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Alex Winter
6:35 pm, Sunday, July 9th, 2023
He didn't know why. Even as he watched her hair dance out of sight in the breeze, his gun flew out of his hands to the floor. Before he knew it, he was already jumping over after her. He caught her hand, his right arm grasping the railing.
"Scarlett... what the fuck are you doing? You leave me with that bullshit and then try to take the easy way out?" Alex shouted, gritting his teeth at the weight he held. It felt like his arms were tearing from the exertion in holding them both.
"Oh, so now you care.~ You only ask for me when you need something," Scarlett said, her voice fluctuating. "It's not like I could ever die from something like this... You on the other hand, a total klutz. I give yesterday's landing a -3 on the manliness scale."
Alex choked back a laugh. "You fucking bitch, I'm not doing this for you!" he snapped, pulling her closer. His entire body trembled with exhaustion. "Of course I'm doing this for myself! I need you! You're the only God damn person who knows the truth about this place!"
Scarlett barked out a harsh snicker. "You think I'd still be here if I knew the truth about dear ol' Diaedem? My dear, I've been stuck here for years. Clearly it shows, as I'm quite a refined nutcase if I do say so myself!"
Her legs wiggled, making it harder for him to maintain his grip. Bats flew past them as he planted his feet against the lower wall. "Stop moving, you idiot!"
"Name calling is quite uncalled for, Alex. I do hope you don't kiss your mother with a foul mouth like that," Scarlett said, looking up at him.
"Oh, screw you! Because of your fucking letter, I might never-" Alex stopped himself as his eyes watered. I might never see my mom ever again...
Scarlett pulled on his arm, grasping his shoulders. "S-Scarlett, I can't get my- shit!" his hand slipped from the railing. His heart jolted as their heads knocked together. The fall never came. An icy, cold chill clenched his outstretched hand. Alex looked up to see what had caught them. It was Asmodeus, the cow skull staring at them with a piercing glare.
"How lovely, to think we'd die arm in arm... Do you think our bodies would merge in a tangled mess of passion?" Scarlett asked, resting her head against his. "Would they even be able to tell whose arms are whose? Whose legs? Would our faces merge in a gory passionate kiss, deeper than our skulls could handle?"
Alex frowned. "Is this the kind of shit you think about all day?"
"Only sometimes. Personally I prefer pleasure over pain, but beggars can't be choosers.~"
"Right... Well, if you're the reason I'm here, why are you running?"
"I have errands you silly goose. You don't expect that corpse on the beach to clean itself do you? Thankfully parties don't happen until Friday or I'd have quite a lot of explaining to do..." Scarlett told him, meeting his gaze once more. "I do not have time to explain everything. Even if I did, it wouldn't change anything yet. Assuming things in this town will get you killed, so never get too comfortable. The Undead is not the only threat. You would be wise to avoid investigating at night, my dear Alex."
"Investigating? I don't understand-" Alex said, when Scarlett placed a finger on his mouth. His shoulders grew sore under the pressure of her body weight. It was the few times he was thankful for the Slender Man reject keeping them from falling.
"Hush now, darling. I won't explain this twice, capiche? We know who one of the Undead are, but it isn't as simple as just killing her again. I understand there is a method, but until we find it... Don't get too close to them," Scarlett warned, pulling herself up and kissing his forehead.
Alex grabbed for her. His body was yanked up fast enough for her mere hairs to slip from his grasp. "Scarlett!"
She giggled out of sight, his view flipping upside down as he was tossed back into the lighthouse. "What... What did you-" He ran past Asmodeus and leaned over the railing.
His heart thud as he looked down. A sliver of blonde hair was seen, moving across the dark sands and out of sight. "How the fuck? Could've at least given me a ride down, shit... Hate this stupid place," Alex said, slamming his hand on the wall.
