Horror Game (2)

"...It actually started..."

"..."

I was quite satisfied, watching the Demon King try to stop me, her pale hands trembling.

I'd gotten heated for a moment there, but I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't actually have the guts to play this game either. Just the background music was enough to make every hair on my body stand on end.

I'd already taught her the lesson that bluffing with nothing to back it up would get her bloodied. Time to just turn it off...

Huh?

No matter how much I looked, there was no way to quit from inside the game. So I just pressed the power button on the console.

...

Fuck! What kind of garbage game is this?

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I can't quit. Looks like we have to clear it before it'll turn off."

"What? Then what do we do?"

...Well, force-quit it, I guess.

"...You're the one supplying power to this console, right? Just yank all the mana out right now. That should shut it off."

"...If I do that, it might break. If I pull the mana out that suddenly..."

Come on. No way it would break from something like that...

...

But if, by some chance, it did.

She would lose one of her most precious treasures. The console she polished so carefully every morning and every evening. This old machine, one of the few ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠things she had to play with.

...I couldn't take that gamble.

"How many days would it take for the mana to drain on its own?"

"...Two weeks?"

That's a long damn time.

The Demon King going two weeks without her beloved console?

...

That's not happening.

...

"Go wait outside."

"Huh?"

"I'm good at horror games. I'll clear it, so just wait outside. Once it's cleared, we should be able to turn it off."

A blatant lie, but I was the one who'd started this, so I should be the one to clean it up. There was no reason for her to suffer through it with me.

...Well, it's not like I'd actually die of a heart attack, right?

"...R-really? By yourself?"

"Yeah. You at least should run. Hurry. Before I change my mind."

"...O-okay. The game description said not to play alone... there was a skull mark or something... but I'll trust you. Okay, then I'll go outside and read Omniscient Donkey Perspective..."

"Wait, don't go. Let's just play together."

Beep.

I hurriedly hit two-player start before she could walk out the door.

And so Annabelle began. We gripped the gamepads like we were swallowing bitter medicine.

Ding-di-ri-di-ri-ding, ting, ding-di-ri-di-ri-ding.

The intro played to the sound of a dusty xylophone.

She swallowed hard and pressed herself tight against my arm. Her pale, cold skin touched mine.

Then a scene played of several children surrounding one kid and tearing into him.

...

What kind of kids had dirty rags stuffed in their mouths? Their cursing was remarkably colorful.

I wanted to skip it, with the Demon King listening right beside me, but important clues for clearing the game might come out of this, so I had no choice but to watch.

The plot was predictable, if anything.

Tom was an elementary schooler and a compulsive liar with a gift for running his mouth. Same as always, he'd spun a wild story to get a rise out of his friends — pointing at an abandoned mansion and claiming a cursed doll named Annabelle lived there.

Tom's friends had all gone to the mansion to check if it was true, and found nothing. So the next day, the kids were jumping him.

Cornered, Tom's last-ditch Hail Mary was covering a lie with another lie.

You have to go at night for Annabelle to come out. I'm not lying. This time I'll go myself and bring back proof.

Sure, I had an impressive rap sheet of lying to the Demon King, but this kid was no ordinary piece of trash either.

What made this little shit truly vile was that he dragged his little sister along when he could have gone alone.

...Of course, that was because I'd pressed two-player mode.

"I-I don't want to. I want to go alone."

"That's right. You go alone!"

When Ann, the little sister, was being dragged along, the Demon King sided with her. She'd already figured out that Ann was about to become her character.

Regardless, Tom grabbed Ann's arm and hauled her toward the mansion. He'd bought a Western-style doll and some string from a shop, and packed a camcorder too.

...I see.

He was going to fake it with the doll he'd prepared. Film the thing with its limbs tied up in string and leave "evidence." Somehow I had a feeling Tom and I would get along.

"Huh? Come to think of it, doesn't that look kind of like a camera?"

...!!!

"Nooo!! I-it's a camcorder! It's different from yours!"

The Demon King had reacted to the camcorder. I was so grateful that what Tom had brought wasn't a Polaroid Camera that spat out photos on the spot.

"Hmm. I see."

We'd nearly had a tragedy worse than a horror game.

Once we entered the mansion, the dialogue stopped, and we had to control the characters ourselves. I worked the gamepad with a dead look on my face.

A quest arrived. To progress the story, we'd probably have to follow this until the game ended.

"Want to go first?"

"...No. You dragged me here, so you go first."

"...It wasn't me. Tom dragged her."

"Tom is you."

"...Fine. I'll go first."

She was only here because of the trolling that had turned this game on in the first place, so I was honestly grateful she was even playing along.

Every step Tom and Ann took was answered by the groan of old wooden floorboards. Thud. Thud. Creak. Creak.

...

Don't be scared. It's nothing.

I cast a spell on myself.

