《Queen of Beauty》


 Princess of Fantasy

    Frankly, dear reader, no matter how much I try to pour my feelings onto paper, and no matter how meticulously I craft chapters and align words, I cannot do justice to this feeling¡ªa feeling that pulses within me whenever I draw near to describing what I write. It is a sensation that cannot be contained within lines or tamed by the tools of language.


    Each of us has our dream girl, the one we paint in our imagination, a masterpiece of complete details brimming with life and longing. We treat her as if she were our eternal princess, the queen who holds the keys to our heart without contest. Each of us has a way of expressing this vision. Some close their eyes and sketch her solely in their imagination, while others bring her presence to life in conversations with the stars. As for me¡­ I chose writing.


    Yes, I write her into my words. I sketch her features with letters and weave her presence into stories. I write every detail about her: her smile, resembling the moonlight on a clear night; her eyes, narrating endless tales; and even those moments when she fills the air with the scent of spring. I write her because she is the only truth I possess amid the noise of this world.


    She was the one¡­ the one my imagination wove with meticulous care, as if I were creating a painting with colors unseen by the eyes except in dreams. She was born in September, the month belonging to brilliant minds and hearts that never cease to wonder. Yes, I chose her from that month specifically, perhaps because I wanted her to be intelligent, as they say about those born in September, capable of deciphering the world¡¯s codes with unparalleled wisdom.


    But her intelligence wasn¡¯t just of the mind; it was also a sharpness for details. Her eyes perceived what others could not see. She listened to the silence between words and read the meanings hidden in glances. She paid attention to the small details that others overlooked, treasures of immeasurable worth to her.


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    She was naturally emotional, feeling everything deeply. Her emotions were like a river, flowing endlessly, embracing everyone around her with sincere love and irresistible warmth. Perhaps that¡¯s why I chose her favorite color to be deep green, for it reflected her beauty in a way words could never describe. Dark green, the color of natural grass that radiates life, just as she lights up my imagination.


    Her beauty was natural and pure, as if she were born from the heart of nature itself. Her skin glowed with the scent of new beginnings, and her laughter¡­ oh, that laughter. It resembled sunlight filtering through tree leaves, imparting a hidden warmth to the earth. Her laughter never leaves me; it haunts my dreams and waking moments, filling the voids in my soul with an unending echo.


    I wanted a name for her, one unlike the names people speak daily¡ªa name as unique as she is in my world. I named her Ilaf¡ªa name inspired by my greatest passion: authorship. The name pulsed with what I love, carrying within it my passion for words and the magic of stories. And they say its meaning is ¡°commitment,¡± as if she was created to bind my thoughts and mind to her alone, to none other.


    But did you expect, dear reader, what happened next?


    One day, I was in my small room, writing about her as I always did. I was depicting her in a garden, the breeze teasing her hair, and nature¡¯s colors reflecting her beauty. I finished the chapter and dozed off in my chair, surrounded by thoughts and words waiting to come alive in the following chapters.


    Amid the room¡¯s quiet and my half-sleep state, I felt something strange. A warm voice drew near my ear, a voice so familiar as if it emerged from the depths of my imagination, gently saying:


    ¡°You must be tired today because of me. I know¡­ but didn¡¯t you intend to wake up?¡±


    I jolted from my place. I opened my eyes quickly and looked around, but there was nothing. I told myself, ¡°This must be a dream!¡± and tried to calm my racing heart. I hastily ate my breakfast and returned to sit before my papers once more, searching for the words that had eluded me.


    But as I held the pen, I felt an unnatural presence surrounding me. That peculiar idea crept into my mind again. ¡°It¡¯s as if it were her voice¡­ the voice in my imagination!¡± I whispered nervously to myself.


    And then came the reply, clear as if it were emanating from within the room:


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s me.¡±


    I froze in my place. I didn¡¯t know how to move or what to say. Her voice¡­ it was alive, real, as if my imagination itself had decided to speak to me. Before I could catch my breath, she appeared before me. I don¡¯t know how it happened, but she was there, standing with every detail I had crafted in my mind.


    I stared at her in astonishment, and as I was about to speak, she interrupted me with a calm smile and said:


    ¡°I am your fairy¡­ the one you write about in your story.¡±

 2-Crossing between the lines

    ¡°I am your fairy¡­ the one you write about in your story.¡±


    The words froze on my lips. I stared at her, shocked, trying to comprehend what I had just heard. How could this be real? How could my imagination take shape, voice, and life? Stammering, I said in a trembling voice:


    "Who? What? How? How can you be here? You¡¯re just a figment of my imagination... How is this possible?"


    She smiled that same smile I had always painted in my mind, but seeing it before me made my heart pound violently. She raised her hand calmly and said with a confident tone tinged with light humor:


    "What¡¯s wrong? Did you see a ghost? Or did you see a ghost?"


    I felt my chest tighten. The words she spoke were almost a joke, but they only added to the strangeness of this situation my mind couldn¡¯t grasp. Before I could respond, she took a step closer, her eyes looking at me with a gaze I couldn¡¯t decipher.


    "I¡¯ve come to you here to tell you something important," she said in a deep voice, a blend of strength and longing. "You need to finish writing the events. If you don¡¯t, I will disappear."


    "Disappear?" I repeated, as if trying to understand the meaning behind her words, but fear began creeping into my heart.


    She nodded and continued, "I¡¯ve been hiding, watching you every day as you write me. I would silently observe you, waiting for the moment you¡¯d finish writing, when you¡¯d take a break and leave me stuck between the lines. I¡¯d watch you¡­ mesmerized by you, your words, your details."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I looked into her eyes, those eyes that carried a tenderness deep enough to overwhelm me entirely. My heart raced with fear, yet somehow, I felt as though I¡¯d been waiting for this moment my entire life. I couldn¡¯t believe I was seeing her before me, with all the details I had once drawn in my imagination.


    She approached me with calm steps, raising her hand gently but confidently. She looked at me with a gaze filled with warmth and affection, and said in a light tone that mixed reproach with humor:


    "Hey, kiddo, you need to write! This isn¡¯t the time to stare at my beauty."


    Her words snapped me out of my daze, and I smiled nervously, saying:


    "But¡­ I don¡¯t know what to write. I don¡¯t have any events in mind right now."


    She let out a light sigh, then looked at me seriously and said:


    "If you don¡¯t write, and if you don¡¯t keep writing for the next two days¡­ I¡¯ll disappear forever. And even you, you won¡¯t remember me. And I¡­ I don¡¯t want to disappear. I want to see you always."


    Her words were like soft daggers. I felt the weight of every letter she spoke. I stared at her, stunned, unable to comprehend how this could be happening. I murmured in a hoarse voice:


    "How? How can this happen?"


    She smiled, but it was a sad smile. She placed her hand on my heart as if trying to reassure me, then said softly, as if whispering a great secret:


    "Your mind¡­ your mind is what wants me to exist. It¡¯s what¡¯s keeping me here. But beyond that¡­ I can¡¯t tell you."


    She stood before me with a mysterious confidence, as if she held a secret known only to her. She gazed at me deeply, then said in a calm yet assured voice:


    "I can place my hand on your mind and make you experience the story as if it¡¯s a dream. You won¡¯t feel your hands writing; you¡¯ll just live the events. And I will stay here¡­ watching your face and living the story with you at the same time."


    Her words left me speechless. I couldn¡¯t respond or even think. I felt as though I was stepping into a new dream, but before I could grasp what was happening, she moved closer, slowly. She raised her hand cautiously, as if ensuring I was ready for what was about to happen. Then, she gently placed it on my head.


    In an instant, I felt a surge of warmth flow from her hand into my body, as if time had frozen, and my eyes closed against my will. I fell asleep, or perhaps I didn¡¯t, for the feeling was akin to being transported to another world.


    When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a place I didn¡¯t recognize. The sky was vast and breathtakingly blue, but I couldn¡¯t figure out where I was. I tried to move, but I felt as though I had detached from reality.


    Then I heard her voice. That warm, tender voice that had become more familiar than I ever expected. She was calling me, laughing with a teasing tone:


    "Hey dear, are you going to keep staring at the sky like that?"

 3-Happiness...but.

    "Hey dear, are you going to keep staring at the sky like that?"


    Her voice rang out like a melody, snapping me out of my daze. I turned to her, and there she stood, her natural beauty breathtaking. It was the very beauty I had always dreamed of, the one I had crafted in my imagination, but now it was real, alive before me.


    Her radiant laughter filled the air, like music harmonizing with the gentle breeze. I felt the soft scent of the dark green grass beneath me blending with the charm of her presence.


    I gazed at her, mesmerized by a beauty that defied words. Every detail of her felt vivid and real, as if I were living an impossible dream. As I was lost in my awe, her playful voice interrupted my thoughts:


    "You! The one playing with the grass... come here! I''ll make you admire my beauty instead of just standing there like a fool!"


    She took me by the hand, as if stealing me away from the world and returning me to my childhood. Together, we traversed the world, laughing, smiling, shining. It felt as though this dream was crafted just for us. Our laughter echoed through the vast expanse, as if we were the only ones alive.


    We arrived in my village¡ªyes, the very place where I had lived. Its natural beauty was unparalleled, with its trees, fresh air, and narrow paths bursting with life. We wandered through the markets, buying little things and laughing at every detail. Then, with her playful tone, she looked at me and said:The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I know you''re a fool... falling in love with me. But guess what? I''m a fool too¡ªI¡¯ve been enchanted by your words."


    Her words were like a gentle breeze, simple yet profoundly meaningful. We sat together in a quiet corner, gazing at the sky and talking about everything and nothing. Suddenly, with innocent eyes, she looked at me and said:


    "I want instant noodles!"


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile and agree. I left at once, searching for her request, and brought it back quickly. But when I returned, she was gone.


    ¡°Eilaf?¡±


    I called out, my voice trembling.


    ¡°Eilaf! Eilaf!¡±


    She was nowhere to be found. I searched every corner, but she had vanished. Then, I heard it¡ªa scream. It was deafening, echoing in every direction, shaking me to my core.


    "What¡¯s happening? Eilaf! Where are you?!"


    I woke up suddenly, gasping for air, my hands trembling as I searched for the pages of my story. I grabbed them, desperate to read what I had written, but the words were different.


    "She¡¯s been kidnapped?! How?!"


    I stared at the pages, trying to make sense of it. I tried to erase the words, but they wouldn¡¯t budge. I attempted to add new lines, to change the course of the story, but the pen wouldn¡¯t move.


    How? How can I bring her back? I sat there, reading the words I had written¡ªwords my hands had penned without thought or understanding. The truth stared back at me: she had been taken. By whom? It was Ammar.


    Ammar, the antagonist I had created for the story, the one I wanted to stand against to add excitement and drama. I thought it would make me the hero, the one who saves her. But now, this wasn¡¯t just a story anymore. Eilaf wasn¡¯t a figment of my imagination, and I was no longer the hero I had envisioned. I was a nobody, powerless, with nothing to my name.


