Quinn looked around the bar. Different puppets sat at tables chatting as if the past regressions didn’t happen. The bartender polished a glass behind the bar, naive to what was about to happen.

Quinn walked forward, his scythe strapped around his waist. He could take a sip of alcohol before he attempted to take the key, but he didn’t even like alcohol that much.

After reaching the bar, he didn’t sit, but leaned against the table and watched the bartender.

“What would you like?” The bartender spoke, staring at Quinn calmly.

Quinn didn’t reply. Instead, he narrowed his eyes to look at the bartender. The puppet face didn’t seem to change after seeing Quinn's odd behavior. He wasn’t human, after all.

Suddenly, in less than a moment, Quinn jumped over the bar and reached for the key. Just like last time, the bartender almost instantly became enraged, reaching out to grab Quinn’s arm.

Quinn knew he would do this, so he twisted his body just as before and kicked the bartender in the head using the skills he had learned from Golden Quinn.

This time, his kick was much more powerful, cracking open the puppet's thick head and sending him tumbling to the ground.

Looks like he is out for the count… Quinn turned away from the bartender and looked at the puppets that guarded the door. Not giving even a second for them to attack, he rushed forward as fast as he could.

In only a second, Quinn stood in front of one of the puppets. Quinn pulled the scythe out in front of him, chopping off the puppet's head. Then, he grabbed the flying head and threw it towards the group of puppets piled by the door.

The puppet impacted by the head fell backwards by the strength put behind the throw. Because of this, the puppets standing behind it also fell backwards. Only a few puppets were able to keep their balance, quickly rushing towards Quinn when they got the chance.

Quinn jumped towards one of the puppets, trying to chop off its head, but another puppet jumped towards him with its jaw wide open.

Barely dodging the attack aimed towards his stomach, Quinn cut the head off of the puppet that leaped at him and threw its body towards the second puppet.

Quickly after, Quinn delivered a clean kick to the second puppet, smashing it to pieces.

During the commotion, the rest of the puppets regained their footing and prepared to attack Quinn.

Five, there are five more puppets…

All five puppets rushed at Quinn, toppling over each other as they tried to reach him. Quinn couldn’t take them all at once, but he had a plan to deal with them.

Quinn shoved the scythe into the roof of the bar, then propelled himself with a jump over the stampede of puppets. Once he was right above them, he pulled the scythe out of the roof and sliced at the pile of puppets laying below him.

The scythe sliced through the puppets, cutting almost all of them in half. Only two were able to survive the onslaught, but they still sustained major damage, losing a limb or two.

Quinn breathed in, joyful that most of the puppets had been taken care of. Slowly, he stepped over the bodies of the dead puppets and made it to the two puppets lying on the ground.

Raising his scythe, he prepared to end their suffering, but suddenly, the bartender puppet jumped from behind the bar and grabbed Quinn’s arm.

This bastard really knows how to put up a fight. Quinn tried pulling his arm away, but the bartender wouldn’t let go.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, the two damaged puppets leaped up from the floor and rushed towards Quinn.

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Desperate, Quinn tried kicking them, pushing them back only a slight bit. Then, with only a few moments, he threw the scythe to his other hand and cut upwards, chopping off the bartender's arms.

Quinn took a few steps backwards as he tried regaining his balance. Then, with a quick slash, he sliced off the bartender's head, finishing him for good.

Trying to find a small opportunity, the last two puppets tried attacking him together, but Quinn recognized their attempt and cut them both in half with one motion.

Quinn searched around the room, looking for any more puppets that could attack without his knowledge. After he found nothing, he suddenly took in a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“I did it.” Quinn felt relieved. He stepped over the corpses of dead puppets and jumped over the bar. Sitting on the shelf, a key sat inside a glass bottle.

Quinn grabbed the bottle, breaking it open and retrieving the key. He held it up to the light, examining it before putting it in his pocket next to the Inn key.

Now all I have to do is grab the final key and open the secret door.

Quinn looked around the bar one last time before stepping outside. The sunlight felt nice on his sweaty face, and the breeze helped to cool him down.

After a few seconds of relaxation, Quinn began to run away from the bar and in the direction of the cabin. He crossed over the bridge by the waterfall and ran through the forest until he stood in front of the old house.

Once inside, he opened the hidden trapdoor and made his way into the hidden basement.

Quinn stepped down the stairs carefully, weary that the tattered puppet might be down there. Even though it wasn’t there before, he needed to make sure so he didn’t get sneak attacked.

Once realizing the puppet wasn’t there, he grabbed the third key, tossing it in his hand and pocketing it. Finally, he had all three keys he would need to open up the secret door.

What lies behind that door is a mystery, one that would be solved in just a few moments.

Quinn stepped out of the cabin house and made his way across the dirt path.

Currently, it has been around 20-25 minutes since the start of this regression. I should still have plenty of time to make it through the secret door and figure out what I need to do with that clock behind the waterfall.

After making it to the special tree, Quinn climbed up it and pulled the secret lever. A rumbling noise was made as the hidden door opened up from the ground.

Hastily, Quinn rushed down the tree and walked down the stairs leading to the secret door. Quinn looked at the door, looking at its three keyholes.

Yellow, Green and Bronze…

He pulled out the three keys in his pocket, matching them to the colors on the door.

This seems right. Quinn grasped the yellow key he had found in the Inn and inserted it into the door. Slowly, he twisted it, listening to a locking mechanism hidden inside the door.

After he could no longer twist it, he took the bronze key and inserted it into its matching keyhole. Similarly, he twisted it slowly until he no longer could.

Finally, he pulled out the final key. It was the green key he had retrieved from the bar, the one he had the roughest trouble retrieving.

Quinn looked towards Golden Quinn with a glance of readiness. Golden Quinn nodded at him, and they both watched as Quinn slowly inserted the key into the keyhole.

This was what Quinn had been waiting for. Slowly, he began to twist the key.

Suddenly, as Quinn twisted the key, a puncturing sound could be heard from behind him. Quinn didn’t think it was anything of importance until he realized he could no longer move.

In fear, he did the only thing he could do and turned his eyes downwards. Protruding from his stomach, a wooden hand covered in blood and other intestinal juices could be spotted.

Quinn’s eyes opened with shock, fearful of what had done this to him.

After what felt like forever, the hand pulled away from Quinn’s stomach. Quinn fell backwards towards the ground, his body numb to the harm that just befell him. The sudden rush of adrenalin seemed to numb the pain.

Quinn coughed up blood as he stared up towards the figure that had stabbed him.

So you did it…

The figure that had stood behind him and inflicted a killing blow was none other than the ragged puppet that killed him before in the basement of the cabin.

But why is it here…

Golden Quinn tried yelling out to Quinn, but Quinn couldn’t hear his voice.

Quinn saw his mouth moving, but he couldn’t reply to tell him he couldn’t speak.

What is he saying… has he been yelling this entire time…?

The puppet leaned over Quinn, watching as the lights faded from his enemies eyes. Slowly, Quinn’s mind began to grow quiet, and the darkness began to surround his vision. Once again, Quinn had died.