Why Do I Do This To Myself - Blog Posts

mfw when people don't follow the boundaries i never set

Me: oh it’s trans visibility day today. nice

Also me a few hours later: *orders under my deadname at Starbucks*

I always like how funny Paul can be in music videos even when he is trying to be serious but not all the time……this man is goofy ah.

Paul McCartney in “COMING UP” (1980)

• i’m literally going to die •

Legend would probably listen to Mitski and that thought makes me sad. He would totally listen to I Bet On Loosing Dogs *cries*

It’s 2:30 in the morning

I have a few characters in mind.

I love lots of good, heartbreaking, absolutely traumatising angst with a smol fluff scene at the end. LOTS of angst, mind you. But major character death? :,) WHYYY

ARABIC LANGUAGE

Is it weird that i can read Arabic language but not understand it? I so damn wanna learn a proper Arabic language so can i speak it fluently? Help me find resources to do so?

why do i have to feel if all i've felt is hurt.

- i'm stuck in a mess that i made for myself

Update : Did the bare frkn minimum I had to for tomorrow. This weekend was a complete mess—so much unproductivity and procrastination. Studied some math but didn’t finish it, but it's fine so I’ll just go through it tomorrow. My brain was not functioning today. bich was so slow

Also, turns out my chem test is tomorrow, and I haven’t touched it in two days. Still have a few topics left I've to touch, so planning on waking up early to study. If I don’t go through the numericals, I’m DONE for. I seriously do not plan on messing up on ANY of my tests this year bc I was lazy. I'd rather die. Just finished my eng hw, some notes and my chem worksheet and it’s already 1:30 am. I legit started at 11-12 ish ugh Planning to wake up at 4:30 am (fingers crossed.)

But on the bright-ish side I did do all the imp stuff and clean my room so I'm already feeling better. Gt work on my procrastination and laziness i cuz I'd be damned if I do the same shit this year.

Also, I'm kinda craving coffee—haven’t had it in over a month. No clue if it actually helps me stay awake, but I absolutely love the taste.

Toodles ~~

(and have a good day/night !!)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)💗

WEEKEND TO DO LIST (march 20 to 22)

Bio - record work

Bio - complete diagrams

Bio - study rifp

Bio - complete notes (coaching)

Chem - study chemical kinetics

Chem - ws

Chem - lec 5,6,7 fml

Chem - NOTESSSS

Phy - study electric charges & fields

Math - study matrices

These are the stuff I HAVE to do. And if I have time I have to start doing questions and covering 11th backlogs cuz I haven't started YET 😭

Part of Inktober: Queen! Numeaux D'archaere.

Welt slowly approached the mirror before him, bringing his hand up to place it against the glass. Tears slowly slide down his face.

“This….this isn’t me.” Welt whispers his voice cracking. He turns to face Himeko “The me that you know….it’s a lie.”

“Welt what…..what do you mean?” Himeko asks

“Don’t call me Welt. That’s not my name. My name is Joachim. I’m not a human, I’m a herrscher. A god like figure.” Welt says “I’m from another universe.”

“Is this some sick joke?” Himeko asks “Please tell me your joking.”

Welt lets out a shaky scoff

“I wish it was a cruel joke. Maybe it is, a cruel joke on me.” Welt says “Im scared to act like myself around others, so I mimic my father’s personality. Im not calm, im not knowledgeable, im not humble, and im sure as hell not trustable.”

“Welt- Joachim.” Himeko says “it’s fine, it’s just some petty lies. Your still the same person we know and love.”

“Im really not Himeko.” Welt says, more tears spilling down his face “Im a horrible person. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Because I don’t want to believe it.” Himeko says

“Your so foolish. So easy to manipulate. God how you remind me of myself.” Welt says

"A Toast To Emily, Always The Bridesmaid Never The Bride"

In Other Words

"Let James go, don't you think he has enough suffering regulus! Lily is right for him, how could you have ever thought you'll be the one with his heart"

I just made the realisation that jegulus' initials are R and J 😭😭

Romeo and Juliet forever destined all soulmates with the initials R and J to be a great big, tragedy.

My friend, after I showed them a fanfiction deeply rooted into my soul: I just cried so hard I threw up and you’re telling me you read this for enjoyment?

Me: I read fics like “A wolf’s heart by mizdiz” for breakfast and the entirety of “Kill your darlings by Messermoon” as a bedtime story, wimp.

(I say as tears run down my cheeks and I curl into a bawl in centre of the pit of darkness I call a bedroom)

How can you not expect me to get attached when the first thing you said to me was, 'oh you've read that book?'

I feel so fuckin stupid right now—

So, my sister whispered for me to something before I went to bed (she had to whisper it because my niece was sleeping) then she asked if I heard her and I nodded except I in fact didn't not hear her and my head hurts from me trying to understand what she told me to do, please help

just watched the last episode of Merlin so now I'm rereading No Matter How Far Away You Roam by lady_ragnell to hopefully feel okay again. I love holiday traditions

Why? Why do i do this to myself?

Ooooookay.

So this is partially the blog post I promised to my awesome mysterious tumblr mutual @lostclouds-world and partially an autism issue rant. If you don’t want to deal with that kind of stuff go ahead and skip this one.

So my friend that I’ve caught feelings for, has also told me numerous times that if I ever needed to talk that she’d listen. Well, of course I took that at face value, and because of how crappy this week has been mentally and lots of things bothering me, I finally caved and just poured it all out, including how I feel. It felt great to get everything off my chest, but I almost immediately felt like I had made some sort of mistake. It was so unfair of me to just put that all out there, even though I’d been told if I needed to I could.

Well it took almost all day for her to respond, and it turns out I was flipping right. I had once again apparently overstepped, and overshared. I had no shot to begin with, and now I’m not even sure I’ve got a friend because I was having a mini-crisis and turned to someone who had consistently told me that I could go to them if I needed to get stuff off my chest. So that’s that part. Now for the rant.

So why the flip do I even trust anyone when they say they’ll be there for me anymore? That every time someone says that if I need to talk, that they’ll listen? Pretty much every time I trust that, it turns out to be a lie. And why the flip do they try to assume that I want them to fix it?? Like if I’m talking to someone about something I don’t want them to fix it, I just want them to listen. I’m capable of dealing with crap myself, but talking it out helps. I swear sometimes I really hate being autistic because I can’t ever seem to be able to understand what people actually mean. And more importantly, why the flip do neurotypical people say things they don’t mean?? Like just say exactly what you mean, not what you think you should say. I’d have a lot more respect for people if that was how it worked.

But it’s not how it works, and so I’m stuck in a seemingly endless loop of trusting people only to be told that they’re not my therapist. Like you bitch of course you’re not my therapist. You’re my flipping friend, and YOU TOLD ME I COULD TRUST YOU IF I NEEDED TO TALK. But when I actually need to talk, it’s always either “I’m not equipped to handle this” or some variation of “I’m not your therapist”. Like cool, I wish I would’ve known you didn’t actually intend to just listen and let me rant BEFORE I came to you to rant.

