𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫

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I stumble from the doorstep, still confused about the happening but the simulation doesn't let me digest the previous events before throwing me a new one. What hits me is a wall of death, decomposition, and sickness, almost tossing me backward and making me retrace my steps. Too bad the door behind me is gone. I know this smell. It's all too familiar.

There are dead people as far as the eye can see. I see no end for the twisted, bent figures laying sprawled on top of one another. My uneasiness mounts up tenfold when I make out the sixth door haphazardly placed somewhere in the middle of the path of corpses. I know what's this coming to.

I push my way through the swamp, battling against the flow that is trying to keep me away from my destination. I walk clumsily past the bodies balancing my way, but their eyes follow me. It's only a matter of time before something grabs me - that much predictability I've learned about this god-forsaken simulation. As if I have any other choice.

This is the phobia I knew would come. I'm actually surprised it's not behind the last door - what could be worse than death lurking around every corner, even closer to me now? There's no escaping - it surrounds me everywhere like a fish caught in netting. The death that is keeping an eye on every quiver of mine that would indicate any lack of concentration.

Forty-five seconds.

Out of the blue, one of the corpses sits up, and I jump back in terror. I am met with its little swinish eyes, completely dead. Reeking of stale and rotten flesh, it opens its mouth and delivers a breath of death. The taste of decomposition reaches my nostrils and gets stuck in my throat until I feel I'm breathing in every microbe of this infectious disease. The same that my mother carries and I am, for whatever reason, immune to.

That's why I must unlock the secret behind the seventh door - so I could have money to cure my mother. To have a better, more enjoyable life. This is a small price for all that.

As I fail to react quickly, it pounces on me and gets hold of my face with morbid fingers, pulling me under its diseased corpse that is heavier than it looks

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As I fail to react quickly, it pounces on me and gets hold of my face with morbid fingers, pulling me under its diseased corpse that is heavier than it looks. I scream helplessly, trying to fight back but I'm pressed against a pile of decaying bodies - the stink is so repulsive it affects my respiration and makes me retch. Hands slide over the different parts of my body, nasty nails digging into my skin, burying and pulling me deeper. I thrash furiously, using as much brawn as I can to my advantage, but it can only do so much in a situation like this.

A pack of slick, slimy worms sticks out of its ugly mouth. My stomach does a little flip-flop and I bite back the urge to vomit. The monster above me jiggles up and down as it proceeds to cough its lungs out, thousands of drops of saliva and blood carrying the virus land on my bare skin and burn it like fire in a liquid form. It scorches its way through my shirt, already wetted by my blood and sweat, and leaves me choking on my own cries of pain.

"S-stop," I gasp in a state of agony where everything starts swaying. I'm on my mother's lap again, safe and sound, she's humming me a lullaby while rocking me to sleep. Her strong arms locked around me shape a cage to hide in. I forgot how beautiful she used to be before this cruel world stole it away from her. But why am I recalling this now?

My limbs are weak, being separated from my skeleton with the power of the growing pressure hands around me apply. My joints and bones are cracking like branches when you step on them. Sick. This is so sick. It all happens in so an agonizingly slow way that even my screams diminuendoed halfway up my throat.

I'm going to die. A tear runs down my cheek. This is the first time I truly regret coming to this simulation. This isn't worth it. Not at all. What was even the reason I came here? I can't -

"Don't cry," the monster slurs and leans closer to lick away the salty waterdrop that secretly escapes the corner of my eye. The touch of its tongue combined with the excruciating ordeal invites another unwelcome tear. And another. And another, until the river is unstoppable. It probably savors this moment like that of a feast - at least, some sort of twisted satisfaction dances in the white undertone of its eyes while its tongue travels across my cheeks. "You won't have to kill yourself... I'll make the pain stop."

I want this to stop. I want to die. "Please... K-kill me..."

On cue, it wraps its deformed fingers around my neck, cutting my oxygen flow entirely. Do you know the feeling when red-hot pain blocks all of your senses and brings on all forms of thoughts involving solely the pain itself? And you can't think of anything else? It's just you and the... pain...

I lapse into a stasis, praying for it to end. It will soon be over.

Twenty seconds. My burning lungs are begging me.

Dimash...

What... Leave me alone...

Nineteen seconds.

Dimash! Don't give up!

But I want to die...

Eighteen seconds.

This isn't real! None of this is real!

But it feels so real...

Seventeen seconds.

You need to trust yourself, Dimash! There's no other way... for the sake of your mother, remember?

This isn't real. I repeat this mantra in my head, hearing a silent choir of echoes bouncing off the walls of my skull at the end of each sentence. For this one moment, the pain goes away. The moment I believe that this isn't true. It can't be. This all pushes me finally over the edge.

My fingers curl around the rotten flesh abusing my neck and respond with greater leverage. Forcing air down my raw throat feels like inhaling hellfire. Opening my eyes to my rebirth like that of a phoenix born of ashes and fuming rage. Freeing my limbs as if they were nothing more than replaceable appendages.

I let out the most impressive roar I can muster and driven by a new deal of willpower, I close my hand into a tight fist and bash the monster over the head with all my might. The split-second our skins are in contact, I can feel its skull crack like the shell of an egg. The satisfying sound spurs me on even more.

Between sharp intakes of breath, I completely lose my sense of reality. My head is filled to the brim with irrational desires.

I shout at the top of my lungs and hit it again and again and again. Raw power. Bestial, like an animal, I yield to my primitive instincts and aggression that feed off the sticky dark blood pooling under me.

I violently crush its head until it's a formless mash of flesh at my feet. Beautiful, just like you. Just how it's supposed to be. Ceremoniously, I grab its leg and proceed to tear its limbs apart, one by one. It's surprisingly easy, like the only thing that holds them in place is a piece of skin. Relishing in the satisfying crunch of brittle bones, I feel my life has arrived at its fulfillment.

The red numbers in front of my eyes are running backward, reminding me that I have six seconds before the door closes.

I laugh, tears of relief streaming down my face, and stand up without much of an exertion. My eyes spot the door nearby. It's even closer to me than I remembered. Maybe it has teleported. Maybe this was all I had to do to get past.

If you want to get rid of something, you'll have to become like them.

I crawl over the corpses that have now stopped moving - they just sit there idly - and reach the door just in time. A series of wordless grumbles cascade over me as I land amid a new vortex in this nightmare realm.

I still feel nothing.

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