Marcy is slumped against a far wall where we stashed her to keep her away from the fight. Will has slipped both of his rubber gloves onto his hands. I stand beside him, arms crossed over my chest, glaring at the monster. “Phantasmagoria: A series of illusions like those in a dream,” I recite calmly, watching as its grin only grows from my recognition. “Very Good, Mr. Illia,” It calls out. Its voice is now a braided version of both women. The construct raises its fleshy arm in our direction, and 5 spare corpses animate before us. The crunching of bone is nauseating to listen to, but my heart is beating so fast that I can hardly process it. The animations come at us one by one, and Will takes each down in under a minute. He spits a wad of blood onto the last corpse that managed to punch him in the jaw. “What a fucking pain in the ass,” Will groans under his breath. His eyes move to the rope that connects us and then back to the Word. “That’s a cute trick, not very effective though,” Will calls out with a taunting whistle, his arms held up behind his head as he yawns like he couldn’t be bothered by this in the slightest.

The Word lets out an angry roar of protest. The scream is ear-splitting, and the sheer intensity of it makes me clasp my hands over my ears for some relief. My efforts do nothing; the sound is coming from inside my very skull. It is a mixture of every voice I’ve ever known. “God damn stop your fucking bitching” Will adds in a senseless protest as he picks up a skull and chucks it at the monster. Bone meets bone, and the skull clatters to the floor after smacking straight into the thing's chest. It looks appalled before its smile melts right back. “Will Will Will.” It trills with Sarah’s voice. Four perfect copies of the woman rise from animated dead bodies. Their eyes have been carved out, and their mouths are held up in an unnatural smile. It’s the low blow I was counting on.

Will fists hesitate as the first copy reaches him. Its arms wrap around his neck, its voice a sing-song of sultry affections. I can see the fight in his eyes draining. I can see the way his hands twitch with the desire to wrap around her. “Will, you're missing something, remember,” I whisper by his side, quiet enough only he can hear me. His smirk snaps back on in an instant. “You jealous, Ethan?” He calls back under his breath as he works on untangling the corpse of his dead fiancée from around his neck. I scoff, “You wish.”  He gives a small nod of approval at my words before he leans down to cover his mouth from the monster. “Go,” He mouths silently before snapping his attention back to the Word. “Hey, jackass, the mutilated fiancée card is getting old,”  Will sneers as all four copies cling onto him.  He talks a big game, but as I watch him slip his humanity behind a mask as he pulls his fist back and punches one of the animations with all his strength. I can see parts of him splinter away with each punch he lands. But I don’t have time to dwell on his slipping humanity as I vanish into the shrouded darkness unnoticed. The rope that once hung between us is now severed and dangling off Will’s waist.