Someone found themselves in a japanese old style living room.
A single room not large enough to hold more than 5 people. However, Someone had more company than that.
7 people were sitting at the sides of Someone. All without a face. It looked like an artist had decided their faces weren´t good enough and in the lame effort to erase them, it only smudged them.
Their bodies white as snow. Contrasting with their black clothes.
7 people without faces with their head towards Someone.
Someone didn´t know what to do. So they didn´t move.
Suddenly, the 7 people started talking.
Someone couldn´t follow the rapid conversation of the group.
Their voices being unclear but loud enough to not being able to ignore it.
Someone was going nuts.
Someone finally noticed there were stairs by the paper door.
Someone made a run for it.
But Someone was stopped by 7 pairs of large and white hands before even reaching the door.
All of them had a whole in their smudged faces. Void black.
They put Someone in the same spot they were sat before.
Someone sweat.
Suddenly a screech from above could be heard.
Then 4 of the smudged faced people, went upstairs.
Someone looked at them going up, and heard a wooden door slaming open. But they didn´t see them go down. Someone just heard beatings and screams.
Someone knew the smudged faced people weren´t the ones screaming. But a woman.
The 3 smudged people that had stayed, had their heads in Someone´s direction. Not letting them move an inch.
The sound of a door closing.
The smudged people that went upstairs, came back and sat in mechanic perfection.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
Then the smudged faced people, with the same mechanic perfection, stood up and in pairs went through doors to leave Someone alone.
Someone couldn´t see where the doors connected to. As they were black and foggy.
With the perfect timed slamming of the doors, Someone was alone.
Someone waited a moment.
Someone heard the same screech from before.
Someone got up and ran towards the stairs.
Someone looked up. In the end there was the door, half opened.
"That´s weird." thought Someone going up "I heard the door being closed" Someone saw the eyes of a woman pipping.
Someone hadn´t seen eyes as bloody in their whole life.
Someone doubted. But Someone kept moving. Maybe unconsciously.
Someone reached the door at the top, and looked down.
It was farther than they had thought. Making a run would be impossible.
Someone opened the door completely.
It was a chaotic attic.
Lots of ropes and old looking things were all over the place.
The attic had a window that made the light look orange. But the color of blood isn´t orange.
A trace followed further into the chaotic room.
Someone didn´t want to follow, but their feet moved on their own. Someone walked a path of amber. And Someone reached the reason of the path.
The woman that pipped was looking at the window.
She had a beautiful pink dress. Ruthlessly ruined with her amber red.
Someone was just behind her. But she moved her head towards Someone.
Every hole in her face was bathed in red. Her eyes were missing. Her mouth didn´t have teeth. She started moving erraticaly towards Someone.
But Someone couldn´t move.
Someone felt her freezing hands touching their arms.
Someone felt her breathing in their face.
Someone felt the blood on her hands staining their clothes.
Her mouth went close to their ears.
And without a notice, she screamed.
Her body moved on unholy speed towards the door. And with her toothless mouth she grinned before throwing Someone down the stairs.
Someone felt every single one of the steps crushing a part of their body.
Pam, Pam, Pam.
Without stopping the long fall, Someone started to break.
Pam, Pam, Pam.
Everything was smudged and everything hurt.
"ANYONE! HELP!" Someone thought to themselves, unable to scream it.
Pam, Pam, Pam.
Someone´s body was all red.
Pam, Pam.
PAM.
Someone reached the bottom.
Someone was falling unconscious.
Someone felt life going out of their body.
Someone exhaled for the last time.
But Someone isn´t death.
Because Someone hasn´t stopped dreaming.
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