    I sat lost in my thoughts, staring at the paper, my hands heavy with regret. The weight of my failure pressed down on me, suffocating. I whispered in a voice tinged with despair:


    ¡°What do I do? What do I do?¡±


    But there was no answer. Only silence. The realization clawed at me¡ªshe was gone, and I had no idea how to fix it. Eilaf, the one who had brought my world to life, was now beyond my reach.


    "I¡¯m a failure... even her¡ªI lost her."

 4-The Door to the Unknown

    ¡°Think! Think! How will you save her?¡±


    The voice in my head screamed relentlessly. ¡°Hurry! You don¡¯t have time! She¡¯ll disappear forever! Think!¡±


    The words echoed in my mind like thunder, merciless and deafening. My head felt as though it was about to explode. I cried out to myself, ¡°What is this? What¡¯s happening?¡±


    In a moment of desperation, I grabbed the book in front of me and slammed it against my face, as if physical pain could somehow restore my focus. ¡°Think! Just think!¡± I repeated the words like a madman, as though they were a spell that could pull me out of this nightmare.


    ¡°He said it¡¯s my fault... you idiot!¡± I shouted hoarsely. ¡°I can¡¯t do this! I can¡¯t!¡±


    The day passed like a lightning bolt, striking me over and over without mercy. My head was filled with clashing voices, a symphony of torment. Torn pages and failed attempts to rewrite the story were scattered across the room. Pens lay abandoned everywhere, filled with ink yet refusing to write a single word.


    I stared at one of the pens, and it looked as if it was bleeding. The ink seemed like silent, weeping blood, lifeless. It was as if the ink itself refused to witness what had happened, rejecting the reality unfolding before it.


    I sat with my heavy head resting on the desk where I used to write, drowning in silence mixed with quiet sobs. The words in my head felt like daggers piercing my skull, like a cancer spreading mercilessly or a bomb exploding inside me, each time more powerful than the last.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°How? How?¡± I kept repeating to myself, unable to find an answer. I glanced at my phone, its screen lighting up with countless missed calls from my friends, their attempts to reach me relentless. But I... I couldn¡¯t speak.


    She was the one I could talk to endlessly, like a child chattering without pause, laughing, sharing my stories. She was the light in my darkness. You might say, dear reader, that I¡¯m exaggerating, but you don¡¯t know the cracks tearing through my mind right now. You can¡¯t feel the fractures breaking me from within, as if they¡¯re destroying everything in their path.


    Suddenly, one of my friends entered without warning, his face a mixture of fear and concern. He looked at me like I was a ghost of myself.


    ¡°What is this? You¡¯re dead, and only your body remains standing!¡± he said firmly, trying to grasp what was happening.


    I couldn¡¯t keep it inside any longer. I told him everything, laid bare the chaos within me. The words tumbled out, heavy and trembling, accompanied by tears I couldn¡¯t control. My heart was breaking, and my mind was sinking into a storm of confusion.


    ¡°What is this? I can¡¯t take it anymore!¡± I cried, my voice fractured with despair.


    He looked at me with shock and sorrow in his eyes and said,


    ¡°This isn¡¯t you. This isn¡¯t the person I know. You¡¯re the one who used to create, discover, write the most amazing stories, and craft the finest tales.¡±


    But his words, no matter how true, felt distant¡ªlike they were meant for someone else, someone I no longer recognized.


    But¡­ what is this? Who are you? You¡¯re not my friend! How did you get here? How did you open the door? How did you come in?


    He looked at me with a gentle smile, then let out a soft chuckle and said:


    ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you that you¡¯re a creator? You can¡¯t sit here like this. The secret lies within you. The door to the path is also within you. You know the door, and you know the way in and out.¡±


    Before I could make sense of his words, he placed his hands on my shoulders, looked straight into my eyes, and said:


    ¡°Go in. But try not to become a prisoner of what¡¯s inside.¡±


    And just like that, he vanished.


    ¡°What is this?¡± I murmured to myself, stunned. ¡°Was that¡­ my mind?¡±


    Suddenly, I froze, as if a distant whisper reached my ears. It was her voice¡­ Eilaf¡¯s voice.


    ¡°I came from your mind.¡±


    The words echoed in my head. ¡°What?¡±


    I repeated softly, almost trembling:


    ¡°My mind¡­ I¡¯m a prisoner in my own mind.¡±

 5-Between Light and Disappearance

    I kept thinking about her, trying to summon my mind as if searching for a door to an unknown place. It felt as though my mind was responding to something, something I couldn¡¯t quite grasp. I tried desperately to keep her image vivid in my thoughts, to find a way back to her.


    I closed my eyes, imagining her gentle touch on my head. I tried and tried, but I couldn¡¯t feel anything. Yet, with my eyes shut, I sensed a sudden shift. The darkness surrounding me began to transform, turning into a bright white light.


    Slowly, I opened my eyes and found myself in a radiant white room, everything around me pure and luminous. The four walls were plain, yet one of them stood out¡ªit was adorned with intricate drawings of green grass, so vivid they seemed almost alive.


    In the corner of the room stood a figure, drawn with extraordinary precision. His skin was dark, but his features were shrouded in mystery, partially concealed by the brightness. I stared at him, and something about him felt familiar. Then it hit me¡ªI think he was from the novel Eilaf loved to read.


    I kept thinking, searching every corner of the room as if it were a puzzle waiting to be solved. Everything about it radiated mystery until my eyes landed on a small door in one of the walls. Inscribed on it were the words: "You must write a three-letter name."


    A three-letter name? And where was I supposed to write it? I scanned the room, looking for any clues. The space was empty except for the bright lights and the drawings on the walls. I kept searching, racking my brain for an answer.


    The lights in the room were coming from several bright, intense bulbs. One of them caught my attention¡ªit was different. It moved back and forth, swaying left and right, as if beckoning me. I reached out to touch it, but it wouldn¡¯t stay still.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    What intrigued me even more was its position¡ªdirectly in front of the mysterious figure drawn on the wall. The figure¡¯s features were blurred, yet something about it seemed familiar.


    I decided to wait, timing my movements with the bulb¡¯s sway, until the light aligned perfectly with the figure¡¯s face. At that moment, I reached out and touched the bulb firmly.


    Suddenly, the bulb stopped moving. The light illuminated the figure¡¯s face clearly, and that¡¯s when I recognized it¡ªit was her favorite character from the novel she loved so much.


    I smiled, a sense of relief washing over me after such a long and exhausting day. For the first time in what felt like forever, my face lit up with hope.


    Moments later, a keyboard appeared on the door. I stepped closer and typed the three letters, one by one: D, J, N.


    It was the name of the character.


    As soon as I pressed the final letter, the door unlocked at last.


    I stepped through the door into a mysterious room. It was empty except for a bright light, a table, and a box. The box looked like a gift, tied neatly with a pink ribbon¡ªthe kind people use on special occasions for their loved ones.


    I approached the box cautiously, my trembling hands undoing the ribbon. As soon as I opened it, a fragrant aroma escaped, mingling with the sharp smell of iron or metal. Smoke billowed out of the box, swirling thickly until it began to take shape.


    It was her... yes, it was her! But she was bound in shackles, her tear-filled, innocent eyes looking at me. Her gaze was a mix of longing and mistrust, a bittersweet combination of hope and despair, accompanied by silent tears.


    In a shaky, soft voice, she said, "You¡¯ll save me, right? I know you won¡¯t abandon me."


    I moved toward her immediately, but just as I reached out, thick iron bars crashed down between us. I froze, tears streaming down my face, yet I stood firm and declared with unwavering resolve: "I promise you... I will save you, no matter the cost. You will be free."


    For a moment, her expression softened, and her gaze turned calm. She smiled faintly and said, "Don¡¯t forget the instant noodles, you idiot."


    Despite the gravity of the moment, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. "No, I won¡¯t forget. How could a lover ever forget what his beloved adores?"


    She smiled again, a blend of sorrow and humor lighting up her face. "And here I am, your beloved, kidnapped, you fool."


    Before I could reply, she began to fade away, her figure dissolving into the surrounding light. Panicked, I shouted, "Eilaf! Where are you going? Eilaf!"


    But she was gone. Her name echoed in the emptiness, reverberating around me: "Eilaf... Eilaf... Eilaf..."

 6-THE DARK TUNNEL

    I was alone. I had been alone my entire life¡­ an introverted person with no strength, no friends. All I had was my ability to weave stories from my imagination. But even that imagination felt like a curse, as if it were playing tricks on me. I was like a puppet, controlled by a cunning mind on a dark stage, moving however it pleased.


    I was always the target of bullying. I couldn¡¯t make friends. "Just a stupid writer," that¡¯s what I called myself. Every time I faced this truth, I¡¯d bang my head against the wall, as if physical pain was easier to endure than the prison inside my mind.


    I had nothing but my thoughts. Thoughts that haunted me like an unshakable shadow. And in the midst of all that darkness¡­ I remembered her face. Eilaf... her soft voice echoed in my ears: ¡°I trust you completely. Save me.¡±


    I lifted my head suddenly, as though I¡¯d broken free from an endless whirlpool. Yes¡­ I will save you. I won¡¯t let you slip away, even if I have nothing left.


    I stood to my feet, and a piercing scream burst from my chest, tearing through the walls around me:


    ¡°Whoever you are, I will face you! I will save her, no matter the cost! I will never give up!¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Eilaf, I¡¯m the one who put you in this situation, and I¡¯m the one who will get you out of it." I said it with a steady voice, but suddenly, a mocking sound cut through the darkness around me:


    "Do you really think you can even stand, you fool? You failure! There¡¯s no escape for you from this."


    I froze in place, the echo of those words pounding in my head like hammers. I muttered bitterly, "What? Is that the voice of my mind?"


    I lowered my head, and a soft laugh escaped me, turning into a wild, hysterical cackle: "Hahaha... more... hahahahahaha!"


    I suddenly raised my head, my features filled with defiance: "Are you challenging me? I know you¡¯re the voice of my mind. But listen to me¡­ anyone who stands in my way to save her, I¡¯ll destroy them! Each of us fights to keep the light in their life."


    I grabbed my head with both hands and screamed: "Aaaah! The pain... my head is going to explode!" I felt myself being pulled into different realms, as if my mind was shattering and collapsing. I screamed again, "What¡¯s happening to me?!"


    I opened my eyes to find myself in a strange place. "What is this? A dark path¡­ it¡¯s a tunnel." I began walking, my steps heavy and unsteady. Fear clawed at me, but amidst the darkness, my memories with her were my shield. Our moments in the gardens, our laughter in the serenity¡ªthey gave me strength.


    Despite the dark surroundings, I knew that Eilaf, waiting for me at the end of this tunnel, was the light that would shatter all this gloom.


    Suddenly, I heard a strange whistling sound behind me. My heart pounded wildly, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground rhythmically: thud¡­ thud. Then came slow, deliberate footsteps approaching me.


