Route 4.3.1 – Trick

Even though you briefly consider not complying with his request, you know that you will have to blink soon anyway and decide to blink twice, unsettled. You choose ‘trick’, assuming that the killer expects you to take ‘treat’, and therefore suspect that ‘treat’ is the worse torture. Even though you know that both choices are likely to result in pain and your inevitable death. However, the man in the mask did not tell you which ‘games’ you could choose between and therefore you will never know if there was a ‘milder’ torture to choose from. He may have asked the question only to torture you in your mind, and he would continue to torture you in the cruellest way possible, no matter what answer you gave.

            “Ah… So, trick… Mhahaha… Very good choice! Well then, I won’t keep you in suspense any longer, hehe… The game you have chosen, I affectionately call ‘evisceration’. Good, good, let’s not waste any more time then! Let’s get into the fun!” Evisceration…? Horrified, you stare at your counterpart, hoping fervently that he doesn’t mean what the word makes you think of. The murderer amusedly lets go of your head and your chin falls back on your chest. Again, you can see down your body. “Oh, yes, that way your posture is perfect for the game! Stay exactly like that! Just don’t move! Oh… That’s right, you can’t do that right now anyway, haha. Perfect, because this way you have the best view of the game!” You feel cold sweat wet your body, and you watch in horror as the man in the wolf mask picks up the scalpel from the floor. Your indescribable fear finally robs you of the ability to think. The murderer moves the sharp object towards your chest and applies it. How could you hope that behind the game of ‘evisceration’ there was anything other than what the word most aptly describes? Then you see the scalpel thrust abruptly and forcefully between your ribs and immediately after sinking deep into your skin, it is pulled down over your belly to your hip. Burning pain, the likes of which words cannot describe, radiates from the yelping wound. Blood gushes forth, slow and faint for a brief moment, before literally flowing down your body in streams within moments. You feel agony that no human being can imagine.

Then everything happens very quickly. The killer bursts into hysterical laughter and tears the bloody opening wide apart with his hands, grabs your intestines and pulls them out from inside you. Seemingly in a bloodlust, he throws your intestines through the air, causing your blood to splatter his mask, your face and the walls of the room. Then he rips out more of your organs and crushes your stomach in his hands until it bursts open and the pulpy contents make their way through the killer’s fingers to the floor, where they land with a slippery sound. The next moment the psychopath grabs your ribs and pulls hard, breaking them, bending them outwards, away from your body. “They’re in the way! Get rid of them, ahahaha!” The vision of your remaining eye worsens and begins to blur, your ears hear a steadily louder rustle as all other sounds become increasingly muffled. You almost made it, it won’t be long now.

The killer punches your lungs and the last air you will ever breathe bursts out of you. Without waiting to see how long you can continue to live without being able to breathe, he grabs your still beating heart from your chest and proudly and joyfully holds it in front of your nose before crushing it with all his strength and tearing it to pieces. How will your beloved family react when they hear of your death? From now on you will no longer be able to dry their tears. Your eye is open, but your gaze is empty. You are enveloped in an increasing, unknown and yet familiar darkness that soothes you and takes away your pain. You let yourself fall and gently it lulls you into your eternal sleep. You have made it.