The second I heard that monstrous roar, I didn't waste a breath. I ran. I ran like hell, the pounding of hooves behind me shaking the floor, rattling my bones. "Shit, shit, shit!" I gasped, glancing over my shoulder. The bull creature was right there, horns lowered, eyes burning with rage.
I bolted for the elevator—the only way out of this nightmare. "Come on, come on!" I muttered, fumbling for the key I'd found earlier. My hands were slick with sweat and blood, but I managed to jam the key into the lock. Just as I was about to hit the button, a shriek split the air.
"No, not now!" I groaned.
The ghost woman—the ugly, screaming banshee—appeared out of nowhere. Her hands shot out, grabbing me by the collar and yanking me off my feet. "Let go!" I shouted, kicking and flailing, but she was impossibly strong. She slammed me into the wall, then the floor, then the ceiling, tossing me around like a ragdoll. My vision blurred, pain exploding in every nerve.
She finally dropped me on the upper floor, and I hit the ground hard, coughing and gasping for air. "Goddamn it," I wheezed, trying to push myself up. My whole body felt like it was on fire.
But there was no time to rest. The bull was coming, smashing its way up the stairs, snorting and bellowing. The floor shook with every step. "You've got to be kidding me!" I yelled, scrambling to my feet and limping down the hallway.
I could hear the bull's voice, deep and guttural, echoing behind me. "RUN, LITTLE MAN. RUN WHILE YOU CAN."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm running!" I shouted back, half-crazed with fear and pain. "You want me? Come and get me, you steakhouse reject!"
I darted through the corridors, heart pounding, lungs burning. Every corner I turned, I expected to see another monster, another nightmare. But all I saw was the elevator, waiting at the end of the hall like a promise of salvation.
I slammed the key into the lock, twisted it, and jabbed the button. The elevator doors slid open with a ding. "Yes! Yes!" I cheered, stumbling inside. "Screw you all, I'm out of here!"
But as the doors opened, my victory died in my throat. The doctor was waiting inside, scalpel in hand, eyes gleaming with madness.
"Going somewhere, Itsumi?" he sneered.
Before I could react, he plunged the scalpel into my stomach. I gasped, doubling over, blood pouring through my fingers. The doctor laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "You really thought you could escape? Pathetic."
I staggered back, clutching my wound. The bull was behind me now, filling the hallway with its massive bulk. It grabbed me by the head, its grip like iron, and slammed me into the wall. Once. Twice. Again and again, until my vision went black and red and nothing made sense anymore.
"Stop… please…" I mumbled, but the bull didn't care. It lifted me by the back and legs, bending me until I heard a sickening crack. Pain exploded through my spine, and then—nothing. Just emptiness.
I was dead. I had to be. My body was limp, useless, my mind floating somewhere far away. I felt the bull drag me to a metal hatch, shove me through like garbage. I tumbled down a twisting chute, bouncing off the walls, my camera still clutched in my broken hand. I hit the bottom with a bone-shattering thud.
Is this it? Is this really the end? I wondered, drifting in a sea of white. There was nothing here—no pain, no monsters, no screams. Just me, alone, and a single, blinding light.
Maybe this was heaven. Maybe it was hell. Maybe it was just nothing.
I stared into the light, waiting for whatever came next.