Nine felt lightheaded, disoriented, as though she had been torn from a dream—no, a nightmare. But the memories… Whose memories were these? She couldn't understand. The woman—the mother—was she connected to her? Or was this something else entirely? Something darker? The Demon. The Polish soldier. The memories of war. Each step she took felt heavier, more deliberate. She reached a corner, her eyes flicking back toward the distant end of the hall where shadows flickered in the light of the dim hallway lamps.
When she reached Dr. Fujino's office, she hesitated. Her hand hovered above the doorknob, but she couldn't bring herself to touch it.
Not yet. There was something... something pulling her inside. Something she couldn't deny.
"Dr. Fuji..." she whispered, her voice barely a sound.
Her hand finally turned the knob, and the door creaked open slowly, painfully slow, like it knew what she would find inside.
The room was dark, the only light coming from the dim glow of the small, dim lamp on his desk.
And then, she saw him.
Dr. Fujino's body was sprawled across the floor, unnatural in its position. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. The blood was still pooling beneath him, a dark stain spreading across the floor. The smell of blood was thick in the air, sharp and metallic, like the taste of fear itself. The gunshot wound was clear—his body sprawled in an unnatural way, his hand still partially extended, as if reaching for something that wasn't there. Nine stumbled back, her knees buckling under her. Her breath hitched, but the scream she wanted to release died in her throat. Her hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle it.
Dr. Fujino... dead.
The gunshot. It had come from here. Her mind refused to make sense of it. She didn't understand why, how, or who. But there was no escaping the truth. The demon had come. The thing in the shadows—the thing she couldn't see—had come. And it had already claimed someone.
Her mind was a blur. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. The room spun around her, the blood soaking into her shoes, her nightgown clinging to her skin. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Dr. Fujino, the man who had always been kind, who had looked after them—he couldn't be dead.
But he was.
The gunshot. It had been real. And it had brought this. With one last terrified glance at Dr. Fujino's body, Nine turned and fled from the room. Her bare feet slapped against the cold floor, her chest heaving as she ran. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't know where she could hide. But she was running. As fast as her legs would carry her. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it.
The Demon... The… Soldier… The… Soldier… The devil himself…
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. The closet room, just ahead, its door slightly ajar. The faintest hint of light spilling out from the crack.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up, She didn't want to look. She didn't want to see what was inside. But something in her, pulled her closer to it.
She reached for the door, her fingers brushed against the cold metal of the handle, and for a moment, she hesitated. The room was too still, too quiet. She didn't want to know what was behind it. But she knew she had no choice. She pushed the door fully open.
Ten. Hello. You little Demon.
The long, empty room stretched out before There was nothing here but her and Ten—just the two of them, alone in the dark. The faint light from the hallway filtered through the door, casting long shadows.
Ten was standing in the middle of the dark room, his figure barely outlined in the dim light. His eyes glinted in the shadows, cold and unfathomable. His hand was still gripping the gun, his posture relaxed as if it were nothing more than a toy. His face was almost expressionless, but the chill in his gaze—the same unblinking, unwavering stare—sent a wave of dread crashing through Nine's chest. She took a step back, her heart in her throat, but her legs wouldn't let her run. She was rooted to the spot.
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Then Ten spoke, his voice soft, almost lulling in its calmness.
"The demon," he began, as if he were telling a bedtime story. His words were slow and deliberate, but there was something unsettling in his tone. "The Polish soldier came to visit."
Nine didn't understand. She couldn't. She couldn't understand.
"The demon," Ten repeated, almost like a child recounting a secret. "The demon said the world would end soon… And you and I... We're the only ones who will witness it. Together."
Nine's hand shook as she reached out to touch a wall that was far too away to reach, she quickly put her arm down once she realized the wall was out of reach. She couldn't steady her mind.
