“You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you, child? ” the woman teased, I paused mid stride, drenched, does she know?, I thought, vigilant, her blood red jacket untouched by rain despite the downpour. “Who are you?” I coughed, chilled, “your deliverer,” she declared, fangs glistening.

She sauntered forward, each step deliberate, each second amp as my fear spiraled beyond control until a irregular calm possessed me when her hands gently caressed my cheeks, “despair for me,” she coaxed, piercing my heart, vision fading, her smile forever burned into my retina triggering buried memories.

I remembered the rain shadowing my despair as I learned the truth, offhand, his lawyers crisp black suit and perfect teeth hid a ferocious appetite as they extorted every cent. I struggled against their machination but the battle was lost before it began, my broken dreams created a broken man. I recalled the headline that ended everything 18 Year Old Prodigy Accused of Plagiarism in Rising VR Market, three years later I find myself where it all began, dying.

I awoke like a dream, before me was a wizened old man his beard neatly trim his garb a high double-breasted black waistcoat, striped pepper-and-sage colored trouser, a lavender tie, and a crimson dress coat his visage grand and imposing behind me several strangers lay vulnerable on the cusp of waking.

I shivered slightly as the old man stared in my direction, expressionless, I looked away, dozens of tapestries suffused my vision, depicting men dying and hunting abominations, awed by the heroism depicted I gathered my courage and spoke, “ this place would be perfect for a cthulhu” -the old man interjected my lines with cold clarity, waking the others- “welcome to Ashcroft Manor,” he addressed.

“Whats going on here?” a tall well endowed woman demanded, disoriented, of the fifteen strangers behind me, seven immediately repeated the same question. The old man bowed apathetic to the rising tension, “you are our newly awakened guests” -blood gushed across the room splattering everyone besides the old man- “we seem to have a rat infestation, Camille will have some explaining to do when she returns,” he murmured deadpanned, of the sixteen guest, me included, the well endowed woman had vanished, mere seconds passed in silence until seven men and woman desperately rushed the old man, brandishing strange paraphernalia only to die halfway as bits of flesh and guts littered the once spotless gallery, their dead, I mentally screamed, “hostile guests will be shown no hospitality,” the old man announced, as I and the remaining seven examined one another, a sharp eyed boy raised his hand, “yes, Mikhail?' the old man answered, the boy sauntered towards the old man, passed me, his feet sloshing against wet tile, “how do you know my name, old man?” Mikhail cautioned, “moreover why am I here, I should be dead, like the sad saps I popped, god knows when” he shouted irritated, his words appearing primitive near the end, surprising both me and the others.

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“We have a dainty killer, how quaint as for your questions, knowing your name wasn't any harder then learning the rest, for example the one behind you, avoiding eye contact is Zed, a has been” Camille mocked as she appeared from the shadows, “your” -before I could finish my sentence Camille smacked the old man across the room- “ your childish pranks are to cease immediately Camille, hopefully this will satisfy you,” the old man advised brushing off fragments of tile and glass, “ old fart Sinclair, why dint you dodge?” she huffed, Sinclair shook his head, reached into his pocket and pulled out a bronze watch, he checked the time several times until he spoke once more, “ Camille we have our duties to complete, the master will be here soon,” Sinclair informed, Camille departed instantly, “wait,” I begged, she gave me a quick glance before vacating the premise. Gets her every time, Sinclair thought amused as he placed the watch back into his pocket. “Who is she,” I asked Sinclair, “no one important,” he mused, “we should get started, were late as it is, follow me,” he beckoned towards us as he walked across the room towards a large and ornate door, with his hand he twisted the sterling knob and opened the door, the moment he did so a slight chill draped the gallery as we followed behind him, inside was a ocean of fire, the door automatically shut behind us, “ no, fire, no?” a man screamed as he attempted to claw at the door, further agitating the others until Mikhail knocked the man out effortlessly by simply touching him, “ care to explain the fire, old man Sinclair,” Mikhail asserted, “its very simple, you have two choices, enter the fire or die here and now,” Sinclair notified, “this is insane, will die in their” a woman protested, before any of us could say another world Mikhail jumped into the fire, vanishing from sight, “next,” Sinclair chimed, I fell to my knees, witnessing Sinclair's cruel smile while the others fled toward the door, stepping on the unconscious man in their haste, I closed my eyes and covered my ears in order to tune out their furious banging and desperate pleas as Sinclair's footsteps grew farther away until their was nothing but my heavy breathing, I reluctantly opened my eyes, no blood, yet their gone, I thought, only Sinclair and the unconscious man remained, I stood up, dragged the unconscious man with unexpected ease and ran into the fire without a second thought, fear lending wings to my feet.