12:01 AM
A space-time sorcery…
The world around them was gone. The ground beneath transformed into cold, grimy tiles. Walls shot up around them with dizzying speed, forming endless rows of decrepit bathroom stalls. The air grew heavy with a nauseating blend of mildew, rust, and something far more rotten lurking beneath.
Rinne spun around, her eyes wide. The stalls stretched infinitely in every direction, each door hanging ajar with a slow, haunting creak. Flickering lights cast erratic shadows that danced and twisted like living things.
The mirrors lining the walls caught her attention. In them, countless reflections of Aka Manto stared back, each one slightly distorted—some grinning maniacally, others with hollow, soulless eyes that bore into her very being.
"Welcome to my world," Aka Manto's voice resonated from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating through the labyrinth of stalls. "A place where the discarded and the filthy are laid bare. Where one cannot escape the stench of their own failures."
Rinne's heartbeat thundered in her ears. She reached out to touch one of the stall doors, but recoiled as it groaned open on its own. Inside, the stall was pitch black, an abyss that seemed to beckon her forward.
From the darkness, a hand emerged—pale, slick, and writhing with something that looked like veins pulsing just beneath the skin. It clawed at the air, reaching for her.
She stumbled back, only to feel something wet and slimy underfoot. Looking down, she saw the tiles were now slick with a viscous, dark fluid that oozed and bubbled, releasing foul-smelling vapors that clouded her vision.
The whispers grew louder, more insistent. The mirror images of Aka Manto began to step out from their frames, each one dragging a tattered red cloak that left trails of blood in their wake. They moved erratically, limbs twitching and contorting in unnatural ways.
Rinne tried to steady her breathing, her mind racing to find a way out. "This... this isn't real," she told herself. "It's just an illusion."
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"Is it?" Aka Manto's voice whispered right next to her ear.
She whipped around, but there was no one there. The stall doors began to slam open and shut violently, the cacophony echoing like thunder. The floor started to tilt and shift, throwing her off balance.
From above, the lights burst one by one, raining down shards of glass that transformed mid-air into fluttering pieces of blue toilet paper. They wrapped around her like ropes, constricting her movements. Instantly, she felt her mana being pulled out of her at a rapid pace, and she found herself unable to breath.
“Damn it!” She thought to herself as she struggled to break free from her restraints. With her mana being quickly drained out of her body, she couldn’t use her sorcery.
The reflections of Aka Manto closed in, their hollow eyes glowing with malevolent intent. "In this world," they spoke in unison, "there is no escape from the filth you carry within."
The walls began to close, the space shrinking as the stalls pressed closer. The ceiling dripped with a dark, tar-like substance that sizzled upon contact with the ground, emitting a smoke that twisted into ugly faces before dissipating.
All the copies of Aka Manto merged together into one as the spirit walked towards her, her form towering and more ominous than ever. The mask cracked slightly, revealing a glimpse of the void beneath—a swirling mass of darkness that threatened to consume her.
"Tell me, Rinne," he crooned softly, extending a hand toward her face. "Red paper or blue paper?"
She clenched her fists, glaring defiantly despite the fear gnawing at her insides. "I refuse to play your twisted game!"
She chuckled, a low, sinister sound that vibrated through the walls. "Ah, but the game has already begun. Denial only hastens the descent."
The floor beneath her feet began to crack, spiderweb fractures emitting an eerie crimson glow. From the fissures, shadowy hands emerged, grasping at her ankles with icy fingers.
Rinne struggled, her movements sluggish as if wading through thick sludge. The hands tightened their grip, pulling her downward. The more she resisted, the stronger they became.
All the while Aka Manto chanted a haunting melody devoid of hope:
"Flush away, flush away,
Let the waste consume the day.
Choices made and debts to pay,
In the toilet, you shall stay."
More of the rolls of the blue toilet paper attacked, wrapping all around her body, covering her mouth, blindfolding her, until she could no longer speak, nevermind move.
“MMMMMMPH!” She screamed in vain. She wondered if this was the end. “MMMPH!”
But then, a sudden noise split the air—a deep, metallic creak. High above, a segment of the ceiling shifted, swinging open like a trap door. And then, from the opening, something dropped—no, someone.