And you know what, maybe it is just my fault for ranting to them in the first place. Yet when I talked to my therapist about wanting friends who will listen and be there for me while not trying to fix my problems for me, I was told BY MY THERAPIST that I needed to find friends who would do that. And how the flip am I supposed to do that without trusting my friends? I swear that I’m going to lose my mind if even one more person that tells me I can talk to them when I need to about whatever I’m going through only to turn around and act like I’m overstepping a boundary. People can really frigging suck without being a horrible person.

Like I’ve had a lot of good friends who are usually good people that I trusted only to then essentially lose them because I talk to them about whatever I’m going through, good or bad. So I’m questioning why the flip I even try to trust people anymore. Maybe it’s because I like trusting people to be good people, or maybe it’s because I can’t seem to not take people’s words at face value. Either way, it’s just another way my autism is alienating me from those close to me. And I can’t help but feel like it’s all my fault somehow because I just trust people’s word and take them at face value. I wish I wasn’t like this and that I could just be normal and not struggle with this stupid part of living. I swear eventually the only people I will ever interact with is random people on the internet. Anyway, rant over. Thanks for coming, I’ll see y’all whenever. Hope y’all are doing better than I am

this happen 2 me last night and tbh i spent 2 much time on this

btw do you like this version w/ my user all over the image or

just my user on it once, idk, i like the first better because the colour and it'll be harder to steal

also 4 any1 wondering what these little yellow guys are called "caritas amarillas" on pinterest you'll be able 2 find all the images in this one on there

anyways thanks for reading

Rant about aesthetics ig

ok pls tell me i'm not the only one who love aesthetics that are either a: pretty much any aesthetic that's like:

like how do i explain this? it's like a bad message + ★·.·´¯`·.·★ 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 ★·.·´¯`·.·★ like:

idk how to explain this just. look at this. it's weirdly pleasing to look at, b: Gissy, pommi or the old green bathroom in ur dreams, okay so if you don't know what i mean by "gissy" or "pommi", gissy=GIS=girl interrupted syndrome so any aesthetic like

pommi is any aesthetic w/ pomegranates and using cannibalism as a metaphor for love, like if ur one pinterest like me you've prolly seen quotes like "i would've bled out if you told me you liked the colour red" or "i would've grown flowers in my lungs if you told me you like daisies" y'know like this:

i know, it's weird, but it's cool

anyways the last one kinda explains itself, like y'know that weird fever dream-ish aesthetic where it's kinda like:

y'know those dreams you have that are kinda like lucid dreams where you're aware this is a dream but can't wake up (or don't want to) they kinda look like those images above and it has it's normal dream elements like things being in places they don't belong or one second ur in ur bedroom the next ur at a beach, things of that nature

those dreams that feel so incredibility real but when you wake up you can hardly remember anything, normally just key moments or one moments and it's details, a example of this could be like a dream i recently had where i don't remember much but in order this is what i could scoundrel together

1: this weird moment where i'm in my school hallway and i'm running from something and the whole thing looks exactly like my school except this dead-end where there's this mid-size gap in the roof that's goes up into complete darkness and i (somehow because that goddamn hallway is like 10ft wide) get up into the gap and climb for like a minutes before i just fall up like (spoilers if ur just getting into stranger things) the upsidedown in stranger things where one characters finds this black hole in the ground (not a literal blackhole like a hole with black gunk around it) and the character goes in and falls into this other version of where they found this hole, anyways kinda like that but i fall into *smug laugh* my house

2: idk when tf this happened in the dream but i'm stuck in this gas station bathroom, like greenish lighting, slurs are written on the walls, the toilet itself looks like if you touched it you'd contract 7 different new viruses, y'know, a gas station bathroom, and i KNOW this shit was a dream because my dumbass was just calmly sitting there like i'm not trapped in one of the nastiest places in the northern hemisphere, also rap was just blasting one the radio, it sound like some teenagers came in the gas station w/ one of those hand-held speakers turned to full volume on 103.7 kiss FM (some1 plsss help me because i can't get the ♪one 'o three point seven *insert music here* kiss FM♪ beat outta my head it's burned into my mind helpppppp)

3: i was in a classroom (my 7th grade one even tho im in 8th) and my teacher turned on the news to the political debate and what showed up was a video of joe bidan questioning the country and it's root, how "great" america is and said ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ before a shit ton of post-it-notes started crashing through own windows, like a tornado of pink, yellow and green post-it-notes (individually not the pack).

anyways, dreams where you can only remember a few details and thats it

and finally c: hear me out, 2014 tumblr, now im like 95% sure that the moment ya'll read "hear me out" you thought i was gonna say something dirty, well ur not entirely wrong about thinking that >:), like any aesthetic that came about or rose in popularity during 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓽 y'know the "it's 2014, ur 6 y/o again and a happy tree friends video caught your eye the age of the internet full of cat videos and shitty adult parodies of beloved kids shows/movies, when you were like 8 and found a creepypasta iceberg video and had a shot full of dopamine shoot through you prepubescence body, ur 7 y/o again with way too much freedom on the internet and you find a lil niche site call bestgore.com", ok but on a real note i know the shit i saw in the era probably warrants therapy but i 'd take runthegauntlet.org & racist mario (if ykyk) anyday over skibidi toilet or fvcking max design pro, anyways aesthetics like emo, scene/scenecore, furries, etc, i find cool, now this may just be the desperate little 6 y/o in me clinging onto anything that looks remotely similar to what i grew up on talking, but things like bronies and ___ meets ___ series never fail to give me a weird sense of fucked up nostalgia, ok yea that's definitely the traumatized 6 y/o in me talking for sure but still they look cool, also i am LIVING for the resurgence in early 2000s/2010s style of animation it is BEAUTIFUL even if it looks kinda shitty

anyways thanks for reading my rant

Why god why

Sorry to anyone who's finding out via this meme.

Me scrambling to make this meme like Im riding in via horseback to warn my town about an invasion

Y/n- Toby I think I-

Toby- You don’t do that very well.

Being a teenage girl is randomly studying for your finals while listening to old animation memes in your ear while you daydream about writing fanfics with your old creepypasta crushes.

weeding out dumb sh*t my 12 y/o self thought appropriate to post on - a publicly accessible place - the internet and i keep thinking: what was wrong with her?? did she have any idea that YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES!?

i am crying in French p o u r q u o i am I like this

BROTHER IM SOBBING😖😖

𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: the prank, no use of y/n GENRE: ANGST. SONG INSPIRATION: youth by daughter WORD COUNT: 9.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: who's ready to cry?

