TV (2)
[Your role is Victim 15.]
[Break the confinement and escape.]
What the hell? Where was this now?
Confinement? Escape?
Whatever that TV bastard had done, the world had turned black and white.
From a bright room to a dark basement.
I was just about to press myself into a corner in this suddenly transformed Backrooms space when I heard a clank.
Somehow, my left foot was already chained to a metal pipe fixed to the wall.
A broad iron plate, linked to a chain thicker than my thumb, had clamped down on my ankle and wasn’t about to let go.
I jerked at it, but it had been fastened so tightly it wasn’t budging.
When the hell had this been put on me?
Yeah, this was probably that TV bastard’s doing.
I didn’t know what the hell a “role” was supposed to mean, but it looked like it had forcibly assigned me one and thrown me into the scene.
In my case, Victim 15.
Not even 1. What kind of half-assed number was 15?
“Ha. Cute.”
Either way, if I escaped, that would be the end of it, right?
Then fine. I’d give it exactly what it wanted.
I’d just smash the damn thing with my hammer and Black Moon.
Except the Black Moon that should have been hanging at my waist was gone.
What?
Where the hell did it go?
There was no way I’d left Black Moon behind.
And not only was the lantern that had clearly guided me here nowhere to be seen, even the hammer hadn’t been summoned.
My abilities wouldn’t work either?
The bracelet had vanished before I’d even gotten to use it properly.
No, even if an item could be taken away, was it really possible to block my abilities too? That was way too favorable for whatever anomaly this was.
What in the world was this?
Flustered, I tried to pry the chain loose with my bare hands, but it had been bound so tightly it didn’t move an inch.
After a frantic look around, I found that all my weapons were gone.
All that was left was a tiny hacksaw lying right at my feet.
“You want me to cut through a chain with this? You kidding me?”
Compared to the chain, the hacksaw was absurdly pathetic, so thin it looked like it would snap if I made one wrong move.
I looked around some more, but there was nothing else.
Even when I grabbed the pipe and pulled with all my strength, it didn’t so much as wobble. Whatever the hell it was made of, it wasn’t moving.
Skrk, skrk, skrk, skrk, skrk-
I gripped the chain and started sawing, but all I managed was a faint scratch. It didn’t dig in even a millimeter.
“What am I supposed to do?”
I was about to hurl the hacksaw away, then quietly lowered it again.
It was the only thing I had. I couldn’t throw it away.
But I still had no idea what I was supposed to do next.
The pipe and chain were both too tough; if I tried to cut them with this saw, I’d need about a hundred years.
By then, the blade would have worn itself down to nothing anyway.
What even is this place? Why does everything look black and white?
Everything was divided only by light and shadow, as if I’d somehow been dropped into a black-and-white film.
I had clearly turned on the TV, and the moment I changed channels and switched it off, some “masterpiece theater” thing had started.
So was this inside a movie?
That TV bastard had also given me the role of Victim 15 and a mission to escape when he disappeared.
“An escape room, huh... though I don’t exactly see any puzzles.”
If this was an escape room, there should at least be boxes, pictures, or some clue prop around here.
But there wasn’t a single piece of trash to be seen, not even at arm’s reach.
In this dim basement, all there was were the wall pipe, the chain, and the hacksaw.
There was a stairway and railing leading upstairs right in front of me, and a side door too, but in my current state they might as well have been a mirage.
And where the door to the original TV viewing room should have been, a pitch-black hallway yawned open.
Tch. Whatever this was, I had to get the chain off first.
I wouldn’t be able to explore the side door or the hallway until I cut myself loose.
Were they seriously planning to lock me up here, making me saw away until I starved to death?
“Fine. Let’s see who wins.”
I had the blacksmith title, didn’t I? A little chain like this?
I’d chew right through it.
I settled down properly, braced myself, and started sawing in earnest.
* * *
“...Fuck. You win, you bastard.”
I lay flat on my back and stared at the ceiling.
The moment I let go of the hacksaw, my fingers were still trembling.
Happy now? If you’re watching, come out and light a damn victory flare.
I’d really like to see the face of this bastard.
My back felt like it was about to split apart from spending hours hunched over like that, and my neck had seized up so badly it probably had a cramp.
My palms were raw from that useless sawing.
Enough.
This wasn’t a chain left here to be cut.
Even the pipe wouldn’t take a damn mark, bolted solidly into the wall and not moving an inch.
I’m not doing it. I can’t do it.
You won, so handle it yourself.
But even after I gave up and sprawled there, shouting that I’d lost, nothing came out.
Was it really just planning to keep me locked up?
So I could keep doing that cursed quest?
Escape? You should at least give me something real to work with. I mean, what was I supposed to do with shackles that didn’t even have a keyhole?
Well, congratulations. You got exactly what you wanted, you bastard. I really am going to die miserably here.
