unfinished book

Oletus Manor never had snow before. During his stay, the only maps he's known to have snow was Leo's Memory, and even then... It was more of a hindrance than something to admire.

He could vaguely remember the blood staining the pure white landscape and shuddered. He forgets how hunters are mere... Beings, cursed to chase them as survivors in the death game. Worse, wield things that would leave them with phantom aches.

Alas, that was something he shouldn't remember.

Pushing himself up and from his seat, he walked out of his room. He needed a breath of fresh air, and maybe a trip outside of the manor will be enough. After all, going outside never hurts anyone.

And so, Orpheus ventured on.

As the footsteps echoed down, down, down... The novelist noticed that the residents aren't around. It was like the manor is empty, devoid of life.

Then, he hears it.

The giggling of two children as he saw himself running from one of the halls, being dragged by another child.

"Come on, Orphy! We don't get to go out often!"

"H- Hey, stop pulling! I can walk!"

"You'll take too long if you do that! Come ooooon!"

He couldn't tell if he was seeing an illusion, but after blinking a few times... He isn't. If anything, it felt more like he's walking down the manor that is more resemblance of his memories.

... Something that he's repressed for so long.

Quietly, the novelist followed the two children. They were weaving through halls and corridors, the blonde excitedly dragging his younger iteration through them like she knew the location herself.

It's no wonder she's able to go around the manor, Orpheus thought. She's a clever lady, but to think she used to live here...

Still, what he didn't expect was for the two children to get to the front door. When he had arrived, the door was locked and bolted shut, but in his sight, it was left ajar. Clearly, it was a ploy— a trap to think it was already opened.

Although he seems hesitant, he watched the two kids pushed the door wider, letting the sight of white engulf them as they both went outside.

Then, he could hear it.

The faint cries of joy as the children's voices grew faint, and he felt himself taking a step forward.

He knew that this was a mere memory, something that was tied to the effect of those drugs they were forced to take. However, he didn't want to break the illusion just yet.

His gloved fingers rest itself on the wooden door, his monocle glistening as the first few snowflakes touched his body. It felt... Real. Cold, yes, but real— unlike the maps and games he's endured.

With a gentle push, the novelist went out of the door, trudging on.

For a mere moment, he swore he felt someone hold his hand.

Warm.

He felt warm.

"Are you ready, Orpheus?"

And for once, the man looked up and on to the one leading him: the one tied to his memories.

"I'm ready, Alice."

He couldn't forget how warm her hands were, and how her halo shone just a bit brighter amidst the snow.

Just like when they were children.

No, it was different. Far, far more different than she could ever remember… Or imagine, for that matter.

Stepping afoot in the map now shrouded in darkness, the young journalist couldn't help but shiver. This was not like what she saw in the academy, and especially in her stay with others that resembled her. To her, this was different, and perhaps… Much worse than the last time she came here.

She has heard of rumors floating about, but the most common was the individual people called the 'dentist'.

—This is where the dentist used to reside in. Children go missing when they go to Sacred Heart.

—Really? How terrifying…

Indeed! After all, the only thing that is left here—

"—are children's teeth…" the journalist whispered, her legs moving to head inside the building. The lightning clapped in the sky as a bellowing sound echoed, making her jump.

She was never a fan of stormy nights. It reminded her of something so… Unsightly in her childhood. Something she could never forget, even in her time in the academy.

Step after step, she held the camera closer to her chest. All she needed to do was to get evidence, and then she can leave. That was all there is to it, right?

… So why does she feel her heart race like it'd pop out of her chest?

Clambering up the staircase, she noticed the various words written on the wall.

Get out of here!

The dentist lurks in his swamp!

Where is the truth?

The truth… How bitter.

Arriving inside the operating room, the blonde woman noticed something… Odd. From the sight of the body, it was gone— no sight of it remained. It wasn't surprising for her, but the thing that caught her eye was the jars around the place.

Some were broken as the lid rolled up to her boots, the contents spilling on some that were tipped over in the table. Her eyes widened when she saw what it was.

Teeth.

Children teeth.

Some jars were not broken, but she could see how some of the teeth were rotten. Like it mutilated in the skulls of the dentist's 'patients'.

She could vaguely hear the thunder roar outside, and the soft clink clink of the teeth that met glass shards. Some even jumped at her, making her gasp and shuffle back.

In her panic, she had hit the worn cabinet behind her, making it sway. She turned to see what she had bumped into, stiffening up as she saw what it was.

Then, she sprinted away from the scene.

She could hear the faint shattering of glass, the jars meeting its demise in the dirty ground of Sacred Heart. One by one, the shattering grew more louder than the last, echoing and haunting the journalist to no end.

And then, she hears it.

The eerie soft chimes of the children giggling… And the soft, almost inaudible calling of a man.

She could hear her heart palpating and beating like a drum, making her grow deaf. With paranoia seizing her, all she could think was to flee.

And flee she did.

She turned to leave the hospital, her footsteps growing loud in her haste. She could hardly remember if she had her camera with her, but she didn't care for it anymore.

For she could hear the children scream. Scream for her to leave.

To never be caught by the dentist.

Ah, in her haste to leave the place, she had simply forgot one such clue. Monsters roamed in the hunting grounds of Sacred Heart, not just the famed dentist.

… Which proved to be her mistake.

The Sacred Heart Hospital was a dreadful hunting ground for those that survived, much like the other maps she's seen and remembered. In her stay of Oletus, she has seen many of them fall in this place… And the eerie sounds that come with it.