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

no one truly understood how much his sister's disappearance had shattered him.

they tried to be there for him, to console him in those rare moments when he couldn’t mask the pain that cut him so deeply. 

they wanted to help, but no amount of support could bridge the pain left behind.

but you, you didn’t need to see the cracks to understand how broken he was. 

you were the only one he ever truly let in.

his brokenness became yours. the faraway look in his eyes, the way he’d drift off into silence, the dark circles that painted the story of sleepless nights. it all tore at you. he needed you more than ever, and in truth, you needed him just as much.

you started showing up at his place late at night, no matter the hour. just to hold him. to check on him. to sit beside him when the silence became unbearable.

there were no words that could mend what he had lost, no comfort you could offer to fix the pieces of his shattered heart. and yet, your presence was enough. he never said it out loud, but you saw it in the way his breathing slowed, the way he relaxed when you were near. 

you made it a little easier for him to sleep, to eat, to simply exist.

you’d do anything for him, and you had proven that countless times.

so when he brought up the idea of going back to the lodge a year after his sister’s disappearance, your heart sank. you knew it would be agonising for him, and the thought of reliving those memories made you hesitate. 

but when he asked you to come along, because you hadn’t been able to go the prior year, you couldn’t refuse.

you’d never let him face something like this alone.

you were the first ones to arrive at the lodge, the mountain air crisp as you stepped out of the car and took in the familiar, yet bittersweet surroundings. once you stepped in front of the lodge josh grabbed your bags before you could protest, flashing you a small, tired smile as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“i’ve got these,” he murmured, his eyes flickering with a warmth that hadn’t been there in a long time. then he headed up the stairs, leaving you alone in the spacious but eerily quiet cabin.

you took a moment, inhaling deeply, letting the nostalgia and tension settle in your bones. with a contented sigh, you stretched your arms out and decided to get to work. the place needed a little life breathed back into it. 

you started in the living room, uncovering the dust covered furniture. the old couch creaked as you lifted the heavy cloth, revealing its worn, familiar fabric. you busied yourself with small tasks: arranging the cushions, stacking wood, and kindling the fireplace until the room started to glow with a warm, flickering light. 

it felt good, in a way. a distraction, a chance to bring some comfort back into this space that had held so much grief.

but after a while, you realised you hadn’t seen josh. it wasn’t like him to disappear without a word, so you set down the last piece of kindling and wiped your hands on your jeans, calling out as you made your way to the bedroom.

“baby?” you called, peeking inside. the room was empty, the bags still packed, and there was no sign of him in the ensuite bathroom either.

frowning slightly, you turned back and started wandering the halls, your footsteps light on the wooden floors as you searched for him. just as you rounded the corner towards the front door, it flew open with a loud thud.

you jumped, letting out a squeal as your hand flew to your chest. there was josh, grinning looking extremely proud of himself, his laughter filling the cabin.

“oh my god, you scared me!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-annoyed as he stepped closer and pulled you into his arms.

“sorry, sorry!” he chuckled, his voice softer now, brushing a kiss against your temple. “couldn’t resist. you should’ve seen your face.”

you playfully slapped his chest, but the sound of his laughter, genuine and unburdened, was something you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. it melted away any irritation you felt, leaving behind a warmth that spread through your chest.

“you’re terrible,” you muttered, smiling despite yourself.

“yeah, but you love me,” he teased, his smile faltering just a bit as he looked at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. for a moment, the playfulness faded, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable.

“i do,” you whispered, your hand sliding up to rest over his heart. you felt the steady beat beneath your palm, a silent promise that you were here, together, no matter what memories this place held.

josh’s eyes softened, he pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. 

“thank you for coming,” he murmured. “i know it’s not easy. being here.”

you squeezed him tighter. “you don’t have to thank me. i’d follow you anywhere, you know that.”

he nodded, his grip tightening around you before he pulled back, a lighter smile on his face now. “c’mon, let’s finish setting up before the others get here. i want it to feel...normal. at least for a little while.”

it didn’t take long for everyone to show up, the lodge filling with a familiar mix of voices and laughter. the chill from the outside seemed to melt away as your friends settled in, dropping their bags and unwinding in the main room. 

the fire you started was crackling, casting a warm glow over the space. you could feel the tension start to ease, though the air still held an undercurrent of unease.

you made your way over to josh, slipping under his arm. he pulled you closer, his hand rubbing soothing circles against your back. you rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as the others chatted and joked around. for a moment, it almost felt normal.

then the front door swung open with a sharp gust of wind, and in walked emily and matt. emily’s face was set in a familiar look of annoyance, her eyes rolling as she stepped inside. matt followed close behind, his jaw clenched, clearly frustrated. you could sense the tension between them before they even spoke.

“well, look who finally decided to show up,” sam drawled from across the room, leaning against the couch with a smirk. mike's eyes flicked briefly to emily, lingering a moment too long.

emily scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “yeah, well, some of us had to deal with a little drama on the way up here,” she snapped, shooting a glare at matt, who looked like he was biting back a retort.

“drama? what kind of drama?” jessica chimed in, her voice dripping with curiosity and something sharper. she stepped closer to mike, wrapping her arm possessively around his waist. the look she shot emily was a thinly veiled challenge.

“oh, you know, the usual,” emily said with a sarcastic smile. “matt getting all worked up over nothing.”

matt’s face reddened, and he stepped forward. “over nothing? you were practically hanging off mike’s arm, em!”

mike’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the show. “hey, don’t drag me into this, man,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “i can’t help it if people like being around me.”

“oh please,” jessica interjected, rolling her eyes. “it’s not like she hasn’t moved on, right, em? or maybe you just can’t let go of the fact that i’m with him now.”

emily’s eyes narrowed, her voice icy. “oh, trust me, jess, you’re welcome to him. i’ve moved on to bigger and better things.”

“bigger and better?” jessica repeated, her voice rising in pitch. “you think you’re better than me?”

the room went silent, the playful banter tipping quickly into hostility. matt stepped closer, fists clenched at his sides, while mike watched with a smug grin. you felt josh tense beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. he had that look in his eyes, like he was trying to decide whether to step in or let the drama play out.

“alright, alright, everyone, let’s just cool it, okay?” josh finally intervened, stepping between them with a broad, disarming smile. “we’re here to have a good time, remember? no need to fight over ancient history. how about you and jess go to the other cabin that i told you about and you let this go?”

he shot a pointed look at mike and then at matt, his tone light but firm. mike shrugged, backing off with a chuckle, while matt reluctantly stepped away, muttering under his breath. emily and jessica exchanged one last glare before turning away from each other, both visibly annoyed but unwilling to push it further.

the hours drifted by slowly as you lay in bed, your head pounding with the dull throb of an oncoming migraine. you closed your eyes, trying to block out the flickering shadows cast by the firelight, wishing for some rest. 

the lodge had fallen into an almost eerie silence. everyone had split off, doing their own thing, giving the place a stillness that felt almost unnatural.

then you heard it. a loud, frantic banging on a door downstairs, followed by a sound that made your blood run cold.

chris’s voice desperate.

“ash! oh my god, ashley!”

you bolted upright, the pain in your head forgotten as adrenaline coursed through your veins. throwing on your shoes, running out of the room and down the stairs, heart pounding in your chest.

you found chris frantically pushing against the kitchen door.

“hey, chris!” you yelled, grabbing his arm, trying to get his attention. “what’s going on? what happened?”

he turned to you, eyes wide and wild, barely able to get the words out. “it’s ashley,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “something– something took her! we were looking for clues and then... i don’t know, it grabbed her! we’ve got to get her out of there, now!”

the sheer panic in his voice left no room for questions. you nodded, bracing yourself and shoving against the door with him, putting every ounce of strength you had into it. the wood groaned under your combined weight, the hinges straining.

with a sudden, violent crack, the door flew open, and the two of you were thrown forward, hitting the carpet hard. you scrambled to your feet, the room dimly lit and filled with shadows. it was hard to see, but as your eyes adjusted, you spotted her.

ashley was sprawled on the floor, unconscious, her body limp and unmoving.

