After a moment of suffocating silence, the doll's voice returned—this time filled with glee, as if laced with childish pride:
"I won this round! I can not believe my joke made you both laugh!"
I froze at her words, stunned, as she continued in a voice of pure delight:
"As you know... I was joking when I said I would punish you if you did not laugh. One of the rules is that I can not hurt you—even if you do not laugh within the minute."
My breath caught in my chest.
So… it was just a joke?
She threatened us with death—as a joke?
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The very idea—that a creature would threaten us so brutally, only to later say it was all in jest—felt suffocating.
But...
Who's to say she's telling the truth this time?
What guarantees she's not preparing another twist, another surprise, or that she won't suddenly change the rules again whenever she pleases?
That creature isn't human.
She has no emotions we can trust. No logic we can lean on.
I was starting to spiral into a whirlwind of doubt and questions—until her voice suddenly sliced through my thoughts:
"In five seconds... round three will begin."
I swallowed hard. My body tensed instinctively, preparing for what was to come.
The five seconds passed.
Silence.
The doll didn't move. She didn't say a word after the countdown.
It was like she was watching us quietly, prolonging the moment on purpose—letting time hang—just to amplify the pressure building above our heads.
The room returned to its previous state.
Stifling silence. Complete, crushing darkness so dense you couldn't see your own hand in front of your face. Time felt as though it had stopped—or worse, slowed just to torment us.
I sat still. Unmoving. Barely breathing. Just enough to stay alive. Trying to ignore the pain taking root in my back and legs.
Ah… this is exhausting.
My back felt like it was carrying stones. My knees screamed in a voice that couldn't be heard.
But I held on.
I clung to my stillness like a lifeline dangling above a deep, black abyss.
Then... while I was drifting in that whirlpool of patience and pain—
Something happened.
Something I hadn't expected.
I felt… something touch my hair.
I froze completely.
A cold jolt shot down my spine, and a voice inside me screamed:
Darn... darn... darn!
Please…
Don't let it be what I think it is…
Anything.
Anything but that.
But…
The thing kept moving.
Slowly… it slid from the top of my head and began creeping toward my forehead.
I felt every hair on my body bristle.
It was moving like a tiny creeping insect… excruciatingly slow—like time itself wanted me to feel every second of its movement.
Ugh…
A gasp nearly escaped my lips—an instinctive desire to swat it away, to slap it, to know what it was… but I couldn't.
My hands were frozen. Any movement, any whisper, any reaction… could cost me my life.
The crawl was slow. Wet. Disgusting.
It felt like it had tiny legs… or tiny claws… or worse...
My eyes were wide open—yet I saw nothing.
Only felt.
And nothing is more terrifying than feeling something unknown crawling across your body, with no idea what it is.
I began to shake—internally.
I was close to breaking.
But I held on.
Hold on, I told myself. Hold on!
You have no choice. You're still inside the game. The doll is watching you. If you move now, you lose.
You must stay still.
Despite the goosebumps crawling across my skin.
Despite the unbearable urge to scream.
Despite that wretched thing...
It was a moment of pure terror—one that needed no sound, no visual.
Raw fear.
The kind born only when you can't even breathe freely.
Can I endure any more of this?
Can I make it?
I don't know...
But I know this round… may be the worst one yet.
---
But the horror wasn't over.
The thing crawling across my forehead didn't stop—it kept going... until it reached my nose.
I could feel its tiny movements as it crossed the skin above my nose with agonizing slowness, like it wanted to announce its presence with every disgusting limb.
Darn... just as I feared.
It was a bug.
A filthy, revolting, crawling, cold insect.
Imagine being in a pitch-black room—motionless, terrified to even blink—and something like this decides to make your face its playground.
I felt a powerful urge to throw up.
At that moment, I wished I could vomit everything I'd eaten since arriving in this world. Hunger or exhaustion wouldn't be what broke me—it would be this vile little thing crawling over my face.
My hands began to tremble. My knees too. I felt a shiver surge from my fingertips to my spine.
Everything inside me was on the verge of collapsing.
But I held on—or tried to, at least.
I started breathing slowly, trying to calm myself. I repeated to myself again and again:
Hold on… hold on… hold on…
You don't get to move.
Even the tiniest gesture could be seen as a violation of the round's rules… and that could cost you your life.
Seconds passed like centuries.
Every cell in my body begged me to do something. To scream. To swat my face. To run.
But I didn't move.
The only thing I could do… was repeat a single phrase in my mind—like a drowning man clinging to a final breath:
Please… please… please… let the ten minutes end soon…
And in the middle of that whirlwind of nausea, terror, and trembling...
I heard it.
That sound.
The same sound etched into my brain like a knife's repeated stab:
"Tring... tring..."
I froze.
Even the bug on my nose seemed to pause for a moment—or maybe it was just my mind playing tricks.
Then came the doll's voice—clear as ink scratched across a white page:
"It is time for the third person the bug landed on... to make me laugh."
Then she asked mockingly, as if she didn't already know the answer:
"Who is the person the bug landed on?"
My thoughts stopped cold.
I had completely forgotten about the laughing task...
My entire mind had been consumed by that repulsive insect.
How had she managed to completely divert my focus away from the rules—to that crawling horror on my face?
She stole my concentration… completely.
A brief moment passed—barely a second—but it felt like my brain scrambling to regain consciousness before I finally moved, driven more by fear than anything else.
I slapped my face lightly, trembling, brushing the insect away from the tip of my nose.
At the same time, my voice came out—broken, shaky, breathless:
"I… i-it was m-me… the bug landed on me!"
My voice didn't sound normal.
It was a mess of panic, disgust, and the inner breakdown I'd been trying to suppress for minutes.
Even the way I spoke was jumbled—my tongue tripping over its own terror as I tried to say the truth.
I'd identified myself.
Declared myself as the next victim in this sick round.
But inside… I was still stuck on the insect.
It felt like it hadn't left me. Like its crawl was still etched into my skin.
I lifted my eyes toward the darkness—unable to see anything—but I felt her presence.
The doll.
Watching.
Smiling.
Preparing.