Maria stood outside the spare room, her heart pounding with anxiety. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that seemed to press in from all sides, amplifying every creak and groan. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She needed to reach Andy, to pull him back from the brink.

The hallway felt longer than usual, the shadows stretching and warping in the dim light. Maria's footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floor, each step filled with a mix of determination and dread. She reached the door to the spare room and paused, listening to the silence beyond.

"Andy?" she called softly, her voice barely a whisper.

There was no response. Maria's hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly. The door creaked open, revealing the pitch-black room beyond. She took a tentative step inside, her eyes straining to adjust to the darkness.

"Andy, please," she said, her voice trembling. "Talk to me."

Still, there was no response. Maria fumbled for the light switch, her fingers brushing against the cold wall. The light flickered on, casting a harsh, unforgiving glow over the room. The sight that greeted her made her heart skip a beat.

Andy was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. He looked gaunt, his once-athletic frame reduced to a skeletal shadow of its former self. His eyes, once bright and full of life, were now sunken and hollow, dark circles marring his face. His hair, once soft and unruly, was now matted and greasy, framing a face that had lost all its boyish charm. He looked feral, a wild, haunted look in his eyes.

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Maria's heart broke at the sight of him. "Andy," she whispered, taking a step closer. "It's me, Maria. I'm here to help you."

Andy looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and fear. "Maria?" he croaked, his voice barely audible.

Maria took another step forward, her hands outstretched. "Yes, Andy. It's me. Please, let me help you."

But as she approached, Andy's expression changed. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger crossing his face. "You can't help me," he hissed, his voice growing louder. "No one can help me."

Maria felt a chill run down her spine. She could see the madness in his eyes, the darkness that had consumed him. She took another step back, her heart pounding in her chest. "Andy, please," she begged. "Don't do this. We can get through this together."

But it was too late. Andy's face contorted with rage, and he lunged at her, his movements wild and erratic. Maria screamed, the sound echoing through the empty house. She tried to fend him off, but his grip was like iron, his strength fueled by madness.

In a moment of blind rage, Andy lashed out, his hands closing around Maria's throat. She struggled, her vision growing dim as the darkness closed in. Her last thought was of the man she had loved, the man who had been consumed by his own ambition and driven to madness.

As the life drained from her, Maria's body went limp in Andy's grasp. He let go, his eyes wide with horror as he realized what he had done. He stumbled back, his mind a whirlwind of guilt and fear.