“oh my god, ashley!” you gasped, rushing to her side. you knelt down, hands shaking as you checked her pulse. relief flooded through you when you felt it. faint, but steady. she was breathing.

you turned back to chris, ready to tell him she was okay, but the words died in your throat as a shadow moved behind him. before you could shout a warning, a masked figure stepped out of the darkness and swung a fist, landing a brutal punch squarely across chris’s face.

“chris!” you screamed as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

instinct took over. you had no time to think, only react. you sprinted to the kitchen, grabbing the first thing you could find, a small knife. it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

you held the knife out in front of you, your hands trembling as you backed towards them, trying to protect her and chris. 

“stay back!” you shouted, your voice cracking with fear. “i swear i’ll use this!”

but before you could make another move, you felt it. a strong arm snaking around your waist, yanking you back against his chest. the sudden pressure of a cloth was pressed over your mouth and nose, the sickly sweet smell of chloroform invading your senses.

you thrashed wildly, kicking and clawing, refusing to go down without a fight. the knife was still in your hand, and you swung it blindly behind you. you felt the blade connect, slicing into flesh, and a distorted scream of pain ripped through the air. the grip on you loosened for a moment, using the last of your strength to try and break free.

but it was too late. the world around you started to blur, the room spinning as your vision darkened. your body went limp as the chloroform took hold, the knife slipping from your fingers.

the last thing you heard before you blacked out was the masked figure’s laboured, angry breathing and the sound of ashley’s soft, uneven breaths, still unconscious on the floor beside you.

that's when everything went dark.

you stirred awake, groaning as the pounding in your head reminded you of the events before you blacked out. 

beside you, chris let out a low grunt, shifting as he groggily sat up. the air was cold and heavy, the lights still off, and nothing around you seemed to have changed.

but as you blinked, clearing the haze from your vision, unease curled in your gut. something was different.

ashley was gone.

“shit,” you muttered, your voice breaking the silence. panic surged through you as you scrambled to your feet. turning to chris, you shook his shoulder, forcing him to focus. “chris. ashley’s gone.”

chris blinked hard, his face paling as realisation dawned. “what? where– what the hell happened?”

you didn’t answer, instead yanking him to his feet. “we’ve got to find her. she can’t be far.”

switching on the flashlight of your phone, you searched your surroundings. the beam caught every shadow, every corner, as you searched for any sign of where she might have gone. 

finally, your light hit something, a purse lying on the ground.

“it’s hers,” you said under your breath, crouching down to pick it up. it wasn’t much, but it was something. you clutched it tightly as you moved around the house toward the front door.

the door creaked as you pushed it open, the cold night air cutting through you. but what you saw next made your stomach twist into knots.

blood.

it smeared the wall outside the door in messy streaks, glistening faintly under the pale moonlight.

“holy shit,” chris whispered, his voice shaking as he stepped closer. “is that–?”

you didn’t let him finish. your flashlight followed the trail of blood, which led away from the house, cutting through the snow.

“we have to follow it,” you said, barely able to keep the fear out of your voice.

chris nodded, sticking close to you as you both ventured into the freezing darkness. each step crunched beneath your boots, the sound unnervingly loud against the eerie silence of the night. 

the blood left a faint trail to the shed in the backyard.

it was there that you heard it. a voice, cracked and trembling, carried by the wind.

“chris!”

ashley.

her sobs were unmistakable. exchanging a panicked glance with chris, both of you breaking into a run.

you burst into the shed, your flashlight sweeping over the scene inside. the sight made your blood run cold.

ashley hands tied above her to a wooden board, tears streaming down her face as she struggled against the ropes holding her in place. 

she wasn’t alone.

beside her was josh, also bound, his wide eyes locking onto you the moment you entered.

“oh my god,” you breathed.

“help me! please, help!” his voice cracked.

ashley was sobbing harder now, her pleas barely coherent as she begged for you and chris to save them.

their cries grew louder, filling the small shed with tension, until they didn’t.

the sound of a voice, deep and distorted, crackled through hidden speakers, silencing them both.

“hello, and thank you all for joining me..”

the voice was chillingly calm, it’s tone laced with malice. it was the one you’d heard before you passed out. 

you and chris froze, every muscle in your body tense as the words echoed around you.

your flashlight flickered slightly. josh’s voice cut through the deafening silence, quieter this time, trembling with nothing but anguish.

“please,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and glistening with unshed tears. 

“don’t let whoever it is hurt us.”

before you could respond, the crackling static of the speakers filled the shed once again, followed by the same deep, sinister voice.

“tonight, we’re going to conduct a little experiment.”

“what the fuck is going on?” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

the voice continued, unfazed by the panic rising in the room.

“for this experiment, we’ll need the cooperation of two of our test subjects… joshua and ashley.”

“what?” ashley’s voice broke into a sharp shout, her cries mixed with a choked sob.

josh froze, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his panic evident even as he tried to keep himself from breaking completely.

“oh my god,” you whispered, dread settling deep in your chest.

“but,” the voice drawled, almost casually, “we’re going to need one more brave participant to help decide… which subject will live, and which will die.”

“no,” you gasped, your voice cracking as the weight of the words slammed into you. tears burned in your eyes, now spilling over as you covered your mouth with your hand. “no, no, no!”

ashley’s screams became louder. “this can’t be real! this can’t be happening!”

josh pulled against his restraints again, pleading. “don’t listen to him! please, get us out of here!”

their cries overlapped, filling the room with desperate pleas and frantic sobs. you couldn’t breathe; the room felt like it was closing in, the walls pressing tighter and tighter around you.

chris stood frozen beside you, his face pale, his hands trembling.

“please, please,” the voice interrupted smoothly, it’s calm tone a stark contrast to the chaos you all shared. 

“everyone calm down. it’s all very simple.”

simple?

“you will find a lever placed directly in front of you. all you have to do… is choose who you will save.”

your head snapped toward the lever.

“what the fuck? they can’t be serious!” your sadness morphed into something hot and volatile. rage bubbling beneath your skin as you stormed toward the door between you and them.

“no!” you growled, slamming your hands against the handle. “this isn’t happening! this can’t be happening!”

you pushed, pulled, slammed your shoulder into the door, anything to force it open. the wood creaked under your assault, but it held firm.

the sound of metal grinding against metal filled the air, sharp and shrill. the saw had started.

the noise sent a chill down your spine, you pulled harder on the door handle, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“oh no,” ashley sobbed, her voice rising in pitch. “please, this can’t be happening! this isn’t right!”

the saw’s steady whirring was like a countdown, each second ticking closer to an unthinkable end.

josh’s voice broke through the noise, full of pure terror. “don’t do this! please, you don’t have to do this!”

ashley’s cries grew louder, more frantic. “save me! please, oh my god, i can’t die!”

you could feel your sanity slipping as you turned back to face the room. the lever stood there, mocking you, as if daring you. chris was pacing now, running his hands through his hair, his movements jerky and panicked.