He looked at Asmodeus who only continued to stand as still as a statue. "The fuck are you looking at?" he snapped, moving to pick up his Baretta from the floor. "You're lucky I'm not trying to get arrested or I'd shoot your ugly skull wearing ass right now!"
An angry roar came from Asmodeus as he stomped his foot. Alex flinched, walking away from him. "Alright, you made your point. It's a prank bro, chill," he said, making his way to the stairs.
He stopped at the top, grabbing the doorway. It didn't matter how much he used anger to cover it up.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Cold. The only thing he could feel in the silent despair she'd left him with. Alex didn't move for a few moments. He hardly breathed as he looked back at the moon with Asmodeus standing there. The silence and distorted breathing were the only sounds to comfort how alone he truly felt in that moment.
What was I expecting? A fresh start? Hardy fuckin' harr. God has one hell of a sense of humor... or maybe he has nothing to do with it, Alex thought, gripping the door frame tighter. As he took a step down the stairs, a blood curdling scream echoed. It sounded like he imagined it, yet it also sounded real.
Did I just... No, I must be imagining things, Alex said, continuing downward. Scarlett said to avoid looking around at night. Was that guy still alive or something? Is it because of something other than the Undead?
It was a slow, depressing walk down the spiral staircase. Asmodeus's loud, heavy footsteps trailed behind him. "God damn mother fucker, don't you have some kids to scare-" Alex turned to face him, gritting his teeth. Nothing was there.
Piece of shit fucktard. Why are all the spirits I meet total dicks? What happened to guardian angels and that crap? Did mine take a vacation? I'ma beat the shit out of 'em if I die.
His entire body ached. He had to grasp the wall to keep himself from falling over the edge. One wrong step and he'd be in for a long one way trip to mangled city. Alex chuckled to himself. Imagine that on a tombstone. Fucked myself to death. Wouldn't be the worst way to go, given the state of this amazing town... Well screw it, if there's a chance I might live or die, I might as well fight. Crying about it won't solve anything. Was never my style anyway.
A pained moan from below answered his thoughts. What did I say about crying, you little bitch? Alex covered his mouth. Oh God, maybe I am going crazy. To check, he flashed his phone's light down the endless dark pit. He was too high to see the bottom. Another cry came, much louder this time. It had to be a woman whimpering. Mangled. Ripped to pieces.
Don't tell me... Well, I guess trusting a psychopath's word isn't actually smart now, is it? Oh, well I suppose it could've been more than one mastermind to add sugar and cream to her coffee. Why does everything have to be such a pain in the ass, Alex groaned, speeding up his descent. Please be okay... please be ok- Aw, who am I kidding? Probably looks like her face got fuck started by a cheese grater. I'm never gonna' sleep tonight at this rate.
"Help me... please." A weak and frail voice called out.
"Alright, alright, keep your shirt on!" Alex shouted, starting to jog as best he could. He slowed his pace as another thought came to mind. Wait a damn minute. Scarlett warned not to explore at night... She never said anything about killing a woman. Granted I never asked, so why would she? Is this a spirit? That shit doesn't exist- Fuckin' forgot about the cow skulled fucker. What if this is a real person? How the hell am I gonna' explain this to the cops if she's alive and mangled to hell? What if I get framed for murder? Maybe an anonymous phone call?
More and more thoughts plagued him, none of them remotely pleasant. It was a desperate attempt to distract himself from the reality of the situation. There was a cry for help. A cry that only grew more pained and frantic by the second. It was like an animal, suffering as it clung on desperately to life. He'd never be able to forgive himself if it was someone he could've saved.
Chills ran down his spine. Despite his initial thought, he pulled out his gun. He knew to trust nothing in this town. Not even himself. After what felt like an eternity, he reached the entrance. Next to the stairs awaited an old, rotted wooden door.
The sounds were loudest from this point. Alex took a deep breath and approached it. It swung open before he had a chance to grab the handle. More stairs and a narrow hall were inside leading further in. His instincts screamed to run. To do anything to get out. There was something else however. A subtle intuition.