The eerie sounds are always around. It always was.

Alas, as she reached the exit, she could see the gates close shut—

—Which caused the hands to reach out and grab her from behind.

She let out a muffled cry as she was dragged into the mist, covering the blood curdling screams that came right after.

…

As the mist died down, the exit gates open once more, and what was left in the wake of the 'journalist' was a camera.

… And a doll of Orpheus, marking the day yet another naughty child was 'caught'.

... The only saving grace, however, was that it had been Arms Factory and there were more competent survivors that made sure to keep the team together.

Feeling a gloved hand on his shoulder, he turned his head to you, who simply shook your head. Ah. He must've looked terrifying, hm?

"I'm fine, Norton," he heard you answer, the feeling of the weight of your hand leaving as you placed it on your lap. Your attire had been torn, but it was better than last time.

Good, you aren't too heavily injured, he mused, sighing. "Quartz, you know that I'm doing this out of worry. Polun is a hard one to deal with, let alone escape against with the team you were with."

There goes an endearing nickname he called you— Quartz. He calls you something else, however, but that was the most frequent he'd choose. Unknowingly, of course.

"I know that. However, everyone wasn't as terrible against him, Norton," you reasoned, raising your left hand to gently cup his. Your gloved thumb traced over his cheek, and although he didn't want to show he liked it, you two could see him lean over involuntarily.

"After all, if they were, I wouldn't be here in your arms now, would I?"

Norton couldn't find an answer to that.

It was, unfortunately, true. If you had been hurt, he wouldn't have you in his grasp— he would've had you under Emily's care. And yet here you are, bandaged up, clothes torn, but still alive.

He couldn't help but sigh and bury his head on the crook of your neck, closing his eyes right after. He let go of you to simply adjust the position of his arms, wrapping it around your body to keep you close to him.

He wouldn't admit it, of course, but you can be quite stubborn for a priest. Not that he particularly cares— to him, what mattered was your safety, not your occupation.

... That, and unlike that Priestess, you rely on your own wits and snap decision to save you from being chaired.

Perhaps it's why he is so protective of you, and yet he simply backs off when you prove him wrong. After all, how could he when you both knew that you were right?

"... Maybe not. But I'd still like to make sure you're not in danger, if I can help it," he admitted, making you laugh at his own concern. He would normally grunt when someone else does it, but he didn't have the heart to do it to you.

You, a priest, who have left your past beliefs to find faith in a different God.

"Dear, with you on my side, I'll never be in danger. I can promise you that."

And for a mere moment, Norton knew those words rang true than the ones written in scripture.

It's a weird thing, really. The abyss is not one to discriminate those that reside in it, and yet for Orpheus, he found it to be one of the very places where mankind is to be judged in its own eyes.

As he stood by and stared back at the unending darkness, he found himself unable to look away. Why, what he was staring was something no one but himself can understand, and it was almost as though it spoke to him.

" Orpheus... "

Despite the yelling he could hear from those around him, it sounded akin to white noise as the unknown reached out to him, gently grabbing him by the throat.

" Oh, Orpheus... "

Then, it went by to even more parts of himself. Those voices he kept hearing became more and more softer— it was almost harder for him to hear it if it weren't for them yelling, begging for him to look.

Alas, he couldn't look. Rather, he didn't want to look.

It was almost like something was stopping him from doing so.

" Orpheus! Orpheus, wake up! "

He could hardly feel anything in his body as the walls came crashing down, his mind becoming numb with the amount of thorns that began to sink into his skin like knives. He knew in himself that it was wrong, but who was he to indulge the last bits of himself before he's lost humanity?

And yet, before he could go for long, he felt 2 lithe hands yank him from getting too close and deep into its confines and dragged out, making him greet the beaming light—

—and the angered look of one of the survivors he was in a match with. One that he knew awfully well.

"What were you doing in there?!" Lily yelled, sounding angry as she held her pompoms under her arm. "Can't you see that being near him was bad news?! You were like, under it's control and letting him eat at you alive like that!"

The novelist stayed quiet as he heard words(?) come out of her, her voice sounding much like white noise that he hears in his episodes. He could hardly understand what she was saying as he could see the abyss lurking from beneath them, slowly clambering its way up to their legs—

—It'll consume her alive. I need to act quickly.

"—and it's like you forgot we were in a ma--"

"Move out of the way!"

He shoved Lily off to the side, and although she wanted to yell at him again, her eyes widened at the sight of spikes coming up from beneath and striking the heart of the matter.

Orpheus's heart.

All she could do was watch in bated breath as she sees the novelist's body be pierced by multiple abyssal spikes, digging through him and making him bleed. After a while, he seems to lurch and heave, almost like he was alive.

And yet his eyes... Oh, Lily couldn't forget.

His eyes were staring at her.

Boring holes into her like a film that could not be forgotten by many.

Although his body was twisted and contorted to an abomination that she could hardly recognize, she couldn't hear herself screaming as she saw the last remains of the novelist be tossed to a pathetic whelp of mass, guts and blood spewing and spilling absolutely everywhere.

Then, she hears it.

" Lily.... "

The darkness ate away at what semblance she had as she felt paranoia seize her heart, her pompoms laid on the ground with a defeated and muted pomf.

...

Was her surroundings getting darker, perhaps?

Or was it simply her imagination?

Alas, no man can save her, for she has heard it calling for her.

And thus, she reached her hand for the abyss above, unknowing of the fact that it had consumed her from below.