Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary!

Chapter 576: Identity [2]

There was something that I observed in the numerous days that I had stayed in the weird castle.

This place didn’t just give someone a sense of security. It didn’t merely provide comfort to the point of consuming one’s mind; it also slowly, gradually stripped away a person’s identity and everything they once were.

Tap—

—Observation Diary, Day 66. I’ve collected all relevant information about the bodies inside the room. I checked their phones and any data I could find about them. After that, I went out to the main courtyard to observe everyone.

—From what I’ve seen, the longer someone stays here, the more they lose track of their identity. It starts with their name. Then, slowly, their unique features begin to fade. Piece by piece, they lose hold of everything they once were, until eventually they become nothing more than faceless dolls.

Tap—

—Observation Diary, Day 49. Something has been happening to Drake and Esteban. I thought that they had fallen for the tricks, but they’ve lasted much longer than I expected. I guess one wasn’t a Paragon for nothing. I believe that Leon did something to them, hence why they weren’t able to recover. I’ve got... something in mind.

Tap—

—Observation Diary, Day 94. I’ve sacrificed my sleep. I c-an’t think properly. I’m starting to... see things. Should I... continue this? The bed feels tempting. Should I sleep? I need to sleep. I want to sleep. Let me sleep. Let me sleep. No, I can’t sleep! I can’t sleep! But I want to sleep.

Tap—

—Day... 107. I... am adapting. I see things... everywhere. But I’m dead. It doesn’t matter anyway. Soon, I will sacrifice my ability to drink. I’m still observing. I can’t... think well. I am struggling to stay conscious. I’m... struggling to stay walking.

Tap—

—Day... 143. I think I get... it. I think I have gotten a grasp on... what I need to do. This place... it.. it’s... What was I talking about? W-what am I doing? I’m thirsty.

Tap—

—165. Thirsty. Hungry. Thirsty. Hungry. Sleepy. Sleepy. Thirsty. Hungry. Sleepy. Pain. Hate it. I...

Tap—

—HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHA!

Tap—

—....Hahahahahahahaha!

Tap—

—.....Ha.

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—.....

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—.....

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—.....

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—.....

Tap—

*

".....I... I’m going crazy. It’s hard to fight the urges. The... more I sacrifice, the crazier I become... I don’t recall the last time I felt normal. How... long can I keep my sanity for? How long... can I keep my identity for?"

My hoarse voice whispered into the silence.

I languidly stared at the ceiling above with my remaining eye.

Everything felt like a blur inside my mind.

I didn’t even know how much time had passed.

It felt like a day had gone by, but listening to the recordings, I knew that wasn’t the case.

The time that had passed was far longer than that.

"There’s... several hundred recordings. Shit."

The sense of clarity I had...

How long would I be able to keep it?

The more time passed, the more I felt like I was losing a sense of myself.

’No... I can’t do that. I-I need to preserve.’

I could lose my everything, but my identity. That’d be the moment I’d truly be dead.

I stood up and paused.

Looking to my right, I saw that my right arm was missing. Only my left remained, and when I touched my face, I realized I couldn’t feel a thing. My nose, my ears, my lips...

"A-ah."

I staggered forward.

Every breath felt intense, and as I walked ahead, the world spun around me.

Voices began whispering inside my mind as I continued forward. I didn’t even know where I was going. I only knew that I had to keep moving.

The more I walked, the more I faded into my own consciousness.

But at the same time...

’I know.’

I... knew what I had to do.

I stumbled forward.

With whatever clarity I had left in my mind, I stumbled toward another room. I couldn’t think properly, but my body seemed to move on its own.

That moment felt like a blur.

I remembered doing something, but whenever I tried to think about what it was, my memory would smear and dissolve.

"A-ah."

By the time my consciousness returned, I was standing in the corridor once more.

Thump!

At some point, my legs gave out.

I collapsed onto the floor.

N-no.

Clinging to the ground, I forced myself forward with the only arm I had. But I didn’t get very far. At best, I managed to drag myself a few meters.