The words, his words, tangled in her head. The gun in his hand, so casually held. Dr. Fujino's body. The blood. The demon. The end of everything. And Ten—the one she had once trusted—was now something else entirely. Nine couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't scream. Because she knew, deep down, that the demon had already come. And they were its witnesses. Nine's hands trembled at her sides, but she couldn't look away. She spoke.
Her voice was small, fragile, barely above a whisper.
"You killed."
"Do you feel it, Nine?" Ten's voice was a whisper, low and deliberate. "The weight of the world is shifting. It's happening, and we're right here at the center of it all."
Nine could barely bring herself to look at him, but she did. She wanted to scream, to run, but her body refused to obey.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Ten continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "Everything that's happening it's like... a symphony, and we're the only ones who truly understand the music. The Polish soldier... You know he came here to see us, right?" He stepped forward, "It's simple. We just have to watch. We'll be the only ones left. The only ones who get to see it. You, me, and the end. The end of everything. The beautiful end." You, me, and the end…. What did that mean? Little Nine had no idea…
He stepped closer, something about his calmness made the terror burn hotter inside her. There was something that felt too old for his childlike body. Every movement he made seemed to have purpose, every word carefully chosen.
And then, just as quickly as the silence had descended, it shattered.
Ten's eyes flickered with something like amusement.
"Oh? Are you scared?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharper, as though he had just noticed her fear. "Is it because of this?"
The weapon was released from his hands, hitting the floor between the two children.
"I thought you might be scared," Ten said, his tone oddly sympathetic, as though trying to soothe her. "Go on. Pick it up. Pick it up and don't be scared."
"N-no-" Nine muttered.
"Pick it up, Nine," Ten whispered, his voice soft but insistent. "Go on, pick it up. Don't be scared."
Her hands shook violently as she stared at the gun. Her mind screamed no, but her body didn't listen. Slowly, as though possessed, her fingers trembled toward the cold metal, and with a swift motion, she grabbed it. The weight of it was too much. Too real.
"Good," Ten whispered, his lips curling in a smile. "Now... point it at me."
"W-What?" She stuttered quietly. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
"You heard me," he said, his voice colder now, more insistent. "Point it at me. End it all. You can stop the demon Nine. The Mother wanted to see the end with her son. She wanted him to live. But what is the end? Death? The rip?"
He pointed at his head, the gesture casual, as if it were nothing more than a game.
Nine's hands were shaking uncontrollably, her legs weak beneath her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him. This isn't real. But it was. The gun was real. His voice was real. And then, slowly, she realized—he wasn't playing. He wasn't joking. He wanted her to do it. She was the one who had to pull the trigger. She glanced down at the gun in her hands, her fingers twitching, not sure if she could even hold it steady. Ten was watching her, his gaze unwavering.
"Don't be scared," he whispered. "Once the demon is killed, the soldier can see the end. Run for him. Run away from here. Take the gun, and run."
Nine felt a tear slip down her cheek. Her entire body trembled. She squeezed her eyes shut, the cold barrel of the gun still pressed to her hand.
She had no choice, but she didn't know how to do this. She couldn't let him kill.
No. I don't want this. I don't want this.
The words spun in her mind, and then the tears came faster. One minute. Two minutes. It felt like an eternity. And then, through the blurry veil of her fear and tears, Nine's hand moved. She lifted the gun, shaking, her vision swimming. Her legs felt like they were made of stone.
Trembling, she pointed the gun at his head, the cold metal searing against her palm.
"Good girl," Ten whispered, his voice like a dark lullaby. "Now pull the trigger."
Nine's sobs were loud, desperate, her body shaking, but she couldn't stop her hand. She couldn't stop herself. With one final, gut-wrenching cry, her finger tightened on the trigger. Her eyes narrowed, losing their sparkly ocean blue.
The sound of the shot was deafening.
The echoes of the gunshot still ringing in her ears, along with the voice of Ten.
"Run away from here. Take the gun, and run." Ten had said before Nine had pulled the trigger.
There. I did it. For you, Dr. Fujino.
Thank you for your time.
I'd better go now.