"Henry… I think I'm pregnant…"
Elena whispered through tears, holding a pregnancy test while standing in the kitchen with Henry as he made a drink.
Her face was wet with tears.
She tried to wipe them away, but they kept falling.
Henry stayed silent for a long minute before quietly placing the mug on the counter and tsking as Elena's quiet sobs continued.
"I see."
Henry's voice was low and calm.
He walked past Elena quietly, leaving the house and making her let out a loud sob.
Henry clutched his head, grunting and groaning in pain.
His skull pulsed painfully.
"Henry… is that you?"
Heather asked as she slowly approached him.
She was still only in her underwear, shaking from the cold.
Henry took a step back in fear, slowly pointing at the knife in Heather's hand.
"Oh, this?"
Heather lifted the knife to face level.
"I have it to defend myself from these monsters… and if it gets too hard on me, you know…"
She shrugged as if it were a normal thing.
Henry shook his head before coughing up blood.
"You need a tongue. You really do."
Heather looked around the snowy fog, but nothing could be seen.
She whimpered nervously before suddenly running past Henry.
Henry stood there in shock before mustering enough strength to call out:
"H-Hey!"
He coughed up more blood, eventually falling to his knees and vomiting blood onto the snow.
His vision became unclear.
A loud whistle rang in his ears.
His body convulsed momentarily before he rolled onto his side in the snow, writhing from pain and coldness.
The image of Elena angry at him flashed through his mind.
A fierce feeling surged through his body, but he ignored it.
His body loosened.
His consciousness began slipping away.
Until finally—
steps were heard.
They got quicker and quicker.
A female voice called out:
"Henry! Henry!!"
Heather ran to him.
She crouched beside him, a tongue in her hand.
"Here… I'm here…"
She fed Henry the tongue.
He hesitantly swallowed it.
His body quickly healed, but he simply lay there in the snow.
"Why… why are you helping me…?"
Henry asked.
His tone was hopeless and empty.
Heather sat down in the snow.
"I just… don't wanna be alone. It's scary and cold out here. I hate being alone."
Her voice trembled and sounded hoarse, as if she had been crying.
"Is it?"
Henry muttered.
"It is."
Heather answered.
"Is it though? All these monsters and babies… I don't think they want to kill me."
Henry closed his eyes before burying his face in the snow.
"Henry… why are you here?"
Heather asked, her eyes welling with tears.
Henry pushed himself up from the ground, taking deep breaths before sitting upright.
"Why am I here…? Because I am?"
He clutched his head as Elena's voice calling his name rang through his ears.
"Henry… why?"
Heather asked again, choking down a sob.
"I…"
Henry paused before quickly rummaging through his pockets and pulling out a pill can labeled:
CYANIDE CAPSULES
He stared at it for a long time before whispering:
"I don't think Elena is here."
Henry looked down at the snow, grabbing a fistful.
"I think I'm here for something else."
Heather gasped softly and hid her face in fear.
"B-But what if she's here…?"
Henry froze.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Then I'll tell her that I love her. Maybe she's still waiting for me. Maybe… maybe not in this place."
He shook the can gently, the capsules rattling inside.
His finger barely opened the lid before he hummed softly and put the cyanide back into his pocket.
Then he stared at his hands.
"Heather… these hands. My hands… don't you think they're weird?"
Heather looked up and glanced at them before her eyes widened in horror.
His right hand was stained with blood.
His left hand was white with snow.
"My hands… they commit all sorts of different things. The kind and the evil."
He smiled faintly before giggling softly.
"Please stop…"
Heather begged.
Henry's giggle slowly died.
His eyes became empty again, though thoughtful.
"Why are you scared? Do you think I'm gonna hurt you or something?"
He asked without looking her in the eye.
"No… it's just… I feel like you're about to leave me here…"
A sob escaped her lips.
"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? To leave? To find Elena?"
Henry asked in confusion.
Heather stayed silent, sobbing quietly into her hands and quivering.
"Can you tell me where to go?"
Henry asked as he stood up from the ground.
