, as soon as that door closed right in front of me, the walls felt like they were caving in. It felt like I was not supposed to be there, and the emergency button was something I wanted to press at the moment. 

I finally stepped out of the elevator, walked toward my door, and fumbled with my keys to get it open. And when it did, I felt fear wash over me. 

The intruder had left chaos in their wake—the overturned furniture, the shattered vase, the ominous scratches on the hardwood. I couldn't shake the feeling that they might return. Paranoia clung to me like a shadow, whispering that danger still lurked within these walls.

I tiptoed across the room, my eyes darting from corner to corner. Every sound—the hum of the refrigerator, the rustle of the black velvet curtains—sent shivers down my spine. Was that a creak on the floors of the hallway? Or is it just my imagination?

The bedroom door stood ajar, and I hesitated. What if they were hiding in there? What if they watched me from the closet, waiting for the perfect moment to strike? I pushed the door open, my breath catching as I scanned the room. Empty. But the bed—the sheets neatly tucked—felt too inviting, too perfect. Had they sat there, mocking me?

I moved to the kitchen, my gaze fixated on the knife block. Would it be enough to defend myself? Or would it be turned against me? The floor-length windows overlooked the city, and I imagined their silhouette lurking in the darkness from beneath, waiting for me to let my guard down.

My phone suddenly buzzed—a message from the contractor, confirming the renovation was complete. But I couldn't shake the fear. The intruder had violated my sanctuary once; what stopped them from doing it again?

So after dropping my gym bag in the door, I sank onto the couch, my nerves frayed. The apartment smelled of fresh paint, but the scent of fear lingered underneath. I glanced at the clock—each tick echoing like a countdown. How long until they returned? Or worse, how long until my paranoia consumed me entirely?

And deciding not to let those feelings consume me too much, I decided that doing something fun would be a good distraction. So here I sat in front of my monitor and other streaming equipment pondering what I should play on stream to keep my mind occupied. It had been quite some time since I sat in front of the camera talking to my supporters about mundane things and playing some of my favorite games. 

'Let's play this,' I thought and clicked on a game for the stream before setting everything up and announcing my stream on SNS. 

The chat was buzzing with anticipation as I clicked "Start Stream." The game's title screen loomed before me, eerie music seeping through my headphones. "The Haunting of Hollow Manor"—a horror masterpiece that promised sleepless nights and frayed nerves.

"It's really been a while since I popped in and played a game with you guys. I hope you didn't miss me too much," I said and smiled at the camera. 

My viewers—loyal and curious—popped into the chat. "Hey, Atsumu!" and 
"Ready to face your fears?" they typed. I grinned, adjusting the camera angle to capture my nervous excitement. "Hell yeah," I replied, my voice betraying more bravado than I felt.

The game began innocently enough—a creaky door, a flickering light. But as I stepped into Hollow Manor, dread settled in my chest. The atmosphere was suffocating, shadows dancing along the walls. I navigated dimly lit corridors, heart pounding, flashlight trembling in my virtual hand.