“w-what do we do?” he stammered, his voice cracking as he looked to you for answers you didn’t have.

the saw’s hum grew louder, as the reality of the situation bore down on you. time was running out, and you were trapped in a nightmare with no way out.

the grinding sound of the saw grew louder. your hands trembled as you clutched the door handle, pulling with everything you had, screaming for it to give way.

"come on!" you cried, voice breaking as hot tears streamed down your cheeks. "come on, you son of a bitch, open!"

but it was no use. the door wouldn’t budge.

behind you, the pleas grew more frantic, more agonised. ashley was sobbing uncontrollably, her words tumbling over each other as she begged for her life. josh was screaming now, his voice hoarse and cracking, calling your name, calling chris’s, calling anyone who might listen.

“please!” josh shouted, his eyes wild and terrified as they locked on yours. “you can't let me die!”

your vision blurred as you turned your back to them, the image of josh tied up, eyes red, face swollen burned into your mind. the person who made you laugh when no one else could. the one who saw you when you felt invisible. the one you loved more than anything.

"chris," you sobbed, clutching at his arm. "we can’t do this! we have to find another way!"

but chris wasn’t looking at you. he wasn’t looking at anything but the lever.

he was trembling, his eyes darting between josh and ashley, both of them screaming, both of them begging, their voices a mix of anguish and fear.

"chris!" you yelled, shaking him hard. "don’t! we’ll figure something out! just–just don’t!"

his breathing was shallow, his face pale and wet with tears. “i– i don’t know what to do,” he choked out, his voice broken. “i can’t–, i can’t–”

but even as he said it, his hand was moving. slowly, shakily, he reached for the lever.

"no!" you screamed, lunging for him, grabbing at his arm. "chris, don’t!"

it was too late.

with a guttural cry, chris yanked the lever.

time slowed to a crawl, the world around you dissolving into a haze of sound and motion. the saw roared to life, screaming as it moved toward it’s victim.

“no!” you shrieked, your voice tore through the air as you clung helplessly on the gated wall for josh.

his wide, terrified eyes met yours, full of pain and betrayal. “no, no, no! please!” he screamed, struggling against the restraints with everything he had.

and then the saw reached him.

the sound was sickening, the kind that burrowed into your ears and stayed there, haunting. blood sprayed across the room, splattering the walls, the floor, and even you as you stood frozen, paralyzed by the horror before you.

josh’s screams cut off abruptly, his body going limp as the saw finished it's grim work.

the room fell deathly silent, except for the faint hum of the machinery winding down.

the door clicked, the lock releasing with an almost casual sound. it swung open.

chris stumbled forward, rushing to ashley’s side. she was sobbing uncontrollably as he worked to untie her. “it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “you’re okay. i’ve got you. don’t look.”

but you didn’t move.

you couldn’t.

your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with silent sobs. 

josh. your josh, was gone. the one person who mattered most to you, the only source of true comfort that you had, was gone.

your eyes stayed fixed on the blood-soaked floor, on the mangled remains of the person you loved.

he was gone.

cut in half.

gone.

you hugged yourself tightly, rocking back and forth as grief consumed you, an unbearable weight that left you hollow and broken.

chris turned to you, his face pale and etched with guilt. he opened his mouth, but whatever words he tried to speak were drowned out by the sound of your own sobs, tearing through into the cold, unforgiving night. 

it echoed around you, a resonance that mocked the void where he used to be.

you could still hear him, josh's voice screaming for you in those final moments. still feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear when you used to lie close to him. it was nothing but a ghost now. a cruel reminder of what was gone. he wasn’t there anymore. he would never be there again.

your thoughts spiralled. chris. it was all chris's fault. he had made the choice. not josh. chris. he chose ashley. he chose her over him. his crush over his childhood best friend, your love, your person. the realisation hit.

before you knew it, you were moving, your grief boiling over into something darker. you snapped to your feet, crossing the space between you and chris in an instant. your trembling hands hit his chest, his shoulders. whatever you could reach, your fists weak but desperate.

“why?” you choked out, your voice breaking as you struck him again. and again. “why? we could’ve found another way! how could you do this? how could you do this to me?”

chris didn’t stop you. he stood there, letting you vent your anguish, his own tears carving silent trails down his face. he didn’t try to defend himself, didn’t make excuses. ashley stood nearby, distraught and useless, her sobs muffled behind her hands as she watched the scene unfold.

your blows slowed, turning into open palms pressed against him, you collapsed against his chest. the grief overtook you, the strength to hold it all inside shattered. you cried into him, the rawness of your pain spilling out in broken gasps and incoherent words.

for a moment, chris tried to hold you. his arms moved hesitantly, afraid to make things worse. but the second you felt him, your anger surged again, and you ripped yourself away. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, your voice shaking. you stumbled back, wiping at your face, dragging air into your lungs that felt too thin.

you couldn’t stay here. not in this place. not with these people who used to be your friends. you turned away from them and staggered outside into the night. the cold air bit into your skin, but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered anymore. not without him.

the lodge loomed behind you like a reminder of everything you’d once loved. 

deep down, you knew it didn’t matter who had been chosen. losing either of them would have been devastating, a blow from which you would never truly recover. but that logic was lost in the haze of your grief. it didn’t matter that the decision had been impossible. all you knew, all you could feel, was that chris had made it.

he had chosen not to save josh.

you stumbled a few steps further, every breath was agony. the grief, the disbelief, the rage. it all swirled inside you, drowning you in it’s weight.

it felt as though someone had reached into your chest and ripped out your heart, leaving you to feel nothing but also everything at the same time. you stared at the distant treetops, the stars blurred by tears, and tried to feel something other than the nothingness threatening to consume you. 

your chest heaved as you bent forward, hands braced on your knees, gasping for air that seemed almost impossible to catch. the night’s chill clawed at your skin, but it did nothing to numb what burned inside you.

the crunch of footsteps on snow made you look up, your tear blurred vision settling on emily and matt as they approached cautiously. their faces twisted with confusion and fear as they took in the sight of the three of you. shaking, pale, and splattered with blood.

emily was the first to speak, "what happened?" her voice was sharp but laced with unease. matt hovered beside her, his wide eyes darting between you, the blood, and sounds of the sobs that you shared.

you straightened slowly, forcing yourself to meet their stares. your voice trembled as you tried to speak, every word catching in your throat like broken glass.

“it’s josh,” you rasped. “he… he’s gone.”

emily’s lips parted in disbelief, she faltered as she tried to process the words. matt stiffened, his jaw clenching as his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“what do you mean, gone?” emily asked, her voice wobbling. her eyes darted between you and the shed, expecting josh to emerge at any moment, laughing this off as a cruel joke.

you opened your mouth, but the words refused to come. instead, fragments of the moment flashed in your mind. the split second choice, the screams, the sound of your own heart breaking. you winced, flinching at the memory, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“chris… he had to choose,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind. “it was him or ashley.”

the weight of the admission crushed you all over again, and for a moment, the only sound was the muffled sniffling from you and the distant howl of the wind. emily stared at you, her face draining of colour, while matt swore under his breath and looked away.