Heather hesitated before pointing in a certain direction through the fog.
Henry nodded and started walking that way.
After a few steps, he paused.
"I think you're lying to me."
He turned around, his tone exhausted.
Heather scrambled to her feet, finally regaining balance.
The wind grew stronger.
"W-Why would you think that…?"
She asked while wiping tears from her face, one hand hidden behind her back.
"Because you're a coward."
Henry answered with certainty.
Heather ground her teeth together.
Her body tensed as she looked down, whimpering.
"Cowards are liars, aren't they?"
Henry muttered.
Suddenly Heather pulled her hidden hand forward—
holding the knife.
She screamed fiercely as she lunged toward Henry.
Henry gasped before firmly grabbing her wrists.
"Stop! Why are you doing this…?"
Henry kicked her away, taking several steps back.
Heather broke down into loud quick sobs.
Her body shook as she pressed the hand holding the knife against her chest.
"I… I can't let you leave…! I don't… I don't… wanna be alone!!"
She gasped between sobs.
"Heather…"
Henry slowly shook his head in concern.
"You can come with me."
Henry invited hesitantly.
Heather's head shot up, staring straight into Henry's eyes.
"Me? With… with YOU?!"
She cried out in fear.
"Yes—"
Henry tried to speak, but Heather interrupted him.
"I'm scared of what's down there! You… YOU scare me! YOU always hurt me!"
She stepped back, eyes red and puffy.
"Then how come you want me to stay with you?"
Henry asked as he slowly circled around her, the wind growing harsher.
Heather took deep breaths before whispering:
"Because I hate being alone…"
Her knees gave out beneath her.
"Look, Heather. I can't stay here. I have to go."
Henry shook his head tiredly.
Bags sat beneath his eyes.
His hair was messy.
His coat stained with blood.
Heather slowly dropped the knife into the snow.
"Even if that means I'm gonna die?"
Heather asked hopelessly.
"Yes."
Henry answered simply.
Heather looked up at him without fully meeting his gaze before lowering her head again.
"Can I ask you for a favor?"
Her voice was empty.
"Can you put snow on my face when I die? I bet I'll look horrible when dead."
Henry paused before silently nodding.
Heather slowly picked up the knife again and aimed it at her throat.
"I hope you find what you want to find down there."
She whispered before stabbing her own throat.
Blood splattered everywhere, staining the snow crimson before she collapsed onto her side with a soft thud.
Henry stared at the scene with little reaction.
Slowly he knelt beside her and straightened her body on the snow before carefully pulling the knife from her throat.
Then he grabbed some snow and gently covered her face completely.
"I hope so too."
He answered before taking her knife and standing up.
His hand twitched slightly.
Soon after, only a few steps away, an elevator emerged from the ground.
It opened slowly with a melodic ding.
The light from inside the elevator shined through the fog.
Henry approached it slowly before stepping inside and turning around.
There was only one button.
Red and glowing.
He pressed it.
The door closed.
Suddenly it became dead silent except for the calming elevator music as it descended.
The light flickered slightly before stabilizing.
Henry stood still for a long while before leaning against the wall, slowly closing his eyes and groaning in pain.
Images of Heather dead in the snow with blood pooling around her flashed through his mind.
The sound of Harry's blood splattering rang in his ears.
The thought of Truth made his skin crawl.
The lights flickered again.
The music cut out and returned.
Henry looked to the side and found a baby crib next to him.
It was empty.
He turned toward it.
Suddenly the lights went out.
The music died.
He couldn't see anything.
Only hear.
The sound of an infant crying loudly filled the space.
Henry covered his ears, but the sound still reached him.
He grunted and groaned.
Then the elevator started shaking violently.
Henry heard punching and slamming against steel.
Finally the lights and music returned.
Henry cautiously uncovered his ears and looked around.
The elevator walls were now stained with a horrific amount of blood.
He looked to the side.
The baby crib was completely filled with blood.
His heart pounded in his chest.
His throat tightened.
He started taking deep breaths.
Finally the elevator doors opened slowly.
Revealing the hotel's reception.
