"and you better stay clever if you wanna survive"

The silence of the night was shattered by a blood-curdling scream that tore through Sameer's restless sleep. He bolted upright, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. The scream had seemed to come from his parents' room, a jarring intrusion into the oppressive quiet. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the terror that had jolted him awake.

As he stumbled toward the door, the oppressive silence was interrupted only by his own erratic breathing. Relief flickered briefly as he heard nothing more, but it was quickly extinguished when he saw the dark streak of blood seeping from beneath his parents' door. His stomach lurched, and the sharp tang of fear filled his mouth. The sight confirmed his worst fears: something catastrophic had happened.

With a surge of panic, Sameer raced to his sister's room. He found her sleeping soundly, completely oblivious to the horror unfolding just a few rooms away. His hands were unsteady as he inserted the key and locked her inside her room, his heart aching with the knowledge that he had to protect her from whatever lay beyond.

He placed a phone and a sticky note with emergency numbers by her bedside, a desperate attempt to ensure her safety. The note trembled in his shaking hands, each movement a reminder of the nightmare he was about to confront. His final act of protection done, he turned his attention back to the source of the screams.

The house felt like a tomb as he approached his parents' room, every creak of the floorboards amplifying his dread. There was a heavy obstruction against the door, a grim confirmation of the scene that lay behind it. Summoning every ounce of courage, Sameer pushed the door open. It groaned in protest, revealing a sight so horrific it seemed to warp reality itself.

The room was a scene of pure, unrelenting violence. His mother's lifeless body lay sprawled on the floor, her eyes wide open in a grotesque, vacant stare. The bloodstained weapon that had ended her life was clutched in his father's limp, trembling hand. His father himself lay sprawled on the floor, an expression of shock frozen on his face, a testament to the unimaginable act he had just committed.

Sameer's legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed beside his mother's body. The reality of the scene was suffocating. Tears streamed down his face as he reached out to close his mother's unseeing eyes, his hands trembling uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Mom," he whispered through his tears, his voice breaking with the weight of his grief. "You deserved so much better. I hope you find peace and a kinder fate in the next life."

The room was filled with the sound of his anguished sobs, each cry echoing off the cold, empty walls. Sameer's grief was palpable, a physical presence that seemed to press down on him, making it hard to breathe. He clung to his mother's body, the coldness of her skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his tears.

As he held her, the silence of the house was punctuated only by his heart-wrenching cries and the distant, eerie creaks of the house settling. The enormity of his loss was overwhelming, and the reality of his father's actions left him with an aching void that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Sameer remained there, enveloped in his sorrow, the night stretching before him like an unending chasm. The darkness seemed to press in around him, amplifying his isolation and despair. The cruel reality of his situation, the sudden, brutal loss of his mother, and the emptiness left in the wake of his father's final act of violence created a tableau of despair that seemed to consume him entirely.

CHAPTER 3 | REFLECTIONS IN RUINS

[Yoona is narrating...]

I jolted awake, the sharp, agonizing pain in my back pulling me from what felt like an eternity of sleep. My body throbbed as if I'd been hurled from a great height and landed hard on unforgiving ground. Blinking rapidly to clear my vision, I found myself sprawled on a cracked and desolate street. The city around me was a wasteland, a ghostly testament to some cataclysmic event that had erased its life.

The sky overhead was a bleak expanse of gray, and the remnants of once-bustling buildings loomed like skeletal remains against the horizon. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the faint whisper of wind through the debris. I struggled to my feet, my clothes— a short and a top—were torn and stained with blood and grime, clinging to me with each movement. The state of my attire only heightened my sense of disorientation.

I stumbled through the rubble-strewn streets, calling out, but my voice seemed to vanish into the vast emptiness. The city was utterly lifeless. It felt as though I was the last person on Earth, surrounded by a void that swallowed every sound and sight.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement. I spun around, my heart racing. Standing a few yards away was a woman, her beauty striking against the backdrop of destruction. But as I drew closer, a chilling realization dawned on me—she was a mirror image of myself. Her movements, her gestures, every nuance was a perfect reflection of my own.

Confusion gripped me. The woman mirrored my every action with eerie precision, and as I moved, so did she. The similarity was unsettling, and I could see that even the blood and tears on our clothes were identical. It was as if I was looking at a reflection of my own despair.

"What is this?" I whispered, my voice trembling as I reached out towards her. She mirrored the motion exactly. The more I tried to understand, the more I felt like I was sinking into a nightmare.

The emptiness of the city only heightened my sense of isolation. There were no signs of life anywhere, just the echo of my own footsteps and the haunting presence of my doppelgänger. The absence of any living soul made the silence feel suffocating, and the sight of my own reflection only deepened the eerie sensation that I was not alone, even if I couldn't see anyone else.

I sank to my knees, overwhelmed by a wave of despair. My tears mingled with the dirt on my face as I cried out into the void, "Where am I? Why is this happening?"

In that desolate moment, the memories of the old storage house, the cursed game, and the inexplicable journey that led me here flooded back. The sense of unease and fear surged within me, but beneath it all was a steely resolve. I had to face whatever lay ahead in this strange, ruined world if I wanted to find any answers and, hopefully, find my sister.

With a deep breath, I pushed myself to my feet, the weight of my own reflection pressing heavily on my shoulders. I had to uncover the truth of this place, no matter how frightening or surreal it might be.

The eerie silence of the desolate city was abruptly disturbed by a massive wave of dust rolling toward me. I squinted against the gritty haze, my heart pounding as the swirling cloud of debris approached with menacing speed. Panic surged through me, and I stumbled backward, trying to escape the engulfing storm.

In the midst of the dust storm, a voice cut through the chaos, commanding and emotionless. "miss Scarlett!"

I froze, my breath caught in my throat. The voice, oddly calm and devoid of warmth, seemed to come from within the dense dust. Whirling around, I strained to see through the haze.

As the dust began to settle, an unsettling sight emerged. A man and a woman on a battered motorcycle appeared from the swirling cloud. They were heavily armed, their weapons clinking ominously with each movement. Their expressions were eerily blank, and their eyes hidden behind dark goggles and face coverings.

My instincts screamed danger. The motorcycle, adorned with scavenged gear and tools, looked both formidable and intimidating. 

Were they here to harm me? Was this part of the game's cruel design?