    In front of me appeared a strange figure, distorted features and a psycho-like grin plastered on his face. With a voice that challenged every fiber of my being, he said:


    "Welcome¡­ let¡¯s see if you¡¯re up to the challenge or not."

 7-Survival button and doom button

    As I stood in that dark tunnel, I realized there was no escape. Before me stood a strange man, laughing with that cursed, maddening laugh. His face was hidden, covered by a black mask with a square drawn on it. His body was cloaked in pitch-black clothing, absorbing every hint of light.


    In his hand was an axe, dripping with blood, drop by drop. The sound of the blood hitting the ground was piercing, unsettling, as if it were slicing through my mind. Slowly, he raised the axe and pointed it at me. In a cold, lifeless voice, he said, "You... are an X to me."


    I glanced down at my white clothes, only to see an X marked across them in red. But it wasn¡¯t just any red¡ªit was blood. I froze in place, unable to move, as the man stood there, still and silent, his very presence like a curse.


    Suddenly, a massive door fell between us with a deafening, stern sound, separating me from him. I was thrown back by the shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. I heard a faint voice, barely a whisper, saying, "Run."


    I shouted in confusion, "What?" The voice returned, this time screaming with terrifying force: "Ruuuuun!" The sheer intensity of the sound felt like it was ripping through my skull.


    I started running with all my might, dashing through the dark tunnel as fast as I could. Heavy iron doors began crashing down one after another, blocking the path behind me. I had no choice but to keep running.


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    Out of nowhere, the strange man appeared again, chasing after me with his blood-soaked axe. His maniacal laughter echoed through the tunnel, deafening and relentless. The X mark on my white clothes bled profusely, dripping with crimson as I ran.


    The faint voice continued to urge me: "Don¡¯t stop!" While the man behind me shouted in a chilling, stern tone: "Where are you going? Didn¡¯t you say you would challenge me?!"


    I ran as fast as I could, but suddenly, I stumbled and fell to the ground. I looked back in terror to see him towering over me, his axe raised high, ready to deliver the final blow.


    In that critical moment, another massive door dropped from above, slamming onto him with a thunderous crash. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the eerie sound of dripping liquid.


    I turned my head and saw his severed hand, still clutching the axe, lying next to me. Blood dripped from it steadily, creating an ominous, rhythmic sound that filled the air.


    I stood up, catching my breath, and turned around to find two buttons: one red and the other blue. They stood as silent sentinels before two doors illuminated by matching lights¡ªred above the first door, blue above the second. I stared at them, my mind racing: which one should I choose?


    Thoughts surged through me: was red the color of beautiful roses, or fresh blood spilled anew? Was blue the symbol of peace and calm, or the hue of strange creatures and deadly radiation? Both choices felt equally menacing, but deep down, I couldn¡¯t ignore the truth. Red often signified doom and control, while blue held a promise of mysterious peace.


    Without overthinking, I chose the blue button. But the moment I pressed it, the unexpected happened. In a chilling instant, both buttons turned blood red, as if soaked in fresh, crimson liquid.


    Suddenly, blood began pouring from the walls, flooding the room with chaotic streams of red. The floor glistened, the atmosphere thickened, but oddly, I didn¡¯t feel fear this time.


    Something within me had shifted.


    My gaze fell on the axe beside me, its handle still gripped by a severed hand. I yanked the hand away and clutched the weapon tightly. A crooked smile crept across my face, and then, I laughed¡ªa crazed, unrestrained laugh.


    "The door has finally opened, you who dare to challenge me!" I shouted.


    Just as the words left my mouth, the figure of that man


    emerged once more from the shadows.

 8- The Master of the Game

    The two men erupted into hysterical laughter, filled with madness and defiance. The man with the square mask spoke in a deep, commanding voice:


    "I¡¯m the one in control here. I¡¯m the master, and you¡¯re the victim. You can¡¯t leave this place without me. You¡¯re just the ''X'' to me."


    A crazed smile spread across my face, as if something inside me had shifted. It felt like I wasn¡¯t the person I used to know. I replied with a voice brimming with confidence and insanity:


    "If I live, you live. If I die, you die. You¡¯re nothing without me¡­ I am!"


    Our eyes locked in a blazing stare, a silent war of wills that sparked like fire in the darkness. Fear no longer existed in this space; it had vanished into the ether. We both raised our axes high, our fury reaching its peak.


    The man with the mask smirked arrogantly and taunted:


    "I left my axe for you... Haha, why don¡¯t you try it then? Hahaha."


    I couldn¡¯t bear his words any longer. We lunged at each other, a clash of pure madness. It was as if two beasts were battling in the shadows, their rage unbridled. The clanging of axes rang out like the echoes of a brutal war, accompanied by hysterical laughter that only grew louder with each strike.


    Then¡­ what is this?


    My hands were drenched in blood, thick and heavy, and my heart pounded in my chest like an unrelenting drum. I looked around in panic¡ªwhere was the axe? Where was I? The room was white, pristine, but it didn¡¯t bring peace; it was a nightmare come alive.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Then, a pained voice broke through the silence, a voice that shattered me:


    "You hit me¡­"


    I turned sharply and froze. There, lying before me, was someone I couldn¡¯t mistake.


    "It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s her¡­ it¡¯s Eilaf?!"


    I screamed her name, my voice cracking under the weight of despair:


    "Eilaaaaf! Eilaaaaaf!"


    I ran to her, my legs trembling, barely holding me up. Blood covered her, pooling around her fragile form. The sight blurred my vision as tears filled my eyes. I dropped to my knees, lifting her head gently with shaking hands.


    "What¡­ what is this? So much blood? Eilaaaaf! Eilaaaaf!"


    She opened her eyes faintly, her voice barely audible, yet it struck me like a thunderclap:


    "Is this¡­ the trust you promised me?"


    Her words pierced through me, sharper than any blade could.


    "No¡­ no, I didn¡¯t mean it! Please, believe me, Eilaf¡­ Open your eyes, I¡¯m begging you!"


    My tears fell freely onto her blood-stained face. My hands trembled as I held her, her body growing colder by the second.


    "Eilaf¡­ don¡¯t close your eyes! Eilaf, wake up! Eilaaaaaf!"


    "Ha¡­ surprise!"


    My body trembled, and I turned frantically, searching for answers. Darkness consumed the space, yet it felt suffocatingly full. Suddenly, I realized chains had wrapped tightly around my wrists and ankles, binding me with unyielding strength.


    "What is this? Where am I?!"


    The voice returned, laced with mockery:


    "I¡¯ve played with you once again¡­ You¡¯re weaker than me. How could you ever think you could defeat me?"


    I lifted my head slowly, my eyes locking onto the figure before me. His face remained hidden behind that ominous mask, but his voice resonated with a chilling authority. Surrounding him stood a crowd of figures clad in identical black attire, motionless like eerie statues.


    Then, his hand gestured toward the front. That¡¯s when I saw her.


    It was her¡ªEilaf! Bound by the same relentless chains, she struggled, her defiance evident, but her strength seemed drained.


    "Eilaf!" I shouted in desperation.


    She looked at me, her eyes filled with tears and anger:


    "You idiot! Why are you listening to him? Figure it out!"


    The man¡¯s laughter erupted again, thunderous and maddening:


    "Ha¡­ ha¡­ Didn¡¯t you enjoy my little game? Then let¡¯s see¡­ how will you handle this, watching her suffer right before your eyes?"


    The scene spiraled into a living nightmare. The chains tightened, suffocating my body and soul alike, while her gaze pierced me with an agony I couldn¡¯t bear.

 9-A Dialogue with the Devil

    I was tied to that chair, unable to do anything. In front of me was EIlaf, bound the same way, her eyes filled with terror and despair. Standing before us was that foolish man, laughing with a maniacal grin, his followers joining in his mockery.


    "Here¡­ we shall witness the fun!" he said, his voice echoing with madness. "Hahaha!" The sound of their laughter grew louder, deafening, like demons rejoicing in an unfolding tragedy.


    I struggled with every ounce of strength I had, desperate to free myself, desperate to act. "No¡­ don¡¯t touch her!" I screamed.


    But my cries meant nothing to them. They ignored me entirely. I watched as they approached her, their eyes gleaming with cruelty. She screamed, her voice trembling: "No! Don¡¯t do this! Save me!"


    And then¡­ they stabbed her.


    Her blood began to spill, the color of life draining from her face. She looked at me, her voice breaking with agony: "Save me¡­ save meee!"


    I screamed, my voice tearing through the chaos: "Nooooo!" I shouted at them, at everyone, pleading, struggling against the unyielding bonds that held me. But it was useless.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    They all laughed, their laughter mocking my pain, echoing in the darkness like a chorus of madness.


    That man stepped closer to me, his eyes gleaming with madness. He leaned in, his face just inches from mine, and spoke in a taunting voice laced with deranged laughter:


    ¡°How does it feel¡­ to have everything taken from you in this moment? Huh? Tell me! Hahaha!¡± His laughter echoed through the room, loud and mocking. ¡°Tell me, how does it feel to watch your darker side overwhelm the good in you? Mental manipulation is fun, isn¡¯t it? Hahahaha!¡±


    I lifted my gaze to meet his, despite the pain and the weight of the chains holding me down. I spoke with quiet, simmering rage:


    ¡°You¡¯re not real¡­ She is the truth. She is my existence. Without her¡­ I am nothing. Please, stop this!¡±


    He smirked, his expression dripping with cruel amusement, and said:


    ¡°And you? Didn¡¯t you ever stop? Didn¡¯t you get tired of hurting everyone around you? Tell me¡ªgo on¡ªspeak!¡±


    My hands clenched against the restraints as I replied with determination:


    ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten what you¡¯ve done, and I will get rid of you, you cursed devil!¡±


    He threw his head back and laughed wildly, his voice filled with sinister joy.


    ¡°Devil? Cursed? Me?¡± He tapped his chest mockingly. ¡°I¡¯m just your mind¡­ Look over there.¡±


    He forced my head to turn toward the corner, and there I saw a twisted, angry version of myself, filled with hatred and rage.


    ¡°That¡­ is your hatred,¡± he said sharply. Then he pointed to another side, where another version of me appeared, surrounded by an aura of arrogance and pride.


    ¡°And there¡­ is your arrogance.¡±


    Finally, he gestured toward the engulfing darkness surrounding us and said:


    ¡°And that darkness? That void? You created it. You¡­ dare to call me the devil? No, my dear friend¡­ you are the devil in this game!¡±


    He turned to his followers and barked an order:


    ¡°Take her away from him and return her to her place. Let¡¯s see how this so-called ¡®savior¡¯ plans to rescue her!¡±


    Then, looking back at me one last time, his eyes filled with challenge and mockery, he smiled wickedly and said:


    ¡°And you, dear one¡­ strengthen yourself¡­ and come face me. I¡¯ll see you in the next chapter. See you.¡±


    He vanished with a maniacal laugh, leaving me alone in the consuming darkness.