I'd been through land battles, sea battles, and aerial battles. I'd endured that hellish bullying from the Hero Party, hadn't I? This was just a fictional realm beyond a monitor, cooked up by some director on Earth who'd never even experienced real horror. No matter what jumped out, it couldn't touch the real me...

Crash.

"...!!!"

My balls shriveled up from the shock as I whipped my gaze toward the sound. Ann, who'd been following, had bumped into the wall and shattered a hanging picture.

I looked at the Demon King. Had she been playing with her eyes closed?

"...Then we can't progress."

"...Yeah... then."

The Demon King clung tightly to me.

With our nerves wound tight, we slowly walked toward the end of the fourth-floor hallway. The atmosphere was such that something leaping out wouldn't have been surprising at all — and yet nothing did. If a ghost had just come out yelling woooo, I'm a ghost, at least we wouldn't have been this anxious.

After walking for what felt like forever, we entered the room at the end of the right-hand hallway on the fourth floor.

Creeeak.

An empty room. Nothing in it.

"...Alright. We'll put the doll here... wait."

"What's wrong?"

The doll that had definitely been in the inventory was gone. Fuck. I knew it had been sending us through too easily.

"What do we do, then? Maybe we dropped it on the way?"

"I don't think that's it. Hold on... the achievement might have changed."

When a variable kicked in that wasn't the player's fault, the quest usually changed.

But even opening the quest window, the content hadn't changed at all.

...Hmm.

Ah.

When we'd come up to the fourth floor, the character had naturally walked in the direction they were facing, so I hadn't thought about the other end of the hallway.

"Let's try the opposite hallway."

"Oh, not here? Okay, okay."

Rattle, rattle.

Huh?

The door was locked. This was definitely the door we'd just opened to come in.

"It's locked."

"What? What do we do? Trapped in a place like this..."

Hearing that from the Demon King — a living legend of the being-trapped genre — was somehow funny. A quiz was written on the locked door's nameplate.

Written in sticky, blood-red letters. Get it wrong, and something would obviously jump out and go apeshit.

"...Haa."

This wasn't something you could clear in one go. Like Luke in the chili field we'd fought to get the Golden Calf, this was a structure built for the sacred art of save-scumming.

Do I have to see it once?

The law of horror games is that a ghost jumps out if you make a mistake. I wanted to clear it without slipping up and avoid the ghost if possible, but it seemed I had no choice.

"We've seen thirteen doors since coming to the fourth floor," the Demon King said.

"What? Were you counting?"

"...Yeah. Just in case."

That's the Demon King for you. She may have been lacking in software, but her hardware was overwhelming.

"Okay. Then..."

The mansion's structure, from the outside, had been perfectly symmetrical. When we'd come up the central staircase, there had been a single door sitting right in front of the stairs. Meaning if there were the same number of doors on both sides of that one, then as she'd said, there were twelve on this side — and the other side would match.

...Then twenty-five...

I had a basis, but it wasn't certain. I should give her a heads-up so she wouldn't get startled.

"Since we don't know for sure... close your eyes."

"Okay..."

She pressed herself even closer, burying her face in my shoulder. Didn't seem like she had any kind of face-buff from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looking at so-and-so's mug.

Scratch, scratch.

Tom wrote 25 with the pen he was holding.

...

Clunk. Creeeak.

The door opened. Even so, the Demon King still wouldn't lift her face from my shoulder.

"Thank goodness. You can come out now..."

Thud.

!!!!!

In that instant, my heart did a round trip all the way down to my bladder and back up.

Holy shit, that scared me!

The doll we'd brought in had been shredded to pieces and dropped onto the floor with a thud.

I desperately held back from shouting so the girl clinging to me wouldn't be startled. Fortunately, she seemed not to have seen it.

"Wh-why did you flinch? Did something come out?"

"...No. All the scary stuff is over. You can come out."

No need for the Demon King to see it.

...I took back what I'd said about not being a coward. My current situation — having to carry as a max-level coward from Coward Village's underground dungeon — was far too cruel.

...Still better than her seeing it.

That shredded doll was going to show up in my dreams. I was so scared that if the Demon King said she wouldn't sleep in my bed tonight, I'd ask to go to her room instead.

Let's finish this quick. Better to just take the shot and get it over with.

Thud, thud. Shuffle, shuffle.

...

The Demon King peeled off my arm and followed behind me again. We headed toward the opposite hallway. Taking a lesson from earlier, I memorized the pictures hanging in the corridor as we went.

Thud, thud. Shuffle, shuffle.

...

Click, click.

?

There was one more set of footsteps. But I didn't have the courage to look back. Whether the Demon King felt the same, she picked up her pace to match Tom's faster walk.

We arrived at the door at the other end. Unfortunately, there was another quiz.

...Portraits?

I'd only counted the number of pictures. And I'd barely managed even that while walking quickly.

...

Do we have to go back?