Turning his back on this door felt more dangerous than entering it. To take his chances on fate rather than face it with his own hands. To at least confirm what he was dealing with so he knew how to avoid it, just like back at the house. No matter how much he didn't want to.
"Fuck this place," he muttered as he stepped down the steps. "Seriously fuck this place."
He was trembling. There was no sweat left to drop. All of this excitement had him drenched, his lips as dry as raisins. The exhaustion in his legs grew numb. He reached the bottom.
The concrete floor had dark red stains all over it. Alex shined his light forward, cringing. Ugh, it smells like shit in here... What did I expect, sunshine and rainbows? His eyes widened at what was littered along the ground. There were stained, rusted knives, saws, pliers, used syringes, and shards of shattered glass.
It crunched beneath his boots as he shined his light at the center of the room. A rope groaned as it swung back and forth, the shadow of a girl where the body should've been. Sitting in front of him was a woman. Her hair was a wild mess, like she'd been struck by lightning.
Alex's grip on his Beretta tightened and he held his breath. Goosebumps formed on his flesh at the mere sight of her. Whispers danced around him more and more throughout the room. At first he thought it had been Asmodeus making those creepy noises, but this was the source of those sounds. This was the center.
He remembered what Scarlett initially said. Strange. To think he'd lead you here of all places... If there had to be a reason, it had to be the figure rising to her feet in front of him now. The air in the room froze. Unexplainable pressure pushed on his shoulders like a tidal wave.
The snowy white hair she'd once had was now dyed a dark, dark red. Dried blood that had stained every inch of her. Her dress was slashed in several places, decomposing flesh at every opening. Alex took one step forward. The woman's head twisted around, her body unmoving. Her face would've brought even the bravest man to tears. Alex once again swallowed in a desperate desire to vomit.
A needle protruded an infected, oozing eye, while the other looked like it had been scooped out with a spoon. Several cuts scattered around her bloodied, toothless mouth. It was like she'd been force fed the glass scattered along the floor.
Rosale's right arm was a twisted work of art, her elbow protruding from the decaying flesh. The left was stretched out longer than her entire body, fingers missing from the hand. Alex's trigger finger tensed when a sudden thought came. You won't win this fight. Not like this. Not here.
The chair flew toward him. Alex ducked as it smashed against the wall behind him. His eyes never left Rosale. She screamed as she sped toward him, walking backwards. Her feet left the ground.
Alex swerved around her, sprinting for the door. He wasn't tired anymore. The pain in his leg didn't exist anymore. He didn't care if it ripped off at this point as long as he got away. His footsteps echoed up the stairs as the door slammed in his face.
"Piece of shit! Open up!" Alex snapped, smashing his shoulder into it over and over again. It may as well have been lodged in place. He spun around.
Rosale was right in his face. Her animated body twisted around, snatching at his neck. Her remaining eye grew crimson. Blood dripped from her mouth and eye socket all over him. Alex choked, kicking and sputtering. It was like trying to hit smoke. His vision was growing dark when an image flashed in his eyes. A sight of what she looked like before she was murdered.
"S-Scarlett?" he sputtered, his eyes rolling back.
At that name, Rosale gasped and released her grip. He fell back through the door. He didn't skip a beat. Alex kicked the door in her face and struggled to his feet. He closed the entrance behind him, running away from the lighthouse. He was too scared to notice that the coffee boy's body and Scarlett were gone. No blood left along the sands either.
He grabbed his bag on the sands along the way. It seemed timeless, but he never stopped moving until he was by the hotel. He stopped to look back. After a moment, he took a breath.
But then the lighthouse door opened, and a figure walked onto the beach quickly and in a straight line. Chills ran down his spine as he felt its eyes shoot in his direction. It started moving again, like an ant scampering down the beach. He'd never bolted faster in his life.