QiLeren wasted no time in the face of such danger, turning on his heels with a yell of “Run!” before bolting down the hallway, Dr Lu hot on his heels after a momentary second of mind blank and a bit of pathetic screaming. The fact that they had weapons was completely ignored in favour of blind fear and the need to get away.
As a male who looked young enough to be jailbait with physical coordination that put the word ‘poor’ to shame, Dr Lu was predictably the one to trip over thin air. Just as he prepared for his painful demise, their pursuer rushed past him without a second glance.
The floored person stared uncomprehendingly at the sight of QiLeren disappearing into the corridor, followed by the murderer with his chainsaw.
Did he just somehow survive this ordeal?
On the other side, QiLeren was having decidedly less luck; in fact, it was possibly the worst situation he had ever experienced, with his life riding on the line between life and death. The murderer was catching up at an alarming rate, but QiLeren actually found himself growing calmer with each thump of the footsteps that drew closer and closer. How was he to survive a cold, ruthless killer who revelled in the very act of slaughter? Was there anything he could use to…?
A lightbulb flickered to life within QiLeren’s mind – Law of S/L!
He could see the emergency exit not far ahead and an office not ten metres away with its door left ajar, at the entrance of which he left a save point – a translucent totem placed down with a mere thought. Without stopping, he made a sharp turn into the emergency exit on his left.
[S/L skill countdown:]
9
QiLeren skidded to a stop, righting his body.
8
He gripped the crowbar now in his hands.
7
Sounds of the murderer’s bloodthirsty pursuit could now be heard thundering at the entrance of the exit.
6
QiLeren swung the crowbar downwards with a shout, tripping the murderer.
5
The murderer tipped forwards, swinging his chainsaw clean through QiLeren’s right arm and sending the crowbar flying.
4
3
QiLeren struggled to sit up in the midst of his agony, experiencing a sudden burst of strength in his last seconds of life.
2
The murderer pushed himself into a kneeling position from his previous sprawl on the ground, launching himself at QiLeren with no shortage of malice.
1
QiLeren bared his neck, meeting the blade–
It was as if he’d detached himself from the world in the second before death, all senses of pain abandoned; a spray of dull crimson spewed from his artery and splattered onto the macabre face inches away from his, coating the murderer’s twisted, demonic features in a blaze of scarlet.
[Fatal wound experienced within 10 second(s). Save file loaded successfully.]
QiLeren lost consciousness.
……
……
……
The moment seemed to both stretch on into infinity and pass by in a blink. His restored right arm throbbed with phantom pain at the terror of chainsaws and flesh still fresh in his mind, sleeve reattached and clean of any bloodstains. QiLeren stood absently in the halfway open doorway of the office, less than ten metres away from the murderer still at the corner.
He didn’t know if his corpse was still lying in its own puddle of blood or if it’d disappear as he reverted back to the version of himself ten seconds prior. If it was the latter…then the danger was not yet over.
QiLeren pushed open the door at the sound of footsteps echoing in the emergency exit without hesitation, ducking into the office. It was too late to run and this branchless hallway would give him away in an instant, even without accounting for the sounds.
Words cannot describe how much QiLeren regretted his action as soon as he pushed open the door – the traitorous, seemingly normal door let out a quiet creak. It was very soft, but not soft enough to be completely inaudible from the emergency exit in the stifling silence. He didn’t want to think about whether or not the murderer had heard the sound.
The regret burned. This scenario was insanely similar to when he huddled under the reception desk, desperately praying for the murderer to pass him by, right down to the foreboding dread he currently felt in the pit of his stomach.
The office was very cramped, containing nothing but two desks and a closet. QiLeren looked around before carefully opening the closet door; it was completely empty and big enough to fit an adult. He climbed in and closed the doors behind him. A sliver of light sneaked through the gap between them, too thin to peer into the outside. He could hear his frantic breathing and heartbeat, still on edge.
The S/L countdown timer had already reached zero – it was now too late to load a save. Each save can be used three times successively, but the skill will go into cooldown if he misses any one of them.
The save had failed. QiLeren had nothing left but to pray.
Heavy footsteps approached the office, the screeching of metal against flooring accompanying it – he was most likely dragging the deactivated chainsaw behind him. His steps were slow and careful, carrying with it a sense of confusion and hesitation.
Leave, please leave quickly. QiLeren couldn’t help but clasp his hands together in a show of desperation, praying for the murderer’s departure.
As with Murphy’s law, anything that can go wrong will go wrong – the footsteps stopped, and with it, QiLeren’s heart. He listened to the soft creak of the office doors as it was pushed open, dully answering his own question from before – yes, the murderer had indeed heard the sound.
The murderer’s steps were still sluggish, chainsaw carelessly dragging behind him and shrieking like nails on chalkboard. Amidst the sound of approaching death, pupils contracting with panic, QiLeren recalled that he had merely watched as the chainsaw ripped through his neck; in the blur of crimson, his pain was insignificant. What he remembered deeply was instead the stench – a repulsive, rotten stench of copper.
The chilling memory was only a few seconds long but it was as if time had slowed down, allowing the scene to be captured by his eyes and branded into his mind for all of eternity.
He could smell that stench right now, accompanying the footsteps that had just stopped outside the closet.
QiLeren found himself unable to breathe through the harsh drumming of his heart. The sliver of light was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by the shadow of his fragile mortality. The murderer was standing right outside the closet, the two separated by no more than a thin wooden board.
QiLeren could see the murderer’s eyes in his mind – twisted, inhuman and bloodthirsty with the excitement of a predator who had just caught his prey, but at the same time suspicious, for QiLeren’s disappearance was inconceivable by science.
The chainsaw was switched on with a roar, destroying QiLeren’s last hope. He was to die here, throat slit with a chainsaw – or perhaps worse, like the corpse in the infusion hall with its stomach sliced open. It’d be a slow and painful death, organs slipping out of the gaping wound one by one as he’d struggle and scream and crawl and beg until his inevitable death. The dark thoughts chipped away at his sanity in a way that threatened to snap if it were given a bit more time.
Perhaps it was due to the mercy of the gods or mere coincidence, but it was at this very second that a terrified scream erupted in the staircase nearby, “Aaaaahhhhhh- There’s a ghost!”
The murderer pushed open the office doors and charged towards the scream with large strides, taking with him the whirring of his chainsaw. QiLeren remained curled inside the closet for a few more seconds until the screams increased in intensity, upon which he threw himself out of the closet and fled unsteadily from the staircase.
The sounds of pained agony grew distant, or perhaps weaker, until he could hear them no longer.