Raymond's body could no longer move at all. It had gone completely numb, as if every sense within it had been shut down without warning, without explanation, and without any sign of when it would end.
"My entire body… I can't move it at all…!?" he muttered inwardly.
He kept trying—again and again—to force his limbs to respond, to regain even the slightest control. But no matter how hard he struggled, his body refused to obey him. At the same time, the faces of the dead continued to appear before him, hovering in the darkness, lingering far longer than they should have.
In this state, Raymond could do nothing but endure.
"Damn it… can't I even rest…!?"
Gradually, those human faces began to change.
Their skin started to melt.
Their features distorted.
And from the rotting flesh, countless maggots began to pour out, writhing and crawling in endless numbers, as if feeding on what little remained of their existence.
(The sounds of them continued to echo)
Those voices… those sounds… they slowly began to consume Raymond's mind, gnawing at his sanity piece by piece.
"Is this… really the end this time…!?"
Before his thoughts could fully settle, something else began to emerge.
From the ground beneath him—
Heads.
Dozens of them.
They rose slowly from the darkness, belonging to the same black creatures that had been chasing him before.
Each head had a different shape.
Some resembled wolves.
Some resembled humans.
Some resembled sheep.
And others… something far more grotesque, something that didn't belong to any known creature.
Those heads began to bite into Raymond's flesh.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Tearing him apart piece by piece, until the meat of his body seemed to vanish, leaving behind only the bare structure of bone beneath.
(Krak-krak—the sound of bone and flesh being crushed by relentless bites)
"Damn it… they just keep multiplying…!?" Raymond muttered weakly.
"Maybe this really is the end…"
"Will I go to heaven… or will I be dragged into hell to be tortured endlessly…? God… you're truly cruel…" he whispered.
The heads continued their feast, digging deeper into his body—into his abdomen—until his internal organs spilled out, scattering across the ground beneath him.
(Tes… tes… the sound of human organs falling one by one)
And yet—
Raymond felt nothing.
No pain.
Not even a trace of it.
At that moment, only one question remained in his mind.
Was this real?
Or was this merely another illusion created by those creatures?
"Is this… just a hallucination…?"
His vision began to blur.
Worse than before.
His body grew even weaker, as if every drop of blood within him had been completely drained away.
"…Maybe this isn't a hallucination after all…
haha… what a ridiculous way to die…"
At that moment, tears began to form in his eyes and slowly rolled down his cheeks.
From the outside, his body might still appear intact.
But inside—
Raymond was completely broken.
Shattered beyond repair.
Beneath the silent gaze of the moon, which seemed to watch this cruelty without interference, Raymond offered his final prayer.
"If I truly am a human destined to die in such a miserable way… then I will accept it… with everything I have…" he whispered softly.
But that prayer—
Was swallowed.
Drowned out by the voices of the faces before him.
As if to declare that his words would never reach the heavens.
Then—
His tears changed.
They turned into blood.
Flowing endlessly, like a waterfall pouring from his eyes, staining his face, soaking into his clothes, marking him with the weight of despair.
"You will die…"
"Die… die…"
"Die…!?" came a small, familiar voice.
It was the child.
The same little girl who had died together with her mother.
"Haha…?"
"Hahahaha…!?"
The faces that once spoke in strange, incomprehensible languages—like some form of twisted incantation—now erupted into laughter.
Mocking him.
Mocking his suffering.
Mocking his end.
"Bastards… you're enjoying this, aren't you…!?" Raymond muttered bitterly.
At this point, he could do nothing but surrender.
Waiting.
For death to finally take him.
But then—
Just as he gave in completely—
A light appeared.
From above.
A brilliant radiance pierced through the darkness of the night, tearing it apart, erasing everything in its path.
The grotesque faces—
The black creatures—
All of them were reduced to ash, scattered and carried away by the cold night wind.
(The voices began to fade)
(Silence followed)
(Bushhh…)
"What… what just happened…!?"
As the last remnants of those entities vanished, Raymond felt something behind him.
A presence.
Warm.
Protective.
As if someone was shielding him from everything that had just happened.
Then—
A voice.
Soft.
Gentle.
"You… must continue living…"
It was the voice of a woman.
Before the presence disappeared, Raymond caught a glimpse—
A white dress.
Beautiful beyond words.
Adorned with intricate floral patterns and strange symbols that shimmered faintly, as if they carried meanings beyond human understanding.
And then—
She was gone.
Swallowed by the same silence that had once suffocated him.
"Was that… an angel…?" Raymond
whispered, confused.
Slowly, he pushed himself up from the ground.
He checked his body—
But there were no wounds.
Not even a scratch.
Only then did Raymond realize the truth.
He had been trapped in an illusion.
One so real, it was indistinguishable from reality itself.
"…That felt completely real…" he muttered.
As his thoughts slowly returned, Raymond understood one thing clearly—
He couldn't stay there any longer.
Forcing his trembling legs to move, he began to walk again. His body still shook from the lingering terror, but he refused to stop.
"I… need to get out of here…"
Step by step, he moved forward, deeper into the darkness of the forest, surrounded by thick fog that refused to lift.
Then—
A faint light appeared in the distance.
A small oil lamp, hanging from a wooden post that had been planted into the ground.
Beside it—
A narrow path.
Leading somewhere.
"Is this… a path to a village…?" Raymond wondered.
With what little strength he had left, he followed it.
(Dak… dak… the sound of his heartbeat echoed loudly)
Each step grew heavier than the last.
His breathing became ragged.
His vision dimmed little by little.
His body weakened further with every passing second.
Until finally—
In the distance—
He saw it.
An old village.
But his body could no longer endure.
Without warning, Raymond collapsed to the ground, his consciousness slipping away.
"…Is this… as far as I can go…?"
As the darkness began to consume him, he heard something—
Footsteps.
Slow.
Approaching.
Accompanied by the faint sound of an oil lamp swaying gently in the night.
"Damn it… is it an enemy… or…"
"What happened to you, young man…?" a voice called out from in front of him.