The reception was warmly lit.
Quiet.
Henry stepped out into it, slowly turning his head as he observed the place.
A calming looping melody played softly.
He stood still facing the reception counter.
There were no strange noises anymore.
Suddenly Henry began vomiting.
He braced himself against the counter as his body convulsed violently.
After a while the vomit turned red with blood as he retched.
When he was done, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve before standing upright.
Then—
he slowly closed his eyes and began slamming his fists against the wooden reception counter while screaming.
His knuckles turned bloody red.
Still he kept smashing.
After a while he stopped.
His eyes completely empty.
His mind detached.
He lay flat on his back on the floor, staring at the ceiling and listening to the music.
He imagined Elena lying next to him.
His hand traveled to his cheek, caressing it gently.
His cheek twitched.
He rolled his head to the side, eyes glistening with tears.
"Why… why am I such a crybaby? Why do I keep crying?"
His tears started falling freely.
"It's not like she's dead… is she?"
He rolled his head back toward the ceiling before covering his face with his hands.
Sobs escaped his lips.
His body trembled from every cold breeze.
"My god…"
His hands crawled upward to clutch his aching head.
Images flashed through his mind:
Elena sitting on the bed.
Her hand resting on her stomach.
He couldn't remember her expression clearly.
"Are you just going to sit there?"
A recognizable voice came from behind the counter, making Henry flinch.
He slowly opened his eyes and stood up.
Rubbing them to see clearly—
he saw a man standing behind the counter.
Wearing the same clothes as Henry.
With the same voice.
The same face.
A clone.
"Wh-Who are you?"
Henry asked cautiously.
The man smiled politely.
"I'm Henry Ashford. I am you."
His tone was calm and unfazed.
Henry stood frozen in shock.
He gulped.
"You're looking for our wife, aren't you?"
The clone asked.
Henry slowly nodded.
The clone chuckled.
"Look around, Henry. Isn't this hotel amazing?"
The clone looked around admiring the place.
Henry stared directly at him.
"Wanna hear something weird? This place is said to bring a person's sins to life."
The clone's tone became serious.
"All these monsters… they're you. You made them exist. You needed them, Henry."
Henry shook his head.
"No."
"Yes."
"NO!"
Henry shouted, taking a step back.
"I just… want to find my wife… I have nothing to do with any of this…"
Henry's eyes avoided the clone's.
"But you do have something to do with it."
The clone answered.
"You're the one who promised… you're the one who ran away… you're the one who's always afraid."
Henry kept shaking his head.
His heart pounded in his chest.
Sweat rolled down his forehead.
"Why are you still running away, huh? Once a coward, always a coward, right?"
Henry grabbed his head and cried out in pain as it became unbearable.
"Say it, Henry."
The clone walked around the counter and grabbed Henry's coat.
His hand found a specific pocket.
He pulled out the bottle of cyanide.
"This."
He lifted it toward Henry.
Henry kept shaking his head fearfully while stepping back.
"Henry…"
The clone breathed shakily.
"Just fucking say it!"
He shouted, grabbing Henry roughly by the collar.
"You know what you did… You just have to say it. But no… you'd rather stay in this nightmare."
The clone pointed upward.
The ceiling planks began falling.
The walls deteriorated.
The reception became ruined.
"Please stop…"
Henry whispered.
"No, I won't. Not until you say it."
The clone slapped him.
Henry stared at the ground, breathing quickly.
His jaw trembled.
The clone watched Henry hesitate before kicking him hard in the stomach, sending him to the floor.
"You just won't say it, huh?"
The clone stepped forward and started kicking him repeatedly.
Henry tried crawling away, but the clone grabbed a wooden plank and smashed it across Henry's back.
Henry cried out in pain.
"Well guess what, Henry. You're not getting outta here until you kill me."
The clone panted heavily.
Henry slowly stood up.
His legs shook.
He spat blood onto the floor.
His eyes burned with a fierce feeling the clone couldn't recognize.
His head pulsed painfully.
Images of Elena kept flashing before him.
Her voice rang in his ears.
Henry closed his eyes.
