Termino.
Geminus
--
He could see the ship. With every step, his hopes brightened. The ship would take him out of this netherworld. It was his portkey to normalcy.
He couldn’t believe his luck. Was the torment finally coming to an end? He turned around, time and again, half-expecting to see a severed hand closing in on him.
“The clouds are clearing up after all,” he mused.
No sooner had he thought so than strange wisps of white started to cloud his vision. The ship started fading away as thick fog engulfed the city. He could only see white.
It was strange, but… calming in a way.
Was it heaven?
The contours of a desolate mansion in the distance told him that it was probably not.
Hiro entered the mysterious mansion, gingerly making his way in through the door. In front of him was a narrow hallway with a long red carpet and an oakwood door at the end of it. The corridor was lit with dim Victorian-era lamps hanging off the ceiling, adding to the eerie atmosphere. After gathering some semblance of courage, Hiro stepped forward, his footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. Something about this place just doesn’t seem right, he thought to himself.
Suddenly, he heard a loud noise on the other side of the door. A shiver ran down Hiro’s spine.
A gunshot?
His curiosity prevailed over his instinct to run as he cautiously approached the door. The door was unlocked. On the other side, he saw one path which split in two different directions. He went through the left corridor, only to find one more fork split in the pathway.
This must be a maze, he thought to himself. As he turned back, the door was gone and was replaced by a maroon wall similar to the other walls in the labyrinth. As he tried to navigate his way through the maze, he heard another gunshot to his right. Determined to find out where this is coming from, he started running straight towards where the sound was coming from.
Left. Right. Straight. Left.
He finally made it into a large room with two people, one of them dead on the floor. Both of them were wearing a black trench coat and a mask, which looked like an Oni mask. The guy who wasn’t dead had a gun in his hand, his hands still shivering as he processed that he had just committed murder.
Hiro saw the gun and bolted in the opposite direction.
Why?! WHY?!
He wanted to get as far as possible from this killer, but what would be the use if he was just going to be trapped in this hellhole? He needed to find a way to get out of this maze. Somehow, anyhow.
As he was contemplating his long list of unfortunate encounters, he noticed a small shrine on his way to wherever “away from the killer” was supposed to be. The idol had a mask, lying on something black, with a note next to it. Hiro picked up the note and read what was written on it.
There is nothing that can be changed, not even fate. Those who are meant to die will die, and those who will lose in conflict, are bound to lose in conflict. Treat your life like a battleground. Treat your room like a battle map, but who shall be the last one standing? The one destined to die? Or the one who shall live?
Realization dawned upon Hiro. The only way I can secure my safety in this room is…if I’m the only one alive? He knew he had to take the life of this killer if he had to proceed through this room, but Hiro wasn’t a killer at heart… was this going to be an exception because he had to kill to preserve his own life?
He wore the mask and the black dress, which was similar to the trench coat which the killer he had previously encountered was wearing. The mask suddenly heightened his senses, improving his sense of smell and hearing tenfold, while the trench coat removed any sense of fatigue or pain that Hiro had been experiencing. He was able to pick up the scent of blood, which was probably emanating from the scene of murder.
He started to run towards this scent, following his instincts, like a wild animal on the hunt. He was able to pick up the faint smell of trench coat leather.
Hiro turned a corner to find the killer with a gun in his hand, facing him. His heart quickened and he tightened the grip on his gun. It was him, or him.
In the blink of an eye, they aimed their guns and started firing at each other, missing both of their first few shots. They ducked for cover. Six more bullets, all Hiro needed was one hit. They both started to take aim again, when Hiro heard a door opening and someone entering the room. The killer got distracted and Hiro seized this opportunity, took aim at his heart, and landed a direct hit on the killer.
Hiro’s hands started to shake from the recoil, or was it the adrenaline?
He looked up to find another person, who looked exactly like himself, standing, looking at him in horror.
It was at this moment that it hit him. The killer, the man who was lying dead on the floor, they were all him. He had just been experiencing things from a different perspective back then. The cycle had to be broken for Hiro knew he had to be the last person in the room, but for that…he’d have to kill this new version of him too.
Or… Hiro could kill himself, so only one person would be left in the room. But the idea seemed appalling. And outrageously daunting.
He shoots the version of himself that he is experiencing right now.