Still, I persisted.

I continued.

I forced myself forward.

Until—

"How pitiful."

A warm voice reached my ears.

When I looked up, a pair of clean shoes entered my line of sight.

"You look really pitiful at the moment. Is it really worth it? Torturing yourself to this point? For what reason?"

At that moment, I stopped struggling.

My entire body relaxed as the warm voice bathed me from above.

"You could’ve chosen the easy way out. You could’ve eaten all the food you wanted, drunk all the water you desired, and slept in the finest beds you’ll ever lie on. Instead, you struggled for hundreds of days... for what? What exactly did you struggle for?"

Something about the voice felt soothing to the ears.

Enough to make me feel more relaxed.

But that sense of relaxation didn’t last very long.

"You’ve achieved nothing."

Something in the voice shifted.

The air seemed to change along with it, a chilling cold spreading through the surroundings.

"Honestly, I let you do your thing because I thought you had something in mind. I believed that, after the countless years I’ve spent here, I might finally see something unique. Something that would change the way I looked at humans. But in the end... You were just struggling out of stubbornness."

The disappointment was clear.

"You struggled not because you didn’t want to die or anything like that. The reason you refused to die was simply that you’re stubborn. That’s all. You’re nothing special. You’re just... like everyone else. A more pitiful version of them."

The voice turned harsh.

It thundered throughout the surroundings as I stopped moving.

"You’re nothing but a shell of what you once were. Just... let yourself go. There’s no need to carry on further. Stop struggling for the sake of stubbornness. If you wanted to leave, you would’ve already been able to."

"....."

For a moment, as if his voice had finally reached me, I felt like listening to his voice.

He was right about everything. What even was the point of clinging to the pain? Kyle, my Squad, and everyone else... they’d do just fine without me.

I wasn’t very important.

Just a fleeting memory in their lives.

But, no...

’T-that’s... not it.’

My body began to tremble.

In that brief moment, my mind felt clear.

"Hm?"

Sensing something, his head tilted a little.

The more he looked at me, the more pitiful I must have seemed. My entire face was badly mutilated, the skin torn and misshapen as though it had been ravaged countless times over. What little remained of my expression was stiff and hollow, barely resembling a human face anymore.

And with only one arm left, I looked like a cripple.

In that moment, I looked less like a man and more like something that had been dragged through endless suffering and somehow kept moving anyway.

And yet—

"I’m sensing a shift in your mind. Still struggling? Why...?"

This was what he couldn’t understand.

"I’ve said it before. If you wanted to leave, you could’ve left. The fact that you’re still here despite so long having passed means that you don’t want to leave. You wish to stay here and enjoy everything, but are just too stubborn to—"

Suddenly, he paused.

At the same time, I slowly raised my head.

The words disappeared from his mouth as he looked directly at me.

He seemed to have understood something as he looked at me.

"Ha... ha."

In this moment of clarity, I understood something.

Perhaps, he was right.

Perhaps... If I really wanted to find the exit, I would have found it.

It was clear.

I just... didn’t want to leave this place.

Not because I was charmed by the drinks and party, or any other idea. It was something else entirely.

Something more degenerate.

Twisted.

Yes.

Simply put...

"I... want to..."

Without even knowing it, my lips twisted upwards.

And for the first time, the man’s face changed before my very eye.

"...make you bow."

My voice scraped out like broken glass.

"I want to know... how it feels..."

My eye locked onto him.

"...to step on a King."

Hehe...

"Ha... he..."

My shoulders trembled.

"Ha... ha..."

Laughter spilled out of me.

But in my mind—

Everything had never been clearer.

The more I lost...

The more I sacrificed...

The more pieces of myself I tore away...

The clearer it became.

Who I really was beneath all the pointless masks that buried what lay beneath my mask.

"Ha... haha..."

I was never the butcher.

And I was never the jester.

No.

I was something much worse.

Something far more disgusting.

Something that found extreme joy in stepping over things.

I was...

I was someone who would burn down everything, including myself, just to watch a King bow.

A Twisted Existence.