The rabbit asked me worriedly:
"Are you okay? Why are you crying?"
I offered no reply, merely sitting up gently despite having downed a hundred (or maybe a billion) of whatever those sedatives were. It was strange enough that I wasn't dead yet, so a little more strangeness didn't really matter.
Seeing she so sad makes me really want to lick her head, as if it contained a strange enchantment and a peculiar allure.
But then again, maybe it was just me, feeling more refreshed and happier than ever, which was truly strange. Yet when I touched my forehead, it wasn't a last surge of life before dying—its temperature was completely normal.
"Do it, for me and for us."
Limbo 2's voice rang out once again, but this time it felt more like a command than a conversation (did I do something wrong?).
"But why do you want to kill him?" (Why did I switch pronouns?)
"Because Vassago isn't a good child."
A soft giggle rang out after she finished speaking.
I asked her, even though this wasn't the first time she had said odd things I couldn't understand. But this time, I could vaguely guess who the Vassago she was talking about might be.
In terms of probability, the event that the Rabbit's name is Vassago equals 1, because I am certainly not him. After all, that demand didn't use the word 'suicide'—it used 'kill.' Which means I don't need to kill myself, meaning there is only one other person left in this room.
The Rabbit.
Although there is no evidence or logical reasoning to prove he is Vassago, according to the properties of mutually exclusive events, if A is true, then B is false.
Although it's also possible that it is neither of us, she has been hinting at killing the Rabbit all along. Thus, the probability of Vassago being anyone else is far too low to be worth considering.
"Of course, since I am already your lover, I will help you out a little. Look to the east. Where the yellow flower with twelve petals is, peel back the wallpaper there."
I followed her words blindly. I didn't think about anything, I didn't doubt anything, I didn't care about anything, I wasn't bothered by anything. Simply obeying what she said to the letter.
One edge was slightly curled up, as if it had been pasted on hastily and insecurely. I grabbed the curled part and pulled, tearing off a huge section of the wall (it really was pasted on hastily and insecurely, after all). Inside was a pitch-black void.
I reached my hand in, felt around for a bit, and pulled out a fruit knife (only now, I was going to use it for the wrong purpose).
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
The clock (why was it even here?) kept ticking away, remaining the only sound in this murky silence between me and the Rabbit—whom I now think I should call Vassago.
"Don't be so afraid, just 'stick it in,' my beloved husband."
Limbo 2's voice rang out; she had an astonishing ability to change her tone. I felt as if the her from a second ago and the her of this exact moment were not the same person.
"I am your wife, Akusha... I was once your dream uterus, but now I am a dream wife, protecting my dream Paramour..."
[Author's note: Since this line is way too sus, I had to clarify right away—it's a parody of the line "I am your daddum, Lo... I was once your dream male, but now I am a dream dad, protecting his dream daughter..." from Lolita by Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov, 1899–1977.]
But...
Why didn't the Rabbit run? He could have.
I slowly lowered my knees to the ground, pinning him down with my hands, my fingers applying very gentle force.
His small body was swallowed in my shadow. Yet the expression on his face was calmer than ever. It was as if he had just accomplished something he had spent his entire life pursuing.
I kept waiting, and he really was right here all along. Unafraid, even as I used this knife to gouge out his left eye, the ocular fluid oozing out and trickling down my hands—how chillingly cold it felt.
Blood kept soaking into my mind; I didn't understand what I was doing or why I was doing it. And I had the same question about what the Rabbit was doing.
He smiled, so relieved. He had legs, yet no desire to run away. He just kept on smiling, smiling so foolishly.
"Why didn't you run away?"
"Because of Akusha."
I didn't understand anything at all—neither what he said nor myself. Once again, I raised the knife high and stabbed him repeatedly.
1... then 10... then a hundred times more. Until the Rabbit's pure white fur was dyed in blood... my blood.
This hand of mine feels no pain, only guilt.
It doesn't belong to me, for I am not worthy.
The Rabbit opened his mouth to say something, but I cowardly ran away.
I didn't even understand what I was trying to run from—perhaps myself? Just endlessly searching in aimless lostness, caring nothing for tomorrow.
The corridors kept twisting inside the face. The walls were melting within these slimy eyes. It just went on endlessly, never bringing anything to an end.
Yet amidst this endlessness, a mystical purple hue flashed. I slowed down a bit. A truly sharp stone.
It was placed on a stone pedestal that, fortunately, I could reach.
I moved closer to it and picked it up. Located my carotid artery. Raised that purplish stone and slit my throat (don't worry, my beloved readers, this is just a dream. I swear).
Fifteen seconds passed. I was lying on the ground, feeling that something was off. Sunlight was still shining into my eyes, instead of the familiar darkness I usually saw. Has even the darkness abandoned me?
But soft footsteps rang out, like the sound of a young girl. I looked toward it—that enchanting sound.
I saw Shi and Dozaemoon (I hope my readers haven't forgotten these two, or else I'd be really sad).
They walked over with an axe, which wasn't much of a surprise. Well, if I couldn't do it myself, I'd just leave it to them.
The two of them approached and...
Patted my head.