There's a plate in front of you, a neatly stacked cut of lasagna awaiting consumption. He's staring deep into your eyes, likes he's cracking you open with just a glare, peering inside and reading your thoughts . it makes you sick .
" Eat . " Was all he commanded, his crimson pupils harsh and unforgiving, his glare unwavering. You reluctantly take a bite, focusing on anything besides the unnerving skeleton watching your every action.
You take a second bite, and a third, you begin to stop counting and actually enjoy the meal. Asking for seconds, thirds even. but you suddenly feel sick, your world dizzy and unstable.
You're passing out, the last thing you see being the spiteful smirk on his scarred skull .
➤ YOU DIED . ENDING 1 OUT OF 5 .