❝the suicide of your friend was not a suicide. it was an escape attempt.❞
⤷in which the lives of ten boys become nothing more than games and something is hiding among them.
[a pentagon au]
{completed}
(#153 in horror 1/13/18)
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Shinwon wasn't dead. He felt like a skeleton with pain for bones, but he wasn't dead. He could barely see; his vision was washed red.
"Somebody help me..." He whimpered, hysterical, knowing that he was absolutely alone and he was going to die slowly, painfully, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was alone.
Or was he?
He heard the indistinct rushing whisper, caressing his ears like a breeze, and he sobbed. It was going to talk, he knew, and he didn't want it to. He became aware that the attention of whatever thing the whisper belonged to was focused on him - all of its attention.
"Just let me die," he begged, words turning to unintelligible gibberish.
"But where's the fun in that?" The voice hissed. "Let me do you a favor..."
And a feeling like seeping sickness came over him, invading him; he felt all wrong and violated and the only thing that kept him sure he was still in his own body was the fiery pain in place of his feet.
Something had possessed him; he knew this was the same something that had possessed Yanan and he knew that something as simple as death would not grant him reprieve from this horrible nightmare of a reality.
He was beyond being saved. He knew this before he was plunged into darkness and before his limbs started moving on their own; his arms lifted and his hands dug into the earth free of his own control, and he was being pulled along by the thing inside his head and he had absolutely no control over it. He didn't know where he was going to end up and that terrified him; his whole body shaking.
"Oh yes, our game is becoming more fun, now, isn't it?" The voice hissed in his head, and started saying awful things that made Shinwon's stomach heave, sweat beading at his temples and sliding down his back. It spoke about the things it was going to make Shinwon do, and Shinwon hoped he would die more than he had hoped for anything in his entire life. He hoped he would die because he was going to be stuck here, in these woods, under the control of something horrible for God knew how long and the thought of not knowing when it would stop, if it would stop, drove him nearly mad.
The thing - the demon, Satan himself maybe - pulled Shinwon on, relentless. Shinwon thought it would never stop. He'd get dragged around like a doll by this demon until his heart beat so fast from fear that it exploded.
Then he heard a sound like a huge thing crashing through the woods nearby. Heavy breathing, grunting, thuds, and crying.
He didn't notice the other presence, frozen in the shadows.
"You have one task," the voice said in Shinwon's mind, "kill him." And the voice was so insistent, so loud, that the last remains of Shinwon's sanity shattered. The demon released him and his sight flew back and his pain flew back with it; he opened his eyes to Yanan, curled on the ground, sobbing, clothes tattered and skin scratched. The grooves in his cheeks looked freshly re-opened, blood coursing down his skin. He had punctured one of his eyes, and pus and white matter oozed down his face.