“that doesn’t make any sense,” emily whispered, her tone brittle. “how could something like that even happen? why–why was there a choice at all?”

her words struck a nerve, but you didn’t have the strength to argue. you couldn’t. the truth of it was unbearable, but it was all you had.

“i didn’t… i didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you choked out, your voice breaking. tears welled up again, blurring your vision. you turned away, clutching your arms tightly, trying to breathe through the pain.

you hear them talking. quietly at first, but the words soon cut through the air. they’re discussing the psycho on the mountain, piecing together what had happened. the conversation ends with emily and matt deciding to head to the fire tower to try and contact someone on the radio, and chris suggests you and ashley go with him to find sam, still hopefully holed up in the lodge.

you say nothing. you just follow them, keeping your distance but staying close enough to hear the whispers. the words between them are too loud for their own good, a mix of fear and regret, constantly circling back to josh.

ashley’s voice cracks as she speaks to him, her apologies tumbling over each other. “i know how close you were to him,” she says, her voice low. “i– i just... i never meant–”

she stops herself. the realisation hits her. she turns to you, eyes wide with guilt, as if suddenly aware of the weight of her words.

her face is full of remorse, her lips parting to offer an apology, but you can already feel the anger bubbling up inside you.

you clench your jaw, your fists tightening at your sides. she doesn’t get it.

“don’t. you don’t get to talk about him,” you bite out, the words sharp. “you don’t get to. not after what happened.”

the air between you is heavy with tension. ashley opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. she knows. she knows there’s no fixing this. you didn’t want her to. how could she?

you charge upstairs, your legs trembling with every step, but the adrenaline doesn’t let you stop. it fuels you, because you can’t stop. not now. not with sam missing. not with everything spiraling further and further out of control. 

you don’t even bother hiding the tears streaming down your face anymore. you just need to find her and get out of this godforsaken place. this needs to end.

you’re done with the fear. you want to go home, to a place where things made sense. you want to feel safe again, slip into your bed where his scent still lingers, and just… cry. to finally feel the pain and let it break you. 

the hallway stretches out before you, quiet and eerie, the air heavy with the silence that feels so much worse than any scream. your breathing is ragged as you throw open door after door. 

"sam!" you call, but there’s no answer. just empty rooms. no sign of her. each door you open makes your stomach twist tighter with dread, like a rope being pulled too taut.

you jog back down stairs, walking to the entrance of a room you haven't checked yet.

the movie room is where it all comes crashing down. her bracelet. you spot it immediately on the floor, lying there as if it’s mocking you. you freeze, staring at it. she never takes it off. never. your heart drops, she was here. and she’s not anymore.

you stumble forward, picking it up with shaking hands. it’s so small in your palm, so simple, but it’s hers. it’s hers, and it’s the only sign of her that you’ve found. and then you see it. the video.

it’s looping on the projector, a grotesque, grainy replay of josh’s death. over and over. the sound of his screams fills the room, echoing in your ears, drowning out your own sobs. chris is already on it, slamming his fist into the projector, but it’s no use. the damn thing won’t stop playing. he kicks it, hard enough to send it skidding across the room, but it keeps playing.

you double over, clutching your stomach as if it’ll stop the nausea rising in your throat. it’s too much. all of it. the weight of what you’ve lost, the guilt, the fear, it’s suffocating. the bracelet in your hand feels like a cruel reminder that sam could be next. or maybe she already is. and what the hell can you do about it?

“we have to keep moving,” chris says. you know he’s right, even if you can’t bring yourself to say it. you wipe your face with the back of your sleeve and force your legs to move, one step at a time, until you’re following him down to the basement.

the air is colder down here, and not just in temperature. it feels… wrong. like something is watching. waiting. ashley’s hand brushes yours at one point, a trembling, silent plea for some kind of comfort, and you squeeze it instinctively. you don’t say anything, though. what is there to say?

then, it appears. the ghost. at first, it’s just a pale blur in the corner of your eye, but then it comes again. clearer this time. the faint outline of a figure, there and then gone before your brain can catch up.

ashley screams, stumbling back into chris, who immediately snaps into denial. “there’s no way–” he starts, but then it happens again, and the words die in his throat.

your pulse is nothing but a hammer in your chest. you can’t even feel your hands anymore; they’re ice, like the rest of you. you scan the room, every dark corner, every shadow, but it’s the dollhouse that pulls your attention. it sits there, perfectly positioned, it’s tiny rooms lit by some unseen source. 

the dolls inside. each one carefully placed, are positioned just like that night. like the prank. like what happened to hannah.

you couldn't even touch it at first. your fingers hover over the tiny furniture, shaking too much to do anything else. you open it and you see her diary.

the pages are worn, the ink smudged in places like she’d cried over it while writing. you skim the entries, your chest tightening with each one. her excitement about mike. her insecurities. the little hopes she’d held onto, even when things were rough. you can see her in the words, hear her voice, and it breaks you all over again.

she trusted you. she trusted all of you. and what happened? she was pushed too far, and now she’s gone. her warmth, her kindness, her life, gone. 

the tears come harder now, but you don’t stop reading. you owe her this.

you don’t realise how long you’ve been standing there until chris nudges your shoulder. “hey,” he says, softly this time. “we… we should go.”

the basement hallway stretches out further than you thought it would, the shadows growing deeper with each step. then you see it. a figure. sam’s clothes, and for one awful, heart stopping moment, you think it’s her. you freeze, the air ripped from your lungs, until chris steps closer and pulls the chair into the light. it’s not her.

relief floods through you, but it’s short lived. she’s still missing, and the nightmare is still far from over. you glance at ashley, whose eyes are wide with panic, and then at chris.

chris looks just as distraught as you, his face pale, his hands trembling as he struggles to stay composed. you want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. that’s when you notice it. a shadow shifts behind him, barely noticeable at first. it moves closer, and your heart leaps into your throat.

your mouth opens to scream, to warn him, but it’s too late. a figure lunges out of the darkness, fist connecting with chris’s face in a brutal, sickening thud. his head snaps to the side, he crumples to the floor, out cold.

“chris!” you gasp, but there’s no time to check if he’s okay. the flashlight he was holding clatters to the floor, spinning wildly before it’s beam settles on the attacker. he turns toward you and ashley, his movements deliberate, methodical.

ashley is quicker than you expect. before you can react, she rushes forward, gripping the scissors. she drives them into his shoulder with a desperate cry, the blade sinking in deep. the attacker stumbles back, a low, pained grunt escaping him, but it’s not enough to stop him.

he moves with startling speed, grabbing ashley by the wrist. she struggles, kicking and thrashing, but his free hand rises, before she can break free, his fist connects with her face in a brutal blow. the impact sends her crumpling to the floor in a heap on the floor, her body still.

“no!” the word tears from your throat. helpless, as the reality sets in. you’re on your own, and your only weapon is still lodged in his shoulder.

you turn to run, your legs screaming at you to move, before you can take more than a step, something sharp pierces your neck. it’s small, almost subtle, but the effect is immediate. your hand flies to the spot, fingers trembling as they brush against the tiny dart embedded in your skin.

a whine escapes your lips as your knees buckle. the world tilts violently, the edges of your vision blurring. panic claws at your chest as you try to stay upright, your body refuses to listen. your legs give out completely, you fall, the ground rushing up to meet you.

before you hit the floor, strong arms catch you, pulling you against a broad chest. you’re too weak to fight, your limbs heavy and useless.

