Chapter 49: Chapter 49: Devil Is In The Details

It hurts.

None of this is my fault, and the pain is simply unbearable.

I could feel my own skin drying up and flaking away after what felt like hours of burning.

The fire lit up my bones, turning my skeleton into embers.

But the worst thing is, my consciousness just stayed there.

Instead of fading away into the sweet relief of death, my mind remained fully awake even as my physical body turned to grey ash.

Once I was reduced to dust, the nightmare reset.

I came back to the small bedroom from my past.

Gasping hard for air, my small legs scrambled across the carpet.

I ran and hid right at the bottom of the old bed.

My tiny hands touched my face and arms, checking if I was whole.

The burning sensation still lingered deep in my soul, making every nerve twitch with phantom agony.

My physical body was very small now, probably three years old, wearing my old pyjamas.

I closed my eyes tightly, hugging my tiny knees to my chest.

"Chris, where are you?" my mother’s gentle voice started echoing again from the hallway.

I know this is just a cruel illusion.

This is not real at all, just a sick ploy the demon is using to make me submit and break my mind.

But it still hurts to hear her.

Then, I heard the shadow walking across the bedroom floor.

Its loud footsteps made the wood creak.

"Chris..." the voice was totally different now.

It was not my mom anymore, but something hollow.

"Let me in..."

No.

Even if I die a thousand times, I am not letting anything pass through me.

Then, the scenario changed abruptly.

I was lying face-first in total darkness.

My body had only one working hand, and the immediate sensation was suffocation.

I was buried deep inside a tight wooden coffin under the ground.

"Let me out of here," I choked out, inhaling stale dust.

Using my one good hand, my knuckles tapped against the hardwood right above my face.

I made as much noise as I could, hoping someone was digging.

But no one listened.

The air started to shrink rapidly, making my vision blur with dark spots.

My breathing became ragged and tight, burning my throat with every tiny inhale.

’Help,’ my inner voice pleaded into the void.

This slow death felt much longer than the burning.

I was just surviving on feeble pockets of air, which only stretched out the panic and made the physical pain worse.

Then, my vision darkened.

I gasped loudly, finding myself right back below the bed in my childhood room.

Crawling out from under the frame quickly, my tiny lungs shouted at the empty walls.

"What do you want from me?" I screamed, tears forming in my eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

I looked up at the ceiling, desperately hoping for a blue screen.

"System, come out right now. Help me."

Nobody replied to my begging.

Then, the tall shadow appeared in the corner again.

"Let me in..." it whispered.

Turning towards its side, my small feet rushed forward.

I used my tiny hands to hit its formless legs with all my might.

"Get out of my mind!" I yelled, striking it over and over.

The scene shifted once again.

I was strapped down tight to a metal table, unable to move my neck or limbs.

Bright, blinding lights shone down from the ceiling.

One of the robed cultists walked slowly towards me, holding a rusted chainsaw.

The engine roared to life, spitting out black smoke into the sterile room.

"Subject 011 is responsive," the man stated in a dull tone.

He lowered the spinning blades and sliced right through my legs first as blood splashed all over the room.

"GAHHHHHHHHHHH," I shrieked, thrashing against the leather straps.

After cutting, he stepped back and let the bleeding continue for what felt like a full hour.

"Subject 011 is responding with a mutated leg," he noted on a clipboard.

He restarted the loud engine and started slicing my arms, separating me part by part.

He cut through bone and muscle without using any sedatives.

This made me feel a level of agony I never even knew existed.

Soon, only my head remained attached to my ruined torso.

I can’t even scream anymore.

"Subject 011 is still responsive."

He brought the chainsaw right down onto my face, as it sliced my throat.

My tiny body shook hard as I landed roughly back on the carpet of my bedroom.

The pain was too much for a child’s brain to handle.

Tears automatically flowed from my eyes, streaming down my chubby cheeks.

"Chris, where are you?" My mom’s voice could be heard clearly from the outside hallway.

Running to the locked door, my small fists hit the door hard.

I knocked multiple times, leaving bloody smudges on the white paint.

The doorknob was too high to reach.

"Mom! Help me! I am so scared," I sobbed, my voice breaking into a pathetic wail.

The shadow formed right behind me again, leaning its faceless head down.

"Let me in, Chris," it asked one more time.

Meanwhile, outside the cave, Zephyr was still trapped in his own haunting trance.

He stood frozen near the ruined huts.

But someone else walked casually inside the village square.

She approached the open hole and jumped straight down into the cave.

Walking right through the dense crowd of wailing souls, the ghostly hands reached out to touch her.

The touch was not affecting her at all as magic just slid off her skin like water.

Anasthesia stopped her chanting.

Her wrinkled face crumbled in shock upon seeing the new arrival.

The old cult leader immediately dropped to her knees on the floor, pressing her forehead down to show her absolute respect and submission.

Melissa ignored the kneeling old woman.

She walked up to the floating wooden chair.

Looking directly at Shane’s bleeding, twitching body, a playful expression danced across her pretty face.

"Please break quickly, my love," Melissa whispered.