Was there ever such a blatant rig job?
If I’d at least fought and lost, I wouldn’t have felt quite this cheated.
Who knew I’d go through all that trouble making weapons only to have them confiscated and end up like this?
And Jemmin hadn’t said a word about any Backrooms anomaly that could suppress abilities.
Feeling completely hollow, I just closed my eyes.
I was thirsty. I was hungry.
I didn’t even have the energy to get angry anymore.
“Aaa... aaah... ah...”
“Huh? I heard something.”
“A-ah...!”
“Is someone there?”
While I was lying there blankly, a sound drifted through the gap in the side door on the second floor.
What I heard faintly was probably a scream...
So I wasn’t alone in this space after all?
I shouted to see if anyone else was there, but instead of an answer, screams rang out one after another.
“Aaaagh, aaaaagh-”
“S-stay back, aaaaagh!”
“Kyaaagh! S-save me—!”
The screaming slowly, steadily drew closer.
It was getting louder and clearer.
People’s screams echoed through the room.
Dammit, was the anomaly moving now?
But the chain still had me pinned down, so I couldn’t check what was happening beyond the side door.
“D-dammit! At this rate, nghhh!”
A man’s voice, so clear it sounded like he was shouting right beside me.
The mysterious man cried out right after the screams began, then let out a strangled groan and started thumping around.
What the hell was he doing?
The screaming was still a little ways off, but the man kept forcing down horrible grunts and cursing in between them.
“Fuck! God-fucking-dammit, nghhh! Cut, cut already!”
Cut what?
If it was the chain, that would be a waste of time.
As the screams reached the room nearby, the man’s groaning grew harsher.
Had he found another way out?
“Hey! Can you hear me?! Are you tied up too? Did you find a way out over there?”
“P-please, someone help me!”
“I’m tied up too!”
“Shit, then what good is that! I’ve got my hands full already, so quit distracting me and handle it yourself!”
“At least tell me what you’re doing! If we break free together, it’ll be easier to escape!”
Dammit. Was he just ignoring me?
There was still the sound of something being scraped apart through the wall.
Would it kill him to tell me what method he’d found?
“Your foot!”
“Huh?”
“Cut off your foot, you dumbass! That’s the only way out of here! There’s a draft coming from the passage in back, so get out through there!”
“No, I mean, even so, cutting off my foot...”
“Then just die there!”
...Fuck. So this classic horror film was Saw after all?
A movie about a vicious kidnapper whose escape methods amounted to self-mutilation bordering on fatal injury.
And I was one of the victims in that movie.
Fuck, that was why the only tool I’d been given was a hacksaw.
It hadn’t been for the chain or the pipe.
It had been prepared so I could cut up my own body.
“...This is the only way?”
The foot I looked down at was scratched red and swollen from the shackle.
It already hurt now, and he wanted me to saw into it? Was he insane?
But like the man said, there was only one way.
The fragile human body didn’t have the strength to resist a saw.
Bone might get in the way a little, but it wasn’t comparable to the chain.
I could feel a draft blowing in from behind me.
If I cut off my foot before the anomaly got here, I might still be able to escape on one leg or something.
When I set the hacksaw back down below my ankle bone, the swollen flesh split with a pop and blood began to run out.
No. Just because that passage looks like a way out doesn’t mean it actually is one.
How was I supposed to know what was waiting at the end of that dark tunnel, or how long it was?
It might be quicker to bleed out to death, for all I knew.
And in the original story, one act of self-harm hadn’t set anyone free. Something worse had been waiting.
Thunk-
At that moment, I heard the side door of the next room open.
The anomaly. It was here.
What happened to the man?
Did he run?
“N-no, no, stay away! You monster, stay away!”
“Kekekekekekekek.”
“No, aaaaagh! Stop! Sto- ohhk, khrrk!”
So he still hadn’t escaped.
It sounded like he’d been trying to cut off his foot, and in the end he’d failed.
The man screamed as though he were being attacked by the anomaly.
No, and here I was worrying about someone else in this situation.
I scraped the chain with the hacksaw again, then gripped it with both hands and shook hard, trying to wrench it from the pipe.
Clank-clank-clank-clank!
“......”
There was something deeply wrong about how loud the chain sounded and how silent everything else felt.
Gooseflesh prickled up my arms as I let go of the chain.
The man in the next room who’d been screaming had gone quiet too.
What I could hear instead was something crawling.
Shrrk- shrrrk-
A wet mop-like sound drifted from beyond the side door.
It was coming.
Slowly, but with steady, inevitable terror.
I didn’t have time anymore.
I focused on the chain again, but the already useless blade kept slipping off at odd angles.
Was this really how it ended?
Was there no choice but to cut off my foot?
Then, at last, the side door opened and the thing revealed itself.
“Kekekekekekekek.”
“...You sure are ugly.”