Lock And Key Game Tasks

Task Five: The Feast of Blood and Gore

The other him growled, but it faded away. Sartan didn't turn around until he couldn't hear it anymore.

As he followed the hallway, he used his spear like a stick and pounded it against both walls. It didn't have any doors, and just seemed to continue on. At one point he came to a dead end, so he retraced his steps until he came to a different turn, one he hadn't taken before. It's a maze, but this time there are no doorways.

He tried to ignore the feelings of fear bubbling just beneath the surface. Whenever he managed to suppress his fear, his mind drifted to Sparrow, and then sorrow and guilt threatened to suffocate him.

He allowed the fear to settle in, churning his stomach. Why was he so afraid?

As he rounded another corner, there was another whoosh. The image of himself returned, but this time, the other Sartan was taller and larger than before.

"We never got to finish our last little chat," the voice from before stated.

Fear turned to ice in Sartan's stomach, freezing him. "What do you want?"

Other Sartan laughed. "What do I want? Let's see... I'm you. So the appropriate question is: what do you want?"

Sartan's heart pounded furiously in his chest. He clenched his fists tightly around the spear and the two crosses to hide the fact that his hands were trembling. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I want... I want..." His voice trailed off, and it shook, matching his shivering body.

Come on. I'm not afraid.... I am not afraid! No matter how hard he chanted it, or tried to tell himself otherwise, deep inside, he knew his words weren't true.

"You're afraid of us. Of what we are... What we will be..." The voice suddenly became closer to him. "I am here to make sure that we become the monster you've always been afraid of becoming." The words were a breath against his skin. Goosebumps appeared on his face and arms and the shivers increased.

Icy terror coursed through him. It embedded inside him, like little tiny shards, tearing him apart, shredding him piece by piece. His father's lessons were long gone, as was his sister's cheerful voice, and even Sparrow's frightened one...

Replaced by sheer terror.

Use the crosses... another, unfamiliar voice inside him reminded him. He placed one in the middle of the hallway. Without waiting to ensure that the voice disappeared, he dashed off down the hallway as fast as his legs could carry him. He panted, uncaring where he was going, as long as he escaped the other Sartan.

"You cannot escape me, Sartan," the voice said.

Sartan stopped short, seeing the image of himself standing in front of him. He was even larger now—almost twice Sartan's normal size. Without a moment of hesitation, Sartan placed the last cross in the way, and took off at another run.

Terror turned to horror and panic thudding through his veins, and as the image of himself appeared in his mind, his legs collapsed from underneath him.

Other Sartan stepped toward him, grinning. Sartan closed his eyes, wishing the image away, but distantly he knew since it was inside his mind, it wouldn't leave.

"I'm you, Sartan. The monster... the beast... the demon inside you. The killer. You're going to be my first kill. And once I'm done destroying you, I'm going to kill everyone else here. To kill you, I'm going to take your emotions, your empathy, your ability to think and feel... I'm going to take it all and burn it until there's nothing left but ash and blackness."

"No," Sartan moaned. "Please..."

Laughter rang in his ears. "Yes... Beg... Plead... Cry...Do you remember the last time you begged?"