“i’m sorry,” a voice murmurs, low and distorted, the words muffled by the mask obscuring his face. “i’m so sorry.”

you try to focus, to make sense of what’s happening, the world is fading fast. the last thing you see before the darkness takes you is the mask staring back at you, it’s blank, soulless eyes the final image burned into your mind.

you wake slowly, your eyelids feel weighted, your thoughts sluggish and out of sync. something isn’t right. your instincts scream it before your senses can confirm. when your eyes finally flutter open, the world above you sharpens into focus. two massive saw blades hang ominously overhead, their jagged teeth gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights.

it’s the next sensation that sends a chill crawling up your spine, your wrists. they’re bound tightly, the rough rope digging into your skin with every small movement. you yank at them, testing the restraint, but it holds firm, the fibres biting deeper.

panic sparks, your breath becoming faster as you look around, desperate to understand where you are, what’s happening. the room is cold and industrial, its concrete walls bare except for the shadows cast by flickering lights. your gaze snaps to the figure directly in front of you, chris.

he’s slumped in a chair, his head hanging slightly, his face pale and tight with fear. one of his hands is bound to the armrest, but his other arm hangs free. between you, perched cruelly sits a gun.

your chest tightens as you try to move your legs, only to realise they’re tied too. the ropes around your ankles bite just as viciously as the ones on your wrists. you twist and pull, but your body feels sluggish. the injection, that stranger. you’re still under it’s influence, your limbs betraying your desperation to escape.

“chris?” your voice is hoarse, trembling, thick with fear. “what’s going on? where are we?”

he lifts his head slightly, meeting your eyes with a look that chills you to your core. his face is a mix of confusion and terror, his lips parting to speak. “i don’t know.”

your mind reels, memories flooding in, the shed, the others, the horrific choices. 

the weight of what’s coming feels unbearable.

“we’ve gotta get out of here,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the relentless pounding of your heartbeat.

that’s when you hear it. the saws.

the metallic whine cuts through the air as the blades begin to descend, slow but deliberate. the sound, growing louder with each passing second. your head snaps upward, and the sight of the spinning teeth edging closer sends a fresh wave of panic through you.

“no!” you scream, thrashing against the restraints, your wrists burning as the ropes cut deeper into your skin. the effort is frantic, wild, but useless. the ropes don’t budge. you feel like you’re suffocating, the walls of the room closing in.

and then they stop.

the saws are still whirring, still spinning inches above your head, but their descent halts. the silence that follows is almost worse than the noise. 

that’s when you hear it.

that voice again.

“hello there, my special little subjects.”

your stomach twists as the sound crawls over your skin. chris freezes across from you, his head snapping up toward the speakers embedded in the walls.

“aw, shit,” he mutters, his free hand darting for the gun on the table between you. he grips it tightly, holding it up defensively as though the steel in his hands could somehow protect you both from the nightmare unfolding around you.

the voice continues.

“chris has made one fatal choice already today, and now he must make another.”

you and chris lock eyes, the horror in his matching your own. your breaths come faster, you shake your head desperately, trying to deny the inevitable.

the voice pauses, as if savoring the moment, before delivering the final blow.

“chris, you can take the gun in front of you and shoot her, or you can shoot yourself. whoever is left gets to live. the choice is yours.”

your stomach churns, your chest tightening so much it hurts.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, your voice trembling. “no, this can’t–this can’t be real.”

chris’s hand shakes as he lifts the gun, his knuckles white around the handle. his gaze flickers to the saws above you, still spinning mercilessly, then to you, and then back to the gun.

“don’t look at me like that,” he says, his voice barely steady. “there’s gotta be a way out. this… this doesn’t make sense.”

he turns the gun toward the machinery and fires. the deafening crack of the shot echoes in the room, but it does nothing. the saws keep spinning. the gun’s recoil jerks his arm, and he mutters a curse under his breath, lowering it slightly as the futility of the situation sinks in.

“no, no, no,” you mutter, panic clawing at your chest. you thrash against the restraints again, harder this time, your vision blurring with tears.

“chris,” you rasp, your voice breaking. “you have to do it.”

“what?” his head snaps toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“shoot me.” the words come out stronger than you expected, but the tremor in your voice betrays your fear. “you have to. you can’t–” your voice falters, and you swallow hard before continuing. “you can’t kill yourself. you have ashley. you can live. you can make it out of this. i–i can’t.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” chris’s voice rises, desperation thick in every syllable. 

“i’m not doing that! we’ll figure something out– together.”

“there’s nothing to figure out!” you cry, your voice raw. tears spill down your cheeks, but you keep going, words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “chris, i can’t live without josh. don’t you get it? i’m already gone. he was everything to me, and now he’s dead. i don’t have anyone to go back to. but you– you have ashley. she loves you. you can still have a life.”

chris shakes his head violently, his grip on the gun trembling. “no. don’t– don’t say that. don’t you dare say that. you think this is what i want? to kill you? how the hell am i supposed to live with that?”

“by being alive!” you scream, your voice cracking. “chris, please. i can’t– i can’t do this anymore. just end it. end it for me. you don’t deserve to die here. not for me. not like this.”

tears streak his face now, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. the gun in his hand wavers, the barrel swinging between you and himself.

“i can’t,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i can’t do it.”

“you have to,” you plead, your voice softer now, almost broken. “please, chris. you have to make it out of here. you have to live. for ashley. for yourself. for me, don’t let this place take you too.”

the saws above you screech, jolting both of you. the voice returns, colder now, more impatient.

“time is running out, chris. make your decision.”

chris’s face crumples as he stares at you, the weight of the choice pressing down on him. his hand tightens around the gun, shaking harder now.

you hold his gaze, tears streaming down your face. “it’s okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling but resolute. “it’s okay. just do it. i’m ready.”

the gun rises.

the room feels impossibly still, the only sound the relentless whir of the saws above. your chest heaves with shallow breaths as you close your eyes, waiting for the end.

BANG.

the sound reverberates through the room, deafening and final. you jolt, your body stiffening in anticipation of pain, but... nothing. you’re still here. alive. untouched.

your chest heaves as you slowly open your eyes, your breath caught in your throat. chris is staring at you, his face pale and drawn, his expression one of shock and bewilderment. he’s just as confused as you are.

the saws above you screech to a halt, the room plunging into a sudden, eerie silence.

you blink, trying to process what just happened. “chris?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

before he can answer, the overhead lights blaze to life, harsh and unforgiving. the sudden brightness makes you wince, and when your eyes adjust, you see him.

the psycho.

he steps out of the shadows, his mask gleaming under the fluorescent lights. he moves with a slow, deliberate confidence, as though savoring your fear. your heart pounds wildly in your chest, the sight of him terrifying you.

