Page 36 of Devil's Delirium

As we made our way forward, the light of our torches distorted the familiar shapes of the decaying wallpaper and crumbling plaster. Every shadow, every creak of the floorboards, sent a shiverdown my spine.

I strained to listen for any sign of movement or life within the strangely oppressive silence. How many contestants were left now? It was possible most of them had perished in the first half hour on the ground floor. I was lucky to have come across Reaper. Even if I didn’t get out of the house alive, at least my chances of killing Ivan had increased substantially. At times, the distant echoes of whispered voices and muffled footsteps teased, drawing us closer, though my instinct was always to recoil.

As we stepped forward, the scent of smoke finally appeared and swiftly grew stronger, guiding us like a beacon through the labyrinthine corridors. It was a small comfort amidst the shadow and despair, a glimmer of hope that we clung to desperately as we ventured on.

Pressing onward, my nerves fraught with anticipation, we followed the cigarette smoke wafting through the stale air. Like a lingering specter, it led us through the murky depths of the haunted house. The smell became pungent; the sharp, earthy aroma of burning tobacco tickled my nostrils and set my nerves more on edge.

Hopeful, we quickened our pace, following the trail of smoke in silence with nothing more than facial expressions and hand signals between us. But as we rounded the next corner, we found ourselves standing in an empty corridor—the only evidence of any presence at all, just a faint echo of that smoke.

Disappointment pulled me under like a dark curse, the lingering odor of smoke barely recognizable with each step forward. We exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the setback in our search for matches.

I shot Reaper a bewildered expression and mouthed,What the fuck?

He responded with a frown and motionedto keep going.

We wouldn’t be deterred. We had no choice. It was kill or be killed, and first on that list was anyone getting in the way of catching up to Ivan. We weren’t getting out of here until the bitter end anyway. So, we pressed on, continuing our quest through the haunted house.

Our footsteps echoed through a large, hollow foyer as we ventured further, encountering a pair of imposing double doors at the far end. Curious about potential treasures, we exchanged glances, wordlessly agreeing to explore further.

But as we approached the doors, a sudden chill descended upon the air, sending chills down my arms. When a spectral presence materialized, its blue form shifting and twisting, I recoiled two steps. Reaper grabbed my arm. “Shhhh, it’s alright.”

“Is it?” Eyebrows high, I tried to tell him I disagreed without saying the words out loud. Supposedly, there were entities of all sorts in the hotel, from evil poltergeists to the ghosts of past contestants, to completely innocent spirits who had accidentally been trapped inside. No prizes for telling who trapped them.

“I promise,” Reaper said quietly to me. Then he turned to the specter and, ignoring it, reached for the door handle behind it.

“You may not pass!” Its voice echoed with a deep, otherworldly resonance.

“What are you going to do, spirit?” Reaper asked, pushing forward. Suddenly, he collided with an invisible barrier, his body jerking to a halt before rebounding backward, yanking me along with him.

“It is forbidden for anyone to cross this threshold. For any reason whatsoever.”

We paused, our curiosity piqued by the entity’s cryptic proclamation. Why were we being denied entry? “What are you guarding, spirit?”

“That is for me to know and you to… no. That is notyour business.”

I bit my lip and tugged on Reaper’s hand. “Let’s go the other way.”

“No, I think this is a lead.” He turned back to the specter. “Are there any matches in there, by chance?”

The air grew heavy with anticipation, tinged with the metallic tang of fear that oozed from the walls. As the spectral entity hovered before us like a mirage, it finally relented and revealed the truth that lay shrouded behind the forbidding double doors. “Everything you might need is behind these doors… Fuck.”

With a shared glance of determination, we squared our shoulders and confronted the entity, demanding answers. “I thought so. How do we get in?”

“There’s no getting past me.” The entity remained steadfast in its refusal to divulge its secrets, its gaze unyielding as it barred our path with spectral authority.

Undeterred by the entity’s ominous warning, we resolved to uncover the truth at any cost. “What do you want?” asked Reaper.

“Nothing. You said it yourself. I’m a spirit. What could I want?”

Reaper tapped his chin. “Hmmm. Fear, pain, blood, tears…”

The spirit perked up at some point during Reaper’s list. “Say it slower,” I suggested.

“No, I don’t care,” said the spirit.

Reaper held up a finger. “Fear?”

“Nope.”

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