Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 128: Grief

The silence inside the room stretched longer than Jason expected. The torch on the wall burned low now, casting long shadows that danced like restless ghosts across the cracked stone. Jason sat with his back against the wall, legs folded, his fingers curled tightly around the small arrow he’d tucked into his sleeve earlier. Its sharp tip rested against his wrist.

He glanced at it again, for what must have been the tenth time in the past few minutes.

It would’ve been easy.

Quick.

One clean jab in the right spot, and Gorr would be gone. No more questions. And Jason would live—maybe. Maybe the door would open. Maybe the thing would be satisfied.

But then what?

He stared at Gorr, who sat across from him on the floor, legs outstretched, his eyes were closed, head tilted back against the stone wall. But Jason knew he wasn’t asleep. No one could sleep now.

He looked like a boulder resting after a long fall—scarred, dented, but still somehow whole.

Jason’s jaw tightened.

He remembered the way Liam had saved Eleanor from the priest. The way he held the crew together even when everything crumbled.

Liam would never kill a friend to save himself.

Even if the walls were closing in.

Even if the shadows whispered promises of survival.

Jason swallowed hard and looked away from Gorr. His heart thudded dully in his chest, guilt weighing heavy on his ribs.

He couldn’t do it.

Not because he was afraid of killing—he’d done worse things. But because this... this felt wrong in a way nothing else ever had.

"I’m not going to kill you," Jason muttered, mostly to himself, but loud enough that it echoed faintly.

Gorr’s eyes opened. His gaze slid to Jason, calm and unreadable.

Jason exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I thought about it," he admitted. "I really did. Figured if I offed you, maybe it’d open the door. Maybe that thing would let me go."

Gorr didn’t speak.

Jason went on. "But Liam wouldn’t do that. Not in a thousand years. And you know what? I’m not gonna either. Not this time."

The silence stretched again, heavier now but strangely cleaner, like the tension had lost its venom.

Jason tossed the arrow aside. It clinked against the stone and spun once before coming to a stop near the wall.

Gorr finally spoke.

"You done talking to yourself?"

Jason huffed out something between a breath and a laugh. "Yeah. I guess I am."

Gorr leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Next time that spirit shows up... we fight it. Together."

Jason looked at him, and for once, he didn’t feel the need to mask everything with sarcasm or detachment.

"Yeah," he said. "Together."

Jason barely had time to breathe.

One second, the silence in the chamber hung like a thin veil between life and death. The next, it was torn clean apart.

The shadows along the cold walls stirred. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

The air itself changed.

Then she appeared.

Jason froze, his blood turning to ice. Gorr shifted beside him, and both men stared as she stepped forward, barefoot on the stone, eyes glowing pale and dead. Her features were unmistakable—Sophia’s face, Sophia’s lips—but twisted. Wrong. Possessed. Her mouth curled into a crooked, mocking smile. The bow floated behind her, twitching as if eager to kill. Her once vibrant skin now looked pallid and cold.

Jason’s throat dried up. "Sophia...?"

She tilted her head slightly, like a doll with a broken neck. Then the smile faded into a look of pure disdain.

"I see both of you are still alive," she said, her voice layered—Sophia’s beneath, but distorted, overrun with something cruel. "How irritating."

Jason barely opened his mouth before she vanished.

Gone.

Then—snap—she reappeared right beside Gorr. No flash. No warning. Just there.

Gorr had only a split second to turn his head.

Her hand moved like lightning. A clawed slash carved through the side of his neck, deep and clean. The sound was hideous—wet and final.

Gorr’s body jerked as the blood sprayed out violently. He clutched at his throat, his eyes going wide with a mixture of pain and rage and horror.

Jason stared. Frozen. Powerless. His ears rang with the sick squelch of blood hitting the floor.

Sophia—no, the thing—turned slowly back to him, her hand dripping red.

"Don’t worry," it said, voice like ice cracking in winter. "I’ll be back for you."

Then—just like that—it disappeared.

Jason dropped to his knees beside Gorr. Panic clawed its way into his chest. "No, no—shit—Gorr—hang on, come on—stay with me, dammit—"

Gorr was gasping, hand pressed desperately to the wound, but it wasn’t stopping. The blood was gushing. Jason yanked his belt off and pressed it into Gorr’s neck with both hands, trying to stanch the bleeding.

It was useless.

The red kept pouring.

Jason’s hands were slick, the fabric soaked through instantly. Gorr leaned back against the wall, breathing hard, his jaw clenched, blood coating his armor, dripping down his chest in rivers.

Gorr’s hand reached up, weakly gripping Jason’s forearm. His lips parted, tried to speak, but only a wet, choking sound came out. He gritted his teeth, eyes full of fury—but even fury couldn’t hold off the cold.

His grip started to loosen.

Jason looked around wildly, like help might just fall from the ceiling.

"Someone... someone help—" he whispered, even though he knew there was no one. Just him. Just Gorr.

He pressed harder on the wound, but Gorr was slipping. The blood loss was too fast. Too much. His breaths were shorter now. His eyes started to roll.

Jason shook him. "Don’t you fucking dare—"

But Gorr’s hand dropped away from Jason’s wrist, limp.

Jason sat frozen for a moment. Just staring. His hands trembling, soaked in his friend’s blood. The room was silent again—but this time it wasn’t peace.

It was grief.

And rage.

Jason’s eyes burned as he sat beside Gorr’s body, jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. The only sound was the distant dripping of blood onto cold stone, and the faint creak of the torch above flickering in the stale air.