“no,” you stammer, your voice rising in panic. “no, no, no! get away from us!”

chris, snapping out of his stupor, raises the gun without hesitation and fires.

bang!

bang!

bang!

three shots. each one echoes through the room, but the psycho doesn’t even flinch. he doesn’t stumble, doesn’t react. it’s like the bullets didn’t touch him.

“oh, chris...” the voice is mocking now, dripping with condescension. the psycho moves closer, his head tilting as if amused. “oh, chris, chris, chris, chris, chris.”

chris’s grip tightens on the gun, his knuckles white. “what the fuck?!” he shouts, his voice cracking with frustration and fear.

the psycho chuckles, a low, sinister sound that sends chills down your spine. he circles the table slowly.

“you’ve heard of blanks before, haven’t you?” he says, his tone smug and condescending. “i mean, really?”

chris freezes, the gun lowering slightly as the psycho’s words sink in. blanks.

you feel your stomach drop. the tension in the room grows unbearable as the psycho stops beside you, his presence radiating menace. he tilts his head, examining you for a moment before turning his attention back to chris.

“i mean, come on,” he says with a smirk in his voice. “you really thought i’d make it that easy?”

his hands move to the edges of the mask, and your breath catches in your throat. the anticipation is unbearable as he lifts it, slowly revealing his face.

your eyes widen in disbelief, shock and horror flooding through you as the truth clicks into place.

it was him all along.

the sound of the door screeching open echoes through the space, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.

your entire body feels like it’s been hollowed out, like every breath has been violently torn from your lungs. your mouth is open, but no words come out, no sound—just the sharp, jagged edges of disbelief slicing through you.

josh.

josh, your josh. the one you saw ripped in half, his blood pooling across the floor in a scene so horrific it seared itself into your memory. the man you mourned, grieved for so deeply it felt like the world might never make sense again.

and yet here he is, standing before you.

“josh?” mike’s voice cuts through the silence, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself of what he’s seeing.

you can’t think, can’t move. it’s like the pieces of reality are crumbling apart and leaving you suspended in this unbearable moment. how is this possible? how is he alive? and more terrifyingly– why?

a tidal wave of emotions crashes over you. confusion, relief, anger, betrayal. all churning into a storm so violent you don’t even know which way is up anymore. your head drops, the tears come, shaking you to your core. but the sobs are silent, strangled by the sheer weight of it all. 

you cry so hard your entire body trembles, the kind of crying that leaves you gasping for air but never getting enough.

sam rushes over, her hands working to untie the ropes binding your wrists. “it’s okay,” she murmurs, though her voice shakes as much as your hands do. “we’ll figure this out. you’re okay. i’ve got you.”

but even as she says it, you can hear her unspoken doubt. she doesn’t understand what’s happening any more than you do.

and then josh laughs.

it starts low, a chuckle that grows louder, sharper, until it fills the room. the sound is manic, cruel, cutting through your grief.

“oh, very good! every one of you! got my name right!” he says, his voice dripping with mockery, arms flung wide as if he’s addressing an audience. “and after everything you’ve been through– wow!”

your stomach twists painfully as his words sink in, each one laced with something venomous. he paces the room, looking at each of you in turn, his grin widening as he feeds off your reactions.

“good, good, good. i mean, how does that feel?” his eyes flick to you, it feels like the winds been knocked out of you. “huh? do you enjoy feeling terrorized? humiliated? panicked?”

his voice rises with every word, his arms flailing dramatically.

“all those emotions my sisters got to feel one year ago! only guess what? they didn’t get to laugh it off! no, no, no! they’re gone!” he stops, his face twisting into something wild and unhinged.

mike steps forward, his expression dark, his body tense. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed, josh, but none of us are laughing.”

chris then speaks up, there’s a venom in his voice you’ve never heard before. “you want to talk about humiliation? about terror?” he jabs a finger in josh’s direction, his voice rising with every word. 

“do you have any idea what you’ve done to her? to all of us? you died, josh. we thought you were dead! she—” he gestures toward you, his voice cracking. “she begged me to shoot her because of what you did! she wanted to die, josh! because of you!”

josh’s manic energy falters, his expression slipping into something more subdued. his mouth opens like he wants to argue, but nothing comes out.

chris steps closer, his face inches from josh’s now. “you think this is justice for your sisters? you think this is what they’d want? or are you just too wrapped up in your own goddamn head to see the difference?”

josh stares at chris, his lips trembling, his confidence visibly cracking.

but you’re not watching them anymore. you’re staring at the ground, your vision blurred by tears. his voice, his face, his laugh. it’s too much. it’s all too much.

“hey,” josh says softly, steps toward you, his voice lacking the bravado it held moments before. 

“hey, it’s okay. i– it’s me. it’s josh. i’m here now.”

you feel his arms around you, warm and familiar, and for a fleeting second, you almost give in. almost let yourself believe that this is the josh you knew, the josh you loved.

but then reality slams into you like a freight train.

“no!” you cry, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you have left. he stumbles back, his face a mask of shock and hurt.

you take a step back, your chest heaving, your voice trembling with betrayal. “how could you do this to me? to us?”

josh’s hands rise defensively, his eyes wide. “i– i didn’t mean–”

“don’t you dare,” you snap, you point at him. “don’t you dare act like this was some accident. you planned this, josh. you planned it, and you knew what it would do to me!”

your voice shatters into a sob as you turn away from him, collapsing into sam’s arms. she catches you, holding you tightly as you bury your face in her shoulder.

“it’s okay,” she whispers, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. her voice is steady, but the anger in her eyes as she glares at josh is unmistakable. “i’ve got you. it’s okay.”

josh takes a step toward you, his hands reaching out. “please, i–”

sam’s glare sharpens, “don’t. you’ve done enough.”

josh stops, his arms falling to his sides. the room is heavy with silence now, the weight of his betrayal suffocating.

and for the first time, you see it on his face, realisation. guilt. maybe even regret.

but it doesn’t matter. nothing he says or does will undo what’s already been done.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ @antihuntress

© ruewrote 2024.

im utterly torn apart, but in a good way..?

the train of lost souls

↳ fantasy au

◇ pairing: jungkook | reader, hoseok | reader ◇ genre: angst and tiny bits of fluff ◇ word count: 13.610 ◇ warnings: mentions of past death  ◇ author’s note: I promise it’s not tragic, though it might seem like it at first. pls believe in me! :)) on another note, let’s just pretend they are all the same age here, since I planned the story that way~

The moment you step inside the train, you are given two options.

You can choose to live, to be given a second and a last chance in life, in exchange for your memories and your previous existence. You can choose to be alive again, but it can only be an entirely new life. Everyone you’ve ever crossed paths with would forget your name. All the pain and the love you knew, all the ups and downs that made you hurt and made you smile — all of it, completely gone.

Or you can choose to move on, to give your life away while keeping your memories until the end of time. To step out of the world of the living and to embrace a new kind of loneliness, but with the warmth of your past always safe between your cold hands.

You are dead, but it’s up to you to do something about it.

The choice is solely yours.

Keep reading

finally done with the lineart😼 im gonna draw smth else in that blank corner

There is nothing better than walking the dog and managing to come up with a breakthrough for your original fic plot.

Good thing the Godolphin Arabian has a murky origin story...