endless horror

Awakening

Ye Wudao had always felt as though he were dead inside. Work, meals, sleep—he questioned the meaning of his existence, certain it wasn't found in the smirking face of his supervisor, the bodies of the so-called professional women he encountered at bars, or in the endless steel jungle of the modern city. He felt himself rotting, destined to decay from twenty-four to old age, destined to turn into mere dust, forgotten—an inconsequential office worker, lost in the grand scheme of things.

He yearned for change, for purpose. Then, one day in the office, as he opened his computer, a message popped up on the screen: "Do you want to understand the meaning of life? Do you truly want to... live?" Initially dismissing it as a hacker's prank, he meant to close it. But just as he hovered over the mouse, an inexplicable thrill stopped him.

"Do you want to understand the meaning of life? Do you truly want to... live?" The words resonated within him, tugging at something deep inside. Confused, he clicked "YES," and in an instant, everything faded to black.

He awoke with a start, leaping up in panic, disoriented as the office blurred with his current reality. A few moments later, he regained his composure.

"Good, you are the most decent one among the newcomers," came a cold voice. Ye Wudao turned to see a young man with black hair, around twenty-four or twenty-five, his face marred by deep scars that lent him a menacing appearance.

The young man held a cigarette, inhaling deeply, his gaze drifting over Ye Wudao to the five others lying nearby—three men and two women. Beyond them, he noticed a dozen foreign individuals in the cramped space. They were inside a fast-moving train carriage, the chill and vibrations confirming they were in transit.

"Where is this place? Who are you? Why am I here?" Ye Wudao bombarded them with questions, switching to English due to the presence of foreigners. The others ignored him, except for the black-haired youth, who took a deep breath and said, "Think carefully; it should have implanted everything in your mind."

Think carefully? Ye Wudao struggled to remember. All he recalled was clicking "YES" when the message appeared, then everything went dark. Suddenly, fragments of thoughts surfaced—survival and life...

This was a game, its origin unimportant—perhaps gods, demons, aliens, or future humans. Regardless, he was now a participant, thrust into various horror film scenarios for choosing to escape the drudgery of urban life.

"This is Resident Evil 1. Lucky for you newbies; you've landed in a relatively easy horror movie. If you die, at least it should be a swift death," the black-haired youth smirked, crushing his cigarette in his palm.

"Are you saying we're just consciousness in a computer, like some fantasy novel? If we succeed, will our consciousness return to our bodies, and we'll live again?" asked a chubby guy on the ground.

The youth pulled out a Desert Eagle handgun, adjusting it as he spoke, "I don't know about consciousness, but you will feel pain, get hurt, and die. And you're mistaken—after this game, you'll enter another unknown horror film. The 'Main God' always brings in new members to replace those who die, usually between seven to twenty at a time. This Resident Evil is relatively safe, which is why we only have seven here."

The chubby guy scoffed, "How do you know the dead ones aren't back in their bodies? Maybe they chose death themselves."

The black-haired youth's eyes flashed with menace. He lunged, pinning the chubby guy down, the Desert Eagle pressed against his mouth.

"Do you want to test death? Can you imagine infinite horror? I've been through three horror films, the first being A Nightmare on Elm Street, with fifteen newcomers and two experienced survivors. Do you know the outcome? They all died in their dreams, leaving only me and one other alive. Do you want to feel your flesh being slowly shredded in a horrifying factory? You piece of trash! Do you want to die?"