 10-Cries in the Void

    While I was imprisoned in that dark place, powerless and hopeless, my thoughts could only linger on her. I felt weak and broken, consumed by one question: "I hurt her... I failed her. Will she ever forgive me? Or am I just a fool incapable of protecting her?"


    Memories of us flooded my mind. The moments we shared, playing together, writing poetry, exchanging quotes. She was the sweetness that brightened my days, the light that illuminated my world. How could I live without her?


    The image of her face, with that look of disappointment piercing my heart, haunted me. I remembered her soothing voice, the words she spoke with all her heart, filled with love and kindness. Her love for me was pure, like the clearest skies, and I didn¡¯t deserve it.


    I thought of those nights we spent watching movies together, laughing until tears streamed down our faces. But now, my tears weren¡¯t of joy¡ªthey were of pain and regret. My heart longed to see her again, clinging only to our memories as a glimmer of hope.


    I didn¡¯t ask her to forgive me for what happened. No, I¡¯m the one who let her slip through my fingers. All I want now is to set her free, to save her from all this pain. But¡­ (tears rolled down his cheeks) I also want her with me. I miss her so much. I miss my angel, my sun. I¡¯ll never forgive myself for what she went through. My fear for her consumes me, tearing my soul apart every moment.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Eilaf: "My moon."


    Me: "What do you want, my sun?"


    Eilaf: "Tell me a quote, something beautiful from your heart."


    Me: "If my heart ever swayed from you, I¡¯d rip it out. And who said I¡¯d ever leave you? Can the moon be separated from the sun, its light? Or can a man be parted from his breath, his life?"


    And now, we are apart. She is there, and I¡¯m trapped in the maze of my mind, wandering endless paths, not knowing how to find my way out.


    my body weighed down by the crushing burden of helplessness, and I screamed, my voice echoing in the emptiness around me:


    "What have I done to her?! You useless fool! What have you done to yourself? Your isolation... your depression... your arrogance in what you do... Tell me, you idiot, did you gain anything?! Did I gain anything from all of this? Answer me!"


    My eyes overflowed with tears I couldn¡¯t hold back, and I slammed my head against the chair , as if physical pain might dull the torment within. I screamed, repeating my words as if putting myself on trial:


    "Just a fool¡­ a failure¡­ You couldn¡¯t even protect her! How can you protect her when you can¡¯t even protect yourself?!"


    The sound of my head hitting the chair echoed in my ears, a rebuke in every impact, as though I was punishing myself beyond what my heart could bear. My breathing grew heavier, my chest tighter, and my heart felt on the verge of bursting.


    "Answer me¡­ Answer me, you failure! What¡¯s left of you now?!"


    The pain surged in my head and heart alike, a battle of weakness between them, each vying to prove which was more fragile. My chest ached with the weight of my own words, yet I couldn¡¯t stop. I screamed at the top of my lungs:


    "I failed her¡­ I hurt her¡­ and I will never forgive myself!"


    I remained there, motionless, as tears mixed with drops of sweat, my breaths growing shallower, as though the air itself was abandoning me. The agony within me screamed louder than my voice, and the sound of my head striking the chair was the only thing that pierced through the cries of my soul.

 11-Doors of Sorrow

    As I sat there, trapped in the suffocating darkness, I kept blaming myself over and over. The silence was deafening, yet the voice in my head was even louder, filled with regret and self-loathing. Days passed like centuries, and I could feel something inside me withering away. I had failed her, hurt her, and I didn¡¯t know if she could ever forgive me. But forgiveness wasn¡¯t what I sought¡ªI just wanted to save her, at any cost.


    Yet here I was, powerless, bound by these merciless chains, as if they were a physical manifestation of my guilt. Suddenly, amidst the suffocating stillness, a light appeared out of nowhere. It was faint, but it carried more meaning than all the darkness around me. Along with the light, I heard the metallic clang of something falling.


    I turned my head, struggling against the restraints, to see it¡ªa key lying on the ground. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope stirred within me. A small spark, but enough to ignite something long dormant inside me.


    I tried to move, to reach for it, but the chair I was bound to made every motion excruciatingly difficult. With no other choice, I flung myself forward. The chair crashed onto the floor, sending sharp pain through my body. Yet, despite the agony, I kept going, rolling and squirming to get closer to the key.


    It felt so close, yet impossibly far. My fingers brushed against the cold metal, but I couldn¡¯t grasp it. Again and again, I tried, each attempt more desperate than the last. Finally, after what felt like a battle against my own weakness, I clutched the key.


    Victory surged through me for a fleeting moment, but I knew the fight wasn¡¯t over. The lock was in front of me, and my hands were bound behind the chair. I twisted my body, forcing my arms forward. The pain was unbearable; it felt as though my shoulders were being ripped apart. But I couldn¡¯t stop¡ªI had to be free.


    After what felt like an eternity, I heard the click of the lock opening. The chains fell away, hitting the floor with a dull thud. It felt as if the weight of years had been lifted in an instant.


    I inhaled deeply, savoring my first taste of freedom, but my body betrayed me. My legs couldn¡¯t hold me up. I collapsed onto the floor, completely drained. The darkness returned, wrapping around me once more.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    But this time, it was different. It wasn¡¯t the suffocating void I had known. It held something new¡ªa promise, a flicker of hope, a chance for a new chapter. Yet, before I could grasp it, I would have to face myself again.


    A voice deep inside me whispered, "You can stand. You can fight." My body was frail, barely able to move, but that inner spark refused to die. Though exhaustion gripped me, I felt a flicker of hope. I drifted into a brief slumber, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I experienced a fleeting sense of peace in this desolate, suffocating place.


    When I awoke, something had shifted. Strength, faint yet steady, coursed through my veins. I forced myself to rise, stumbling as my legs threatened to betray me. The pain was immense, but I stood. It wasn¡¯t easy, but I did it.


    I began to walk through the darkness, each step uncertain yet determined. A faint light appeared beneath my feet¡ªgleaming marks etched on the ground, as though reflecting a hidden source. I didn¡¯t question their origin; I simply followed, trusting the guidance they offered.


    Step by step, the glowing trail led me forward, deeper into an intricate labyrinth. The walls were shrouded in an inky blackness that seemed to consume the faint light. Yet the shimmering marks persisted, shifting with each turn, as if whispering, "This is the way."


    Suddenly, the trail stopped. The light faded, leaving me in an eerie stillness. I found myself in an expansive chamber. Its ceiling was invisible, swallowed by shadows that stretched infinitely above. The mirrored walls reflected my image, distorted and fractured, as if mocking my very existence.


    Before me stood several doors, each unique, each mysterious. They were locked tight, their surfaces adorned with cryptic carvings and ancient symbols that seemed alive, pulsating faintly. But among them, one door stood out.


    This door was different. Its frame was solid and unyielding, encased in intricate designs that twisted like vines around a peculiar, otherworldly lock. The sight of it froze me in place. My breathing quickened, and my pulse raced. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this door held the answer, the purpose of everything I¡¯d endured.


    I stepped closer, my hands trembling as I reached for the lock. It was cold and uninviting, as if daring me to solve its puzzle. How would I open it? The question loomed in my mind, and I realized that the real test was just beginning. The answer wasn¡¯t far, but it demanded courage¡ªa courage I wasn¡¯t sure I had yet.


    I approached one of the doors, my fist tightening around it, and broke the lock without hesitation.


    I pushed the door open, ignoring everything except the need to move forward. There was no other choice. I had to go in.


    I found myself in a familiar place, something from the past, something I thought had faded with time. It was my school¡­ in the early morning. The students were gathered, forming a tightening circle around someone. I took a step forward, my heart pounding heavily.


    ¡°What is this?¡± I muttered, my eyes widening in disbelief.


    There, at the center of that circle¡­ it was me. A small, fragile version of myself, trapped among them. They were throwing filth at me, laughing. My voice was muffled, my cries unheard.


    I froze where I stood. I remembered everything. That moment¡­ how it broke me, how it tore me apart inside. I felt like nothing, a fragile creature trapped in a whirlpool of pain.


    I stood there, watching myself¡­ and reliving a pain I thought I had buried with time.

 12-hammer echoes

    I sat in the midst of my memories, trapped as if in an eternal prison. The pain haunted me, and the sound of my faint crying from my childhood echoed in my ears¡ªsilent tears, no screams, no noise, as if I was too afraid to disturb even the cold walls around me.


    I saw my younger self sitting there, curled up in the corner, tears streaming down his face, utterly alone. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t reach out to him. I was condemned to merely watch.


    Then, suddenly, the scene shifted. I saw my younger self standing in a dark room, a space engulfed in shadows. There was only a dim light, faintly illuminating the faces of others in the room. They were there¡ªthe bullies. Their faces were unmistakable, etched in my memory with cruel precision.


    I watched as my younger self stood in the center of the room, his eyes burning with fury. There was no fear now. The pain had morphed into pure, unfiltered rage.


    He moved swiftly, like a ghost hunting its prey. The first bully fell, screaming as he looked down at his legs, severed brutally. The second was struck with a hammer, his head shattering like fragile glass. And the others? They screamed, tried to run, but the room had no exit.


    Every blow, every scream echoed my own pain. I stood there, watching my younger self transform into something unrecognizable. This wasn¡¯t just vengeance¡ªit was something far darker.


    I stood frozen in the middle of this bloody spectacle, staring at my younger self, breathing heavily, his hands stained with blood. Yet, there was no fear in his eyes. No remorse.


    Suddenly, he turned to look at me and smiled¡­ that smile¡ªit wasn¡¯t innocent. It carried only one meaning:Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°This is what you always wanted, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    My younger self vanished suddenly, as if it had been nothing more than a ghost of the past, leaving behind a heavy silence. I looked around, searching for meaning in what was happening, but then my eyes fell on my hands.


    The hammer¡­ it was no longer just a tool. It had become my hands. I felt its weight, its cold surface stained with blood, and the overwhelming power I hadn¡¯t asked for. My hands were enormous, stretched out like arms of vengeance, and every pulse in my body screamed with suppressed rage.


    The hammer had become me, and I had become the hammer.


    The bullies screamed in terror, their voices trembling with desperation:


    "Don''t kill us! Please, don''t kill us!"


    I struggled to understand, to catch my breath, but the scene felt like a nightmare from which there was no escape. Everything around me was engulfed in darkness, except for the wall... There, words were written in blood:


    "Kill them! Kill them and prove you are strong!"


    I hesitated. The scene was saturated with violence, the stench of fear and blood hanging heavily in the air. But the real battle was within me¡ªa far greater conflict.


    I looked at the hammer in my hand, dripping with blood, and then into the tear-streaked, terrified faces of the bullies. They begged, wept, and stared at me as though I was a monster born from their worst nightmares.


    In that moment, I knew the answer. This wasn¡¯t what I wanted. I wasn¡¯t the person who sought vengeance by inflicting greater pain. I raised the hammer and let it fall to the ground, its clang reverberating through the room like the proclamation of a battle''s end.


    I shouted with all the strength I had, louder than I ever thought I could:


    "I will not be like this! Calm down... I won''t kill you. I am not the person you think I am."


