12 - Knives

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      "K-knives," you say shakily, deciding that it could just be a scary name and the others are probably the most dangerous ones.
     The black lipped smile on her face seems to grow even more wide, the sides of her lips nearly reaching her ghostly grey ears.
     "My favorite!" she squeals.
     Her reaction chills your bones, and you feel right away that you've made the wrong choice. Suddenly, the room lights up brighter, a few candelabras around the room igniting seemingly on their own. Your companion is flung across the room. Her back slams into the hard wooden wall. Straps appear and clasp on her wrists, ankles, and neck so that she's unable to move. She screams and whines, but there's nothing you can do to help her. You're rooted to your spot by some magical force. A table appears out of thin air beside you. On top of the table are five very sharp knives.
     "Rules! Throw the knives at your friend. If you miss, you will feel the cut instead. If you hit her, of course, she will take the pain instead. If one of you doesn't die, you'll both die. If only one dies, the other makes it out alive!" She laughs like a loon and your stomach twists.
     "I can't...do that. That's messed up," you say.
     A timer pops up above your companion's head and starts ticking loudly.
     "Time is wasting," the creepy woman says, completely indifferent to your plight.
     You don't know this girl very well, but she got you out of that trunk and she's helped you out a lot so far. Her worried eyes are hard to look at. She thinks you're going to aim for her for sure. Would she aim for you if she were in this position? Maybe, but that doesn't matter. Your decision is what you have to pay for. And you want to live.
     You throw the knife, honestly trying to hit her. You're aiming for her chest so it'll be quick at least, but you totally miss and the knife sticks straight into the wall. You scream as a gash magically slits across your chest. It's deep enough to need stitches, but not so deep that it goes through to the bone or cartilage. It burns and stings like a hundred sunburns, bringing tears to your eyes.
     "Oh, ho! Aiming for the heart, were you?" the woman teases. "You've got more spunk than I gave you credit for! Have another shot!"
     "Please!" shouts your companion. "Please, don't hurt me!"
     Her cry doesn't make you sad. Instead, it makes you angry. You've got a huge gash in your chest now and it hurts like hell. She saw that! How can she beg you to do this to yourself again? You pick up the knife by it's thick red handle and flip it around to hold the cold blade. Then you let it fly right toward her head.
     It grazes her cheek and then sticks through her ear, pinning it to the wall. Droplets of blood hit the floor. Your chest already feels less stingy.
     "No-o-o-o," she cries.
     The creepy woman squeals and claps. You take another knife and send it soaring through the air, aiming for her chest again, now that you think you've got a better feel of the weight and can control it. It buries into her shoulder and she screams.
     "Be-be careful," she says panting. "He'll get you, if you don't know where he hides."
     You were midway to picking up another knife when she tells you this. It catches your attention and you stop.
     "The dead meat man," she pants. "in-in the ha-at."
     "She's lying! Pay no mind. Keep to the game!" the woman shouts.
     You startle. Sure. That's what she's doing. Trying to distract you. Well it's not going to work. You pick up the knife and fling it. It buries deep into the girl's chest. Her eyes go wide. Her mouth is in the shape of a silent scream. Then she slumps over. Still. The only sound is the dark liquid dripping from the knife onto the wooden floor.
     The smiling woman claps enthusiastically. The girl and the knife table all vanish. The door comes back. The woman holds her hands out with palms up toward the door. You start to leave, but the woman suddenly stops you.
     "You're forgetting this," she says and hands you a phone.
     It's the girl's phone, but you take it anyway. Maybe you can find a signal. You run out of the door in a panic, wanting to forget what you just did, wanting to put distance between yourself and the creepy woman. The rats are all gone and you've got a clear shot to the window. You get there and scramble out. You're back outside. You have the choices again.

The Cornfield -  go back to chapter 4The House - go back to chapter 5The Barn - go back to chapter 7

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The Cornfield -  go back to chapter 4
The House - go back to chapter 5
The Barn - go back to chapter 7

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