He imagined Elena hugging him.
Whispering comforting words into his ear.
Then he opened them.
"I…"
His jaw trembled.
"I killed Elena…"
He collapsed to his knees as he said it, vomiting more blood.
The clone slowly approached him.
"Yeah. You did."
The clone kicked Henry in the face, knocking him onto his back before immediately straddling him and punching him over and over.
Blood splattered everywhere.
Henry cried out.
"You killed your wife! You deserve every single bit of pain, you fucking pig!"
The clone screamed while tears streamed from his eyes.
Finally he stopped.
"Why did you do it…? Aren't you supposed to be a man and take responsibility? Not make a promise and break it… Now it's too late to go back. You were supposed to die! You… you took advantage of her…"
The clone sobbed while mouthing the words:
I loved her.
Henry stayed quiet, breathing heavily through the blood in his throat.
"I'm sorry…"
Henry whispered.
"But she's dead."
Henry muttered weakly before mustering all his strength to shove the clone off him.
Surprisingly—
the clone offered no resistance.
He curled up on the floor sobbing softly.
Henry stood up slowly as the looping music continued.
He looked to the side and found a huge axe lying on the ground.
Henry grabbed it.
His whole body shook as he struggled to lift it.
The pain in his head was finally gone.
The only sounds were the clone's desperate sobs and the music.
Henry paused.
The axe trembling in his hands.
He looked up at the ceiling for a long moment.
His expression unreadable.
Then—
he swung.
The axe severed the clone's head.
Blood pooled across the ground.
Henry dropped the axe.
Something shiny appeared in the clone's throat.
An exit key.
Henry crouched to retrieve it.
He opened his mouth as if to say something—
but stopped himself.
Then he stood and approached the door.
He took a deep breath before opening it.
Beyond was a long dark hallway with light at the very end.
Henry limped toward it.
The door closed behind him.
As soon as it did, a familiar voice echoed around him.
Elena.
"It's okay, Henry. Please don't be so sad that I'm gone. I'm still here with you. Maybe not really, but I am.
I know I died and I know why I died. But just know that it was my decision. You wanted us to die together and I agreed.
I understand you got scared of death. Anyone would be. But I had no regrets.
Because of you, Henry.
I really wanted to be loved. I'm not really that good of a person, neither physically nor mentally, so I never thought I'd get married.
But you came into my life. You told me that I'm the prettiest and kindest woman ever.
And I believed you.
Because I love you so much.
Even though you get mad easily and sometimes let out your anger on me, I forgave you because I understand.
I always did.
I'll miss your laugh. Your looks at me when I do something silly. Your humor. I'll miss all of that. I'll miss you.
So I'm gonna be a little selfish now.
Please remember me, Henry. Bring me roses like you always did. I love them.
Please miss me, Henry.
Please talk to me about your day and complain like you always did while I was alive.
I promise I'll comfort you one way or another.
And that's all, Henry. I hope you can forgive yourself just like I do.
Goodbye, Henry. I love you."
Henry was on his knees just before the light.
His face was drenched in tears.
Snot ran from his nose as he tried desperately to suppress his sobs.
He kept wiping his tears away, but they never stopped.
Eventually he stood.
He took one step forward—
and then there was only bright light.
Nothing else.
Then Henry woke up in bed.
In his home.
He slowly sat up.
Heavy bags rested beneath his empty eyes.
He looked to the side.
Elena was there.
Dead.
Henry extended a hand and checked her pulse.
Nothing.
Her body was cold.
Dogs barked outside while rain struck the ground.
Henry looked to the other side and found cyanide capsules resting on the bedside counter.
They had both gone to sleep.
Only one woke up.
Henry stood.
He wrapped Elena gently in the blanket and carried her outside to the car.
He placed her in the back seat and drove away.
Now he was digging a hole in the dirt to bury her.
His eyes were devoid of emotion.
When he finished, he carefully lowered her body into the grave.
He stared at her face for a long moment.
His breathing grew heavier.
His throat tightened.
So he quickly covered her with dirt.
Then walked away.