    Their cries stopped. Silence descended over the room, as if everyone had been waiting for those words. The atmosphere began to shift, the darkness slowly retreating, and for the first time, I felt a faint sense of peace within me.


    Suddenly, I was back in the room filled with mirrors and locked doors. One of the mirrors was now illuminated, and one of the locked doors had changed. Its angry face etched on the lock had softened, gradually transforming into a small smile, as if acknowledging my accomplishment.


    I looked into the glowing mirror and saw my reflection¡ªnot the same as before. This version of me was smiling, happy, standing in a bright, elegant place. That reflection spoke to me without words:


    "You¡¯ve made the right choice."


    I still had two puzzles left, but I stepped forward with a lighter heart, as if a piece of the heavy burden I had carried for so long had finally been lifted.

 13-The Smile Amid the Storm

    I pushed open the door, the next puzzle awaiting me, and found myself standing in a place steeped in sorrow. It was my old home. Everything was exactly as I had left it, covered in the dust of time and memories.


    Amid this heavy atmosphere, a faint sound reached my ears¡ªa sound of pain and anguish, soft yet piercing. I followed it, my steps weighed down by dread. And then I saw her¡­ my mother.


    She was lying on the bed, her face pale, her eyes filled with the familiar warmth that had always comforted me. Her trembling voice called out to me:


    ¡°Come¡­ I want to be with you. These are my final moments¡­ Why did you leave me and go away?¡±


    My heart felt like it was shattering. Tears streamed down my face as I approached her. I knelt beside her, overwhelmed by the sight of her frail form. She pulled me into a gentle embrace, and I broke down completely.


    ¡°I missed you so much, Mom. I missed you¡­ Your son is tired of everything he¡¯s been through.¡±


    She smiled¡ªa smile that carried all the love and strength I had known in my childhood. Her voice, though weak, was steady as she said:


    ¡°You are strong. You can get through all of this.¡±


    Then she reached out and placed her hand gently on my cheek. For a brief moment, I felt the warmth I had longed for, the comfort I had lost. But suddenly¡­ she slapped me.


    The slap wasn¡¯t harsh. It wasn¡¯t meant to hurt. It was a reminder, a final lesson. Her smile widened slightly as she said, her voice filled with a familiar playfulness:


    ¡°You fool, be strong like your mother.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    She laughed¡ªa laugh that was both sweet and full of pain. But it was the last sound she made. Her eyes began to close, and her final breath faded away in my arms. My mother, the source of all tenderness, drifted into eternal rest while I held her close.


    I didn¡¯t move. I simply stayed there, holding her, trying to grasp the weight of this final goodbye.


    I held onto her with all my strength, refusing to let go, as if her embrace was the only thing keeping me grounded. I looked into her eyes, my own filled with tears I refused to shed. With a voice trembling but resolute, I whispered:


    "I won¡¯t cry, Mom¡­ I¡¯ll get through this. I¡¯ll fulfill your wish. I¡¯ll be strong."


    It felt as though she heard me, as if the warmth of her embrace gave me the strength I had long sought. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.


    I found myself back in the room of doors and mirrors. The air felt different this time, lighter, as if something inside me had been set free. I turned toward one of the doors, and its puzzle was finally solved. The lock clicked open quietly, as if acknowledging my success.


    My gaze shifted to one of the illuminated mirrors. In its reflection, I saw myself¡ªnot as I was, but transformed. There I was, cradled in my mother¡¯s embrace, sitting in a lush green garden. The scene radiated serenity and beauty, a vision of peace that seemed to transcend reality.


    But I knew my journey wasn¡¯t over yet. One last puzzle remained. I turned to face the final door, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and determination, ready to face whatever awaited me.


    I stepped through the final door and found myself in a place unlike any other. A serene garden stretched endlessly before me, filled with vibrant, beautiful flowers. The air was pure, and the gentle breeze whispered to me: "Feel safe¡­ you are home."


    I walked slowly, savoring the peace around me, until my eyes caught sight of a little girl sitting among the flowers. She was smiling, her face glowing with innocence and warmth. I approached her, and she looked up at me with a soft voice:


    ¡°Can I have a flower?¡±


    I glanced at the beautiful blossoms around me, carefully picking one. I held it out to her with a smile. She took it in her small hands, then looked into my eyes and said:


    ¡°You were here before. Back then, you didn¡¯t want to give me anything. What changed?¡±


    Her words struck something deep inside me. I sighed and replied:


    ¡°I was arrogant. I couldn¡¯t see the true beauty of this place. How could I have been so blind, refusing a simple gift to a radiant child like you? I know I made you cry before, but now I see your comforting smile, and it feels like the light of your beautiful face has warmed my soul.¡±


    The little girl smiled brightly, then stood up and began dancing among the flowers. Her laughter echoed through the garden, filled with pure joy. She laughed hysterically, her happiness lighting up the atmosphere.


    As I watched her, I felt something shift inside me. Before I could process it, I was transported back to the room of doors and mirrors. But this time, it felt different.

 14-An Embrace Between Reality and Imagination

    I stepped through the door that had just opened, and before me was a sight unlike any other. A vast garden stretched out endlessly, filled with beautiful lotus flowers. The serene beauty of the place was beyond words¡ªnothing but tranquility and splendor surrounded me. It was as if I had stepped into a paradise crafted by my own mind.


    As I stood there, captivated by the scene, a woman appeared before me. She was stunning, with golden blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She wore a vibrant red dress that seemed to glow in the soft light of the garden. In her hand, she held a single lotus flower.


    She approached me with a calm, graceful stride, her smile carrying an air of mystery. Her voice was soft and soothing as she spoke:


    ¡°Do you see this? This is the beauty you¡¯ve allowed us to live in¡ªyour imagination brought this to life. Do you see what you¡¯ve created? Eilaf¡­ she is extraordinary, isn¡¯t she? She loves lotus flowers too, doesn¡¯t she? Such beauty, born from your mind.¡±


    I was stunned, but I managed to gather myself and ask:


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    Her smile deepened, filled with both wisdom and reassurance, as she answered:


    ¡°You can think of me as the last white dot in your mind¡­ I am the personification of hope. I am the guardian of this vast place. You¡¯ve come here to save Eilaf, and I¡­ I am the one who will help you find her.¡±


    Her words were like light piercing through every shadow within me. I looked around the garden once more, then back at the lotus flower in her hand, feeling something stir inside me. This journey wasn¡¯t for nothing, and the path ahead was clearer than ever.


    With a soft snap of her fingers, everything around us shifted. Suddenly, we were standing in a corridor overflowing with flowers of every color imaginable. The air was alive, vibrant, and full of hope, as if each petal whispered reassurance into my soul. This place¡­ it felt like a dream woven from light and serenity.


    She turned to me, her voice carrying a quiet certainty:Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°At the end of this corridor¡­ you will meet her.¡±


    I stared at her, disbelief flickering in my eyes.


    ¡°What? Eilaf? Is this real?¡±


    She smiled gently, her gaze steady.


    ¡°Yes, at the very end of this corridor. You¡¯ll find her waiting. It¡¯s the strength of your hope and your refusal to give in to the darkness within your mind. That¡¯s what brought you here.¡±


    My heart raced, and I whispered:


    ¡°How? How is that possible?¡±


    She gestured forward, her smile unwavering.


    ¡°This is the path you created¡ªthrough your resilience and faith. Now, don¡¯t hesitate¡­ let¡¯s go.¡±


    We began walking side by side down the magnificent corridor. Flowers stretched endlessly on both sides, their colors so vivid they seemed to paint the air itself. Their fragrance wrapped around me like a comforting embrace, each step bringing me closer to something I had longed for.


    Then we stopped. At the end of the corridor stood a door unlike anything I had ever seen. It was covered entirely in flowers¡ªblooming, living, breathing. The door radiated warmth and life, as if it pulsed with the very essence of hope.


    I turned to her, my voice filled with awe:


    ¡°What is this?¡±


    She smiled knowingly and said:


    ¡°Open it. This is what you¡¯ve been searching for all along.¡±


    With trembling hands, I reached for the door. The moment my fingers touched it, a wave of warmth spread through me. Slowly, I pushed it open.


    And there she was.


    Tears welled up in my eyes as my gaze fell upon her. Standing in the midst of an ethereal, breathtaking garden was Eilaf. She looked exactly as I had always imagined her¡ªher presence radiating comfort, her smile carrying a promise of peace.


    At that moment, I knew: everything I had endured, every challenge, every trial¡­ it had all been leading to this.


    She said to me, her voice trembling with both tears and joy:


    "Finally¡­ you came."


    She threw herself into my arms, holding me tightly as if afraid I would disappear again. Her heartbeat and shaky breaths told me everything¡ªI had been missed just as much as I had missed her.


    I couldn¡¯t believe it. Was this real? Was this dream, the one I had envisioned a thousand times, finally standing before me?


    I lifted my head slightly and glanced at the woman who had guided me here. She stood at a distance, smiling quietly, as if she had been waiting for this moment as much as I had. She said to me softly:


    "This is what you¡¯ve always wished for, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯ve made it, and you¡¯ve finally found what you were searching for."


    I smiled at her, then turned back to EILAF. Gently, I cupped her face in my hands and brought our foreheads together. I wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks with my fingertips and whispered to her, my voice steady but overflowing with emotion:


    "We¡¯ve endured¡­ we¡¯ve endured so much for this moment. As I promised you before, I will never give up, no matter what happens."


    Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled¡ªa smile that carried all the hope and love we had longed for.


    Without thinking, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small gift I had saved just for her¡­ a pack of instant noodles, the one I had promised her long ago.


    The moment she saw the noodles, she burst into laughter¡ªa pure, heartfelt laugh that filled the air with warmth. That laughter¡­ I couldn¡¯t resist it. I was completely captivated by the beauty before me.


    In that moment, I realized that every struggle, every pain, every obstacle had been worth it¡ªto arrive here, at this moment, to see this dream turn into reality.

 15-When the Bride Shines

    In the middle of the garden that once overflowed with colors and beauty, everything suddenly turned into pitch-black darkness, as if the world¡¯s light had been snuffed out in an instant. I stood frozen, searching for anything to anchor me, to stop myself from falling into the abyss of shock.


    That strange woman reappeared, but this time she was nothing like the comforting figure I had seen before. She pulled herself away from my arms, her features twisting into a sinister smile as she spoke in a voice laced with deceit:


    "You said you loved me, didn¡¯t you? Hahaha¡­ I am your false hope!"


    Her laughter echoed through the void, morphing into a haunting sound that seemed to stretch endlessly. Then, from the darkness, a familiar figure emerged. It was that man¡ªthe one who claimed to be my mind. This time, he wasn¡¯t alone. He had EILAF with him, gripping her harshly. Her eyes, filled with fear and tears, locked onto mine.


    The man¡¯s mocking voice cut through the heavy silence:


    "You saw it, didn¡¯t you? Hahaha¡­"


    The room filled with laughter from his followers, their voices reverberating through the suffocating darkness. Without a moment of hesitation, I charged toward EILAF. My body moved instinctively, driven by sheer determination. I tore her away from his grasp, swept her into my arms, and ran as fast as I could.


    I didn¡¯t think. I couldn¡¯t think. I just ran, clutching her tightly, ignoring her attempts to speak, until we found a secluded corner shrouded in shadow. There, I set her down gently, struggling to catch my breath.


    I looked into her tear-streaked face, and with a voice trembling yet unwavering, I said:


    "I will never betray you¡­ no matter what. That will never happen."


    She gazed at me, her eyes still glistening with tears. Then, she smiled softly, her voice filled with a warmth that cut through the darkness:


    "I know. I trust you. And I know everything you¡¯ve done for me. I know you came to save me¡­ and I will never, ever doubt you."


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    In that moment, time seemed to halt. The crushing darkness around us faded before the strength of those words. In that moment, her trust was the only weapon I needed to keep going.


    From within the pitch-black darkness, his irritating voice echoed like a thunderbolt piercing the silence:


    "Where are you? You¡¯ve missed my axe¡­ haven¡¯t you?"


    The deafening sound of a brutal impact shattered the air, as if the ground itself trembled under its force. He continued, his voice dripping with arrogance and madness:


    "I¡¯m the one who¡¯ll split her apart for you! You¡¯ll never be stronger than me, no matter what!"


    As his words reverberated, that woman appeared once more, her features twisted with malice and disdain. She sneered, her voice mocking and sharp:


    "Didn¡¯t you say I was your beloved? Didn¡¯t you say you were in my arms? Hah¡­ how can she trust you now?"


    Her words cut deep, but then she let out a scream¡ªan earth-shattering, bone-chilling cry that reverberated through every corner of the space. It was a scream like no other, shaking the ground and the very air we breathed, as if the world itself was amplifying her rage and malevolence.


    Amidst the chaos, I clung to EILAF with every ounce of strength I had, pulling her tightly into my arms as if shielding her from all the evil trying to reach her. My heart pounded violently, but my voice emerged firm, resolute, and unwavering:


    "You will never be lost to me again. No matter what it takes¡­ you will never be lost to me!"


    She trembled in my arms, afraid but trusting, and I stood, defying every voice, every force, and every shadow that sought to shake my resolve.


    In the moment when darkness engulfed us, their voices drew closer, rising like an unrelenting storm. There was no escape, no corner to hide in. Everything around us felt like it was caving in, as though we were trapped in an endless void.


    Eilaf clung to me, her fingers gripping my arm tightly. Her calm voice, amidst the chaos, felt like a lifeline:


    "Focus¡­ I¡¯m here. I won¡¯t leave you¡­ just focus."


    I tried to steady my breath. Their voices grew louder, nearer, shaking the very ground beneath us. Each step they took was like a hammer striking my nerves, a harbinger of impending doom.


    At that moment, like a spark of hope igniting within me, I turned to her and said, my voice trembling but determined:


    "Put your hands on my head¡­ like you used to. Come on, Eilaf, there¡¯s no time!"


    She hesitated for a moment, and their footsteps closed in, the sound of their rage echoing like thunder. Desperation gripped me.


    "Now, Eilaf! Do it now!"


    Slowly, she raised her hands and placed them gently on my forehead. In an instant, it was as if the entire universe shifted. Light broke through the suffocating darkness with a brilliance so pure it was blinding. The white radiance engulfed us, washing away every fear and shadow.


    When I opened my eyes within this overwhelming light, I saw her. Eilaf¡ªa bride clad in white, glowing like a full moon. Her laughter filled the air, a melody of life itself, chasing away every shadow. She was laughing, and her laughter alone shattered all fears, filling the space with warmth and serenity.


    Then, as if an invisible hand cut through the dream, the light dimmed, and the scene transformed abruptly. I found myself back in my room¡ªthe familiar room that had sheltered me and my writing. My desk, scattered papers, and the pen lying beside them¡­ everything was exactly as I remembered.


    But what struck me most was what I saw next.


    I was there. I saw myself, slumped over an open book, asleep, motionless, as though I had been in a deep slumber.


    Eilaf was standing beside me, silent and still, her hand resting gently on my shoulder. She looked at me with her calm eyes, saying nothing. Yet in her silence, a thousand words were spoken.

 16-A Smile That Illuminates the Darkness

    EILAF sat quietly, her eyes wandering around the room, absorbing every detail as if she wanted to imprint it in her memory. I was beside her, pointing to a drawing hanging on the wall. I smiled and said, "Do you see this drawing? This was how I imagined you."


    She looked at it closely, a small smile forming on her lips, but I could see the weight in her eyes¡ªa heaviness that she couldn¡¯t fully hide. I felt it too. Taking her hand gently, I said, "Come with me."


    I led her to the desk, opened one of the drawers, and pulled out an instant noodle pack. Her eyes lit up with surprise, and then she burst into laughter¡ªa pure, childlike laugh, full of innocence and joy.


    "It''s not just one pack," I said, grinning. "It''s two! No, wait, three! No, four!"


    She couldn¡¯t contain herself. She threw herself into my arms, holding me tightly. With a voice full of warmth, she whispered, "And me? How many EILAFs do you have?"


    I chuckled softly and replied, "I have no one but you. You are my everything."


    She looked up at me with her bright, glistening eyes and said, "And I have no one but you¡­ You are my strength."


    I pointed to the figure slumped over the desk¡ªthe sleeping version of me. "Look at him," I said, "how tired and broken he looks. But no matter how weak or exhausted he is, he wants you. He wants you more than anything, no matter the cost."


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    EILAF looked at me again, her smile unwavering. No more words were needed. There was only the unspoken bond between us¡ªa connection deeper than anything else, stronger than any darkness.


    I sat before her, gazing at her unmatched beauty, speaking to her like a wanderer who had finally found his princess after a long, arduous journey. She looked at me with a serene smile, like a flower yearning to bloom under the warmth of the sun. I began to tell her everything that had happened to me, from the very beginning until this moment¡ªsharing all my pain and hope. She listened intently, as though she were catching each word with her soul.


    We sat together on one of the couches, and I watched as her eyes drifted toward the guitar lying nearby. Raising an eyebrow, I asked with a playful smile, "What''s up with the guitar?"


    She turned to me and laughed, saying, "You silly, don¡¯t you remember the song you used to sing for me?"


    I chuckled softly and replied, "Ah... the one on Rapunzel¡¯s tune, right?"


    She nodded eagerly, then picked up the guitar and moved closer to me, laughing like a little child whose face glowed with joy and warmth. Pressing against me, she held the guitar in her hands, her eyes filled with anticipation and delight, silently asking me to revive the memories we once shared.


    I held the guitar, strumming gently, and began to sing softly:


    "Oh flower of light... EILAF, come with me


    Oh flower of light... oh light of my heart


    With you, life¡­ grants me my strength."


    She listened with childlike excitement, clapping enthusiastically, her smile illuminating the room as if the entire world reflected her joy.


    Smiling as I watched her, I continued in a gentler tone, my gaze full of adoration:


    "I call you always¡­ O secret of peace."


    She giggled shyly, covering her face with her hands as her cheeks flushed, but her sparkling eyes betrayed her happiness.


    I carried on with a deeper tune, pouring my emotions into every word:


    "Oh flower of light... oh truest harmony


    I was lost in the mazes of the paths


    Until you came and changed all hearts


    Your voice sings the melody of fascination


    And revives the soul in every season


    Oh light of my life, oh beam of the sky


    With you, life is hope and delight


    No matter how dark the road may seem


    You are the light, oh EILAF."


    As I sang the final lines, her eyes began to close, half-lidded, as if sleep was gently pulling her into its embrace. Her smile remained etched on her lips, and she rested in my arms, her expression so peaceful, as though she were an angel who had just descended from heaven. The guitar echoed its last note, sealing the moment of love that united us forever.

 17-A Scream from the Ashes

    We woke up from our daze, our eyes wandering around the room once again, taking in every little detail. My body was still lying motionless on the book in front of me, a strange sight, as if I were watching myself from another world. I felt like something was missing¡ªa mystery yet to be solved.


    Suddenly, an idea struck me. I turned to EILAF and said:


    "Wait¡­ the book! There might be something else written in it, something we didn¡¯t notice before!"


    Her eyes lit up with curiosity, and she gently reached for the book, flipping through its pages one by one. Her fingers moved delicately, and her expression remained soft, that same warm smile that always filled me with comfort. She read in silence, lost in the words, her gaze absorbed by the story.


    But then¡­ she stopped.


    The smile vanished.


    Her hands froze mid-turn, gripping the paper as if refusing to accept what she had just seen. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet mine, her wide eyes filled with something I had never seen in them before¡ªsomething deeper than just shock.


    She whispered, almost too softly to hear:


    "No¡­ no, this can¡¯t be¡­"


    My heartbeat quickened. I stepped closer, my breaths shallow, an invisible weight pressing against my chest.


    "EILAF¡­ what is it? What does it say?"


    She didn¡¯t answer.


    She simply closed the book, her hands trembling ever so slightly. Then, she looked at me¡­ and this time, her eyes weren¡¯t filled with warmth or relief.


    They burned with anger.


    "Did you write¡­ that you were going to abandon me?!"


    Her words struck like a blade to my soul. A shock I never expected to feel so deeply¡­


    I was stunned by what I had just heard, as if her words had slapped me across the face. I looked at her in disbelief and said:


    "What? What are you saying?!"


    But she didn¡¯t calm down. The anger in her voice grew, that silent fury that precedes a storm. She stepped toward me, gripping the book tightly, her eyes burning with a fire I had never seen in her before. Then, in a voice filled with disappointment, she said firmly:


    "You wrote that you would abandon me?!"


    I took a step back as if her words had physically pushed me away. I felt the ground shake beneath my feet. I stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying, and replied, confused:


    "How?! It¡¯s impossible that I would write such a thing!"


    But she wasn¡¯t listening. It was as if she had been thrown into an ocean of anger, with no way back. Suddenly, she screamed at the top of her lungs, and her voice shook the entire room like an earthquake:


    "How could you do this?! How could youuu write something like that?!"


    I didn¡¯t know what to do. I tried to move closer, to calm her down, but she was like a raging storm, growing more violent with each second, as if something inside her had shattered beyond repair. I spoke quickly:


    "Eilaf, calm down! It¡¯s impossible that I would do that! What are you talking about?!"


    But she wouldn¡¯t calm down. Her voice only grew louder, her eyes filled with tears, anger erupting from her like fire. She screamed, as if trying to grasp the truth with her fingers, only to have it slip through like sand:


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    "I did everything for you! I gave you everything! I stood by your side! I was your light! I made you happy, and this is how it ends? You abandon me?!"


    I felt like the whole world was collapsing around me, like the room was closing in on us, like everything we had been through was about to turn to ashes because of those words. I looked at her, wanting to scream back, to tell her she was wrong, that she didn¡¯t understand. My voice trembled, but every word came from the depths of my soul:


    "I never abandoned you! I fought with everything I had to save you, to reach you!"


    But she didn¡¯t believe me. She shook her head violently, her eyes glistening with angry tears, and she snapped:


    "You¡¯re lying!"


    I felt as if a dagger had been plunged into my chest, but I refused to back down. I stepped closer, placing a hand over my heart, where my pulse raced, and I spoke with the voice of a man who had nothing left to lose:


    "How could I lie?! Eilaf¡­ my entire life, I built it for you! I changed myself, faced my fears, and filled my path with blood just to reach you! I¡ª I am the one who created you in my imagination!"


    I fell silent, and so did she. But in her eyes, silence wasn¡¯t peace. It was war¡­


    But that silence was merely the calm before the storm.


    Suddenly, the entire room trembled violently, as if the very ground beneath me had awakened in fury. My body jolted upright from the book with an eerie force, as if something deep within me had been stirred from its slumber. Then, a chilling voice echoed from the abyss of darkness, a voice that seemed to claw its way up from the depths of hell:


    "So here you are¡­ throwing yourself into damnation! Hahaha!"


    My eyes darted around in sheer panic, my heart pounding against my ribs like a beast caged within my chest. But the voice was not the worst part. The true horror was EILAF.


    She turned to face me¡ªbut she was no longer the Eilaf I knew. Her body ignited, glowing with an infernal light, her presence radiating an unbearable heat. It was as if a volcano was erupting from within her, rage consuming every fiber of her being. Her eyes no longer held warmth, only a firestorm of betrayal, grief, and wrath.


    Then, a scream tore through the air¡ªa scream so powerful that it shattered reality itself.


    "AAAAAAAARRRGHHH!!!"


    The walls crumbled. The ground beneath us cracked open. The books, the papers, the remnants of my thoughts¡ªall turned to ash in an instant, swirling into the air like a suffocating storm of dust and despair. I could feel the weight of it pressing down on my lungs, dragging me further into this nightmare.


    I turned back to her, my voice barely escaping my trembling lips:


    "Eilaf¡­ stop¡­ EILAF!!"


    But she was beyond my reach. She was no longer listening. Blood burst from her eyes, from her nose, from her ears¡ªpouring out as if her very soul was being torn apart from the inside. Her face twisted in agony, every scream drawing more and more of her life away.


    I tried to move towards her, but my legs refused to obey. It was as if unseen chains held me in place, forcing me to witness this horror without the power to intervene.

 18-The Curse of Spilled Ink

    The explosion¡­ an eruption that transcended the boundaries of reality and nightmare. A fountain of blood burst forth before my eyes, drenching the world in its crimson spray, as if born from the very womb of madness. I shut my eyes tightly, unable to withstand the horror, my mind teetering on the edge of oblivion. Then¡­ the screams ceased. Silence fell.


    I hesitantly opened my eyes, my heartbeat pounding in my ears, my gaze searching for truth within the suffocating haze. But what I saw was not the aftermath of the nightmare I had just witnessed. No, I was somewhere else. Bound.


    My hands were tied to a chair. Before me, an ancient wooden table, worn by time, stood in eerie stillness. In my hand, a pen. And before me, a single sheet of paper. Not just any paper¡ªno. It was the first page of my novel... the very beginning.


    Slowly, I lifted my gaze, my breaths uneven. Across the table, he stood. That figure. That entity that had haunted my nightmares, lurked in the recesses of my mind, whispered from the shadows. But this time, he wasn¡¯t just a faceless terror, wasn¡¯t just a looming specter of dread.


    This time¡­ he removed his mask.


    I was stunned by what I saw¡­ How? How could this be real? How could this happen?! It was¡­ me. A perfect reflection, my own face staring back at me from the other side of the table.


    He stepped forward, his cursed laughter echoing in my ears¡ªa ghost of myself standing right in front of me.


    He sat down calmly, as if this were the most ordinary thing in the world. His eyes were cold, empty, devoid of any emotion. There was no trace of life within them. A faint smirk played on his lips, one filled with cruel mockery. In his hand, he held a glass of milk, sipping it without a care, as if this moment meant nothing to him.


    In a low, unsettling voice, he spoke:


    ¡°Do you see this darkness around you? You created it.¡±


    I shouted at the top of my lungs:


    ¡°What do you want from me?! Haven¡¯t you done enough?! Where is Eilaf, you basta¡ª¡±


    I couldn¡¯t finish.


    A sudden, thunderous slam on the table froze me in place. He struck it with both hands, shaking the entire room. The sharp, jarring sound crawled into my bones as if it had shattered something inside me. I couldn¡¯t move. I just sat there, paralyzed, while he let out a slow, mocking chuckle.


    Then, with that same twisted smirk, he said:


    ¡°You fool¡­ if it weren¡¯t for you, I wouldn¡¯t even exist.¡±


    He took another sip of milk, as if our conversation was nothing more than a mild amusement. Then, his voice dripped with venom:


    ¡°If it weren¡¯t for that girl you keep writing about, you wouldn¡¯t have spent your whole life drowning in loneliness and eternal darkness.¡±


    And then¡ªhe laughed. No, it wasn¡¯t laughter¡ªit was madness. A sound that echoed through my worst nightmares.


    ¡°If it weren¡¯t for your ¡®brilliant¡¯ novels, you wouldn¡¯t be so utterly alone! So pessimistic! Ha! You never even tried to fix your life, never even tried to find an alternative to this so-called Eilaf! You¡­ are a failure!¡±


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    His laughter spiraled into pure insanity, and every word he spoke cut into me like a dagger.


    ¡°And this novel of yours? No one has ever read it except for you! Just a pathetic loser running from his isolation into fantasy! And now? Now you''re trapped inside the very illusion you thought was paradise¡­ Ha!¡±


    "All this time¡­ ''Eilaf, Eilaf, Eilaf''¡­! Where is Eilaf?!"


    He stepped closer, lowering his head until his face was just inches from mine. His breath was like a whisper of poison as he sneered:


    "If it weren¡¯t for Eilaf¡­ your life wouldn¡¯t have been this happy, would it?"


    Then, without warning, he grabbed my head, his fingers digging into my scalp, his grip crushing me like a vice. He yanked my head up, forcing me to look directly into his hollow, soulless eyes.


    There was no mercy in them. No warmth. Only cold, endless darkness.


    "I tried to wake you up to your reality¡­ but you refused to see."


    Then, without hesitation, he let go of me¡ªviolently. The force sent me staggering back, my breath ragged, my balance nearly lost. He stared at me with amusement, a worthless, pathetic being.


    And then, in a voice that seemed to crawl from the depths of hell, he said:


    "You didn¡¯t even listen to your mother¡¯s cries when she was in pain¡­ She died wanting one last embrace from you¡­ and you weren¡¯t there, you miserable bastard¡­ you weak, pathetic coward¡­ You deserve everything that¡¯s happening to you now!"


    A chill unlike any I had ever known crept through my bones. I felt frozen from the inside out. My mind struggled to form words, but before I could even speak, his voice rang out again¡ªthis time, filled with madness:


    "Now¡­ either you pick up that pen¡­ and erase everything you¡¯ve written."


    I held my breath. I couldn¡¯t comprehend his words at first. But then, before I could react¡ª


    He reached into the air, his hand gripping onto something that wasn¡¯t even there a moment ago.


    And then¡­


    Something heavy slammed onto the table before me.


    The sickening thud. The wet, dripping sound. The stench of fresh blood filling the air.


    My eyes widened in sheer horror.


    A head¡­ A human head.


    But not just anyone¡¯s head.


    It was Eilaf.


    I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.


    She was still alive.


    Her eyes stared at me, filled with unshed tears¡­ and blood. Her ears, her nose, her lips¡ªeverything was bleeding. Yet, despite the agony in her gaze, her lips trembled as she whispered in a voice so faint, I barely heard it:


    "Save me¡­"


    My entire being shattered, but before I could move, the other me spoke again, his laughter twisting into something monstrous:


    "Either you pick up the pen¡­ and erase everything you wrote¡­"


    I turned to look at him, my heartbeat hammering in my chest.


    And then, with a voice steeped in cruelty, he added:


    "Or you''ll watch her head explode right in front of you¡­ and you won¡¯t be able to save her. You will witness her suffering¡­ forever."

 19-Bleeding Shadows

    I was stunned by what I saw¡ªthe sheer arrogance and coldness of that person, and the sight of Eilaf¡¯s severed head lying on the table, dripping with blood. What have I done to myself? Am I truly the cause of all this?


    Am I just a lonely man who abandoned everything, living in his own delusions, indifferent to reality? No friends, no family¡ªeveryone drifted away, leaving me behind with my bleak existence. And now, even the one spark of my happiness bleeds before my eyes, whispering in a voice so faint it barely escapes her lips:


    ¡°Save me... Save me...¡±


    Am I truly worthy of the trust given to me? Or am I just a pathetic failure, powerless before the embodiment of my own darkness? That figure sitting across from me, drinking casually, as if nothing had happened¡ªwearing that cursed smile, as if all of this was nothing more than a game he controlled...


    I broke my silence, unable to bear it any longer. I screamed with all my might:


    "You''re just an illusion! Without me, you wouldn''t even exist, you fool!"


    He smirked coldly and said mockingly:


    "It seems you need to see a little scene."


    Then, he clapped his hands once...


    In an instant, I felt my body being pulled violently, as if I had fallen into a bottomless void. Suddenly, I found myself in a familiar place¡­ my old home.


    But something was different. Everything was as I had left it¡ªthe walls, the furniture, even the scent lingering in the air¡ªbut the atmosphere was thick¡­ suffocating.


    Then, I saw her¡­


    My mother.


    She was in front of me, pleading, crying out my name, but I¡­ I couldn¡¯t move.


    I stood there, frozen, unable to reach out to her, unable to save her, unable to do anything. I was just a spectator, trapped inside my own memories, forced to relive the same agony over and over, powerless to change a single thing.


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    Then, in the blink of an eye, that man clapped his hands once more¡­


    I was back in my seat, facing him. That emotionless, mocking face. He stared at me with disdain before speaking in a voice dripping with contempt:


    "See? You¡¯re just weak¡­ a nobody¡­ so easy to manipulate."


    Then, he took a slow sip from his cup as if nothing had happened, while I felt my soul sinking deeper into an endless abyss.


    He looked at me with empty, merciless eyes, that cursed smirk never leaving his lips as he spoke coldly:


    "Come on, do it¡­ or else, there will be no mercy this time."


    Then, with brutal force, he grabbed Ilaf¡¯s head and slammed it against the table. Blood smeared the paper in front of me. My hands trembled, my breath caught in my throat, but his gaze pierced through me¡ªmocking me, forcing me to choose.


    "Do it."


    His voice was sharp, slicing through the silence with cruelty and scorn.


    "I said, do it!"


    I screamed at him, my voice desperate and shaking:


    "Stop it! Don¡¯t do this!"


    But he didn¡¯t care. He only laughed¡ªlaughed like a madman, shaking Ilaf¡¯s head violently, slamming it against the table over and over again.


    "Come on¡­ do it¡­ do it¡­!"


    He sang the words mockingly, every syllable accompanied by a sickening thud. Each impact sent more blood splattering, each time her pain multiplied. Ilaf¡¯s weak, broken cries filled the room, and I¡ªI could do nothing but scream his name in pure desperation.


    "Stop! Stop this! Please!"


    But he didn¡¯t stop. He laughed louder, as if my suffering was nothing but entertainment to him, as if my helplessness was exactly what he wanted.


    And then¡ªmy voice tore through the air, a raw, burning eruption from my throat:


    "Fine! I¡¯ll do it! I¡¯ll do it!"

 20-Eradication of Pessimism

    I grabbed the pen and paper, but I didn¡¯t erase anything. Instead, I wrote. But this time, it was different. I laughed hysterically.


    The other fool looked at me, puzzled. "What¡¯s so funny? Is there some kind of joke written there?" he asked, confused by my reaction.


    I grabbed the cup of milk he had and drank from it while still laughing. He took the paper, and as his eyes scanned the words, a look of pure fear spread across his face.


    Hysterically, I watched as he realized what was written: "You are nothing but an illusion. Now, I am the one in control."


    He looked down at his hands¡ªthey were now bound. Eilaf was nowhere to be seen.


    I leaned forward, grinning. "Welcome to my creative mind. Did you really think, after everything I¡¯ve been through, that I wouldn¡¯t see through your tricks? That I wouldn¡¯t understand your intentions?"


    I smirked coldly. "You¡¯re nothing but an ''X'' to me."


    From the very beginning of this story, you controlled me¡ªmanipulating my weakness, exploiting my ignorance of the truth. But now¡­ you hold no power over me.


    I stepped closer, until my lips were near his ear, and whispered in a cold, spine-chilling voice:


    "You are the one who will suffer now, illusion¡­"


    I saw tension creep into his features, but I continued, my tone filled with unwavering certainty:


    "I have regained my hope. Your power lies in my despair, in my surrender. But listen carefully¡­ My pessimistic self is the one who will die now, not me."


    At first, he didn¡¯t understand. But when I turned to face him, I saw the terror in his eyes. He realized the truth. He knew his end had begun.


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    His body trembled, his voice shook as he screamed in agony, as if my words were daggers piercing through his very being, each syllable tearing him apart. His face twisted in pain, and then¡­ he began to fade. His form crumbled into dark shadows, scattered like dust in the wind. His voice¡ªthe same voice that had always whispered despair into my mind¡ªwas now nothing but a distant echo, vanishing into nothingness.


    And here I stand¡­ watching my illusion perish.


    Only now¡­ do I finally begin to live.


    He finally disappeared¡­ Vanished as if he had never existed, taking the surrounding darkness with him. I felt myself breathing freely, as if a mountain had been lifted off my chest. I began looking around, staring at the empty space he left behind, then muttered in a firm but challenging tone:


    "You''ve lost one of your powers, you cursed mind¡­ You were never anything but a weak coward, feeding on my fear. But that ends now."


    I lifted my head, gazing into the surrounding void, as if addressing an unseen entity:


    "My hope has returned, and I will wipe out all your negativity and restore you to your senses. I was the one who made you this way¡­ and I will be the one to fix you."


    A heavy silence filled the space, but I didn¡¯t stop¡ªI only became more resolute:


    "Face me now!"


    There was no response¡­ but something began to happen. Out of nothingness, a door materialized before me. There was nothing behind it¡ªjust absolute emptiness, like a boundary between two worlds.


    There was no other choice¡­


    Either I fight, or I fall again.


    I refused to hesitate. I stepped forward, my footsteps steady, walking toward the unknown¡­ toward the next battle.

 21 - THE END

    The world around me was as bleak as ever.


    I stepped through the door, only to find myself standing in a desolate land wrapped in darkness. Withered black flowers surrounded me, lifeless and drained, silent witnesses to the misery of this place. The air was thick with the scent of dampness and emptiness, and an eerie silence swallowed everything whole.


    I felt it. A gaze piercing through me from afar. Watching.


    Red eyes, glowing like embers in the void.


    I lifted my gaze. Atop a towering throne sat a figure cloaked in shadows, their black hair draping over them like a shroud. A suffocating presence surrounded them, pulling everything into its abyss. My heart pounded violently, my fists clenched instinctively despite the tremor creeping through my fingers. I squinted, focusing on the details.


    And then, I froze.


    A brutal wave of shock crashed over me. That was no stranger. That was no illusion hiding behind the veil of nightmares.


    It was her.


    Eilaf.


    How? How could this be? Where was her innocence? Where was her laughter, the light that once pushed away the dark? But no¡­ what I was witnessing wasn¡¯t her. Not truly.


    She sat upon that ominous throne, her body relaxed as if she were the queen of this forsaken land. Her hands rested gently against her cheeks, her head tilted slightly, lips curled into a vacant, lifeless smile¡ªa corpse¡¯s smile. It held no warmth, no humanity¡­ just a ghost of what she once was.


    Then, she spoke. Her voice was quiet, yet it carried an unsettling weight, a presence that sent a chill down my spine.


    "I am your mind¡­ I am all your thoughts."


    She descended from her throne, humming softly¡ª"hmm, hmm, hmm"¡ªa haunting melody that seeped into the air like an omen.


    Her footsteps were slow, deliberate, each one dragging through the silence like a blade scraping against stone. The closer she came, the heavier the air became, suffocating, inescapable.


    "How are you, my dear?" she cooed, her voice smooth yet laced with something sinister.


    Then, with unnatural grace, she placed her cold hands upon my shoulders. My entire body tensed as her face drew closer, too close¡ªa nightmare unfolding before my eyes. The distorted features, the hollow gaze, the cruel smile stretching unnaturally across her lips¡­ it wasn¡¯t her. It wasn¡¯t Eilaf.


    And yet, she continued.


    "I know, my dear¡­ the world has been cruel to you."


    Her breath was cold against my skin, her presence swallowing every ounce of warmth.


    "But don''t worry. I''m here."


    Her fingers gripped my shoulders tighter, her voice dropping to a whisper.


    "Just submit to me, and I will stay with you. You will never be alone again. You''re not planning to abandon me, are you?"


    She let out that chilling hum once more, tilting her head as if observing something fascinating¡ªthe fear in my eyes.


    "Hmm, hmm¡­ what''s with that look? I''ve reached you now, haven¡¯t I?"


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    Her smile never wavered.


    I swallowed the dread choking my throat and forced the words out. "You¡¯re not the one I know."


    Laughter. A twisted, hollow laugh that sent shivers down my spine.


    "Oh, but you made me this way."


    Her fingers traced my jawline as if to mock my resistance, her gaze piercing into mine.


    "I am all of your mind, every thought, every whisper you ignored."


    Then she leaned even closer, her lips barely moving as she spoke:


    "I paved the road for you, guided you here. I may have played with you a little, made you believe you were happy with me. But wasn''t I the one who saved you from your miserable reality?"


    I clenched my fists. "This place is far worse."


    Her expression didn¡¯t falter. "Oh?"


    A quiet chuckle escaped her.


    "You''re just now realizing that?"


    She tilted her head, feigning innocence before her voice dropped into a whisper again.


    "You couldn''t control your desires without me. Without me¡­ you''d be nothing but a lonely, pitiful existence."


    I shoved her away with all my strength, but she barely budged. She stood there, smirking, as if she had expected this all along.


    "No! I won¡¯t let you control me anymore!"


    I clutched my head, pressing harder and harder, trying to hold onto something¡ªthe book. Yes, the book¡­ This was all inside my mind, inside my imagination, and if that was the case, then I could summon the book.


    But she wouldn¡¯t let me.


    "You won¡¯t be able to!" she screamed, stretching her hands into the air, as if trying to tear my focus apart with her long, thin fingers.


    Suddenly, the wilted black flowers surrounding me began emitting an unbearable noise, like a chorus of suffering voices, as if they, too, were trying to strip away the last remnants of my will. From the darkness around me, other sounds arose¡­ hushed whispers, twisted laughter, broken sobs¡­


    Then, her laughter filled the space, echoing, deafening, designed to shatter any mind capable of resistance.


    I screamed, the pain tearing through me, drowning me in this abyss!


    But I refused to give in. "I CAN DO IT!"


    And then¡­


    The book appeared.


    I saw it before me, pulsing with light in the midst of the darkness. Without hesitation, I grasped it tightly and ran.


    But she wasn¡¯t far behind.


    "My dear¡­"


    Her voice slithered through the air, but this time, it was different¡­ as if she was breathing directly into my ear. Her words chased me through every corner.


    "My dear¡­ my dear, where are you?"


    The whisper became a scream.


    "MY DEARRRR!"


    She was getting closer¡­!


    I had only one choice.


    I tore out the first page of the book.


    "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"


    A wretched scream erupted, shaking the entire world around me, as if I had torn away a piece of this cursed realm itself.


    I didn¡¯t stop.


    Another page.


    "NOOOOOO!"


    Her shrieks intensified, the ground trembled, but I kept going.


    Another¡­ page¡­


    With every page I ripped, the screams grew louder, the chaos surged, as if this world was desperately clinging to me with its final breath.


    But there was no other way.


    Darkness finally faded¡­


    I woke up.


    I was back in my world, sitting at my desk, my hands still trembling, my heart pounding as if trying to break free from my chest. I cried.


    I cried for everything I had been through, for everything I had seen, for what I had lost and what I had reclaimed. I swore to myself that I would never let my mind control me again, never again be a slave to that darkness.


    Days passed. I returned to life, to the reality I had always tried to escape. Then, one morning, my phone rang. A voice on the other end spoke with excitement:


    "There¡¯s a conference you must attend! Your novel has become a massive success, and people want to hear from you¡ªabout your thoughts, your plans."


    I was stunned. Then, I was thrilled. Me? My novel? A success?


    I went to the conference, standing before a crowd, filled with excitement, pride, and an energy I had never felt before. I looked at their faces, their eager eyes, and then I spoke, my voice steady:


    "Never¡­ give up. Not to those around you, not to your fears, not to anything that tries to steal your essence. Struggle, endure, fall, rise, fight until you achieve what you desire. No one can stop you but yourself. You can do this."


    A thunderous applause filled the hall, and for the first time, I felt truly alive.


    After the conference ended, I sat at the designated area to sign books. A long line of readers stood before me, happy faces, shining eyes, people holding my novel as if it were a treasure. I signed each one, smiling, grateful for every word of thanks, every look of admiration.


    Then, the last person in line stepped forward.


    He held out his book with a shy smile, handing it to me as he said:


    "Please, sign it with your name¡­ and add mine next to yours."


    I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his request, but I smiled. I looked at him and gently asked:


    "And what¡¯s your name?"


    A small smile formed on his lips before he spoke the name :


    "My name¡­ is Eilaf."