I whipped Tom's head around toward the hallway we'd come from — and in that instant, I realized it was impossible.

Standing in the middle of the corridor was the blonde doll from the game's cover, staring this way, perfectly still.

...

I swallowed. My whole body went rigid and I couldn't move, but I didn't take my eyes off the doll. Because the golden rule of horror games is that if you look away and then look back, she'll be right in your face, saying something, before she jumps you.

A gamer's instinct told me. We must not go back down that hallway.

I grabbed the Demon King's hand tight. If it were her, couldn't she one-shot Annabelle with a Meteor Drive?

"...What's the quiz?" the Demon King asked, having ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠noticed the doll late.

"The number of portraits hanging in the hallway."

"Portraits means pictures of people, right?"

"...Yeah."

"...Six."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah. I counted them as we came, just in case."

I trusted her and entered 6.

And then.

Annabelle said it — and came sprinting at us like hell.

Red light and black light from the monitor, Tom and Ann's screams tangled together into a vision of hell. The Demon King and I were clinging to each other with our whole bodies, lying flat on the floor like soldiers hiding in a trench.

...

The sound stopped. Leaving the Demon King still clinging tightly to me, I snuck a glance at the monitor.

...

Thank god. At least it's not from the very beginning.

"I think it's over. Get up."

"...Okay."

"...Sorry. For turning this game on for no reason. From now on I'll play it alone, so you can leave."

"No... it's okay. Instead..."

She linked her arm through mine. She couldn't hold my hand since we needed our hands for the gamepads, so this was probably the closest she could get.

"Hey, I'm sorry I got the picture count wrong too."

"...Sorry for what. I didn't even think about portraits at all."

"...Hehe. But being held so tight felt really nice."

"..."

This time I looked properly. Eight portraits, four vases, five landscape paintings. I carefully checked everything else just in case. I even counted the number of stairs going down from the fourth floor. No more variables after this.

Click, click.

When we reached the room at the end of those still-following doll footsteps, Annabelle appeared in the hallway just like before.

Without panicking, I correctly wrote in eight portraits, and the locked door opened.

Nothing.

There was no doll worth photographing anywhere. We didn't even have the one we'd originally brought.

...

The thought I'd been having since earlier seemed to be right.

Right now, only one doll came to mind.

Annabelle. Meaning photographing Annabelle had been the game's final objective from the start.

Well, of course a horror game — a haunted house — wouldn't just let you do your business and sneak out without the ghost noticing.

Then—

Creeeak.

With the sound of wood scraping, the door we'd come through opened. Annabelle was standing there.

...I have to film her first.

I opened the inventory to grab the camcorder...

!!!

The camcorder was gone. Then how was I supposed to film her? I hurriedly opened the quest window. Earlier it had definitely said to go photograph the doll at the end of the fourth-floor hallway. Now it had changed.

When I closed the quest window, Annabelle — who'd come through the door — was standing right in front of us, smiling.

I don't remember what came after very well. With control skills that were, if nothing else, god-tier, I weaved through the doll's pursuit and ran frantically toward the first-floor entrance.

Dadadash! Dadadadash! Dadadash!

I mashed the controller, dodging every kind of trap.

Eventually we made it down to the first floor and were about to go out the front door. I spotted a chandelier that reeked of danger, looking deliberately placed.

"Hey. You have to stop! Now!"

"Ah, okay."

Swoooosh! Crash-shaaatter!

I pulled off a stop-move. As expected, the chandelier smashed to pieces on the floor right in front of Tom and Ann. We ran again and threw open the front door, and morning sunlight seeped through the gap.

Haa, haa.

Tom and Ann, now outside, gasped for breath. We looked back at the mansion's front door. Through the open gap, Annabelle — who'd been chasing us — was standing there. And she delivered her final words.

?

Meet again my ass. You got wrecked in a footrace, so get lost, you cheap silicone lump.

Of course I didn't say it out loud. In case she came out of the screen...

My hands gripping the gamepad were soaked with sweat. I flipped her off with my middle finger. The Demon King wriggled her pale hand trying to copy me, so I quickly stopped her.

Ding-di-ri-di-ri-ding, ting, ding-di-ri-di-ri-ding.

The xylophone from the intro played. Overlapping with the sunrise, it no longer felt ominous.

The words I'd wanted to see throughout the entire game appeared on the screen. Watching the ending credits slowly roll, the tension drained away all at once.

"Phew."

"...You did well."

The Demon King, her head pressed firmly against my shoulder. A quit button had appeared on the title screen too.

...I couldn't sleep.

"Hehe, your turn. Alien!"

"...Hmm. Neon."

"You already used that."

"Did I. Then nickel."

...Was it because of what Annabelle had said at the end?

I'd told her to fuck off at the time, but now that I was trying to sleep, I was too scared to fall asleep. Horror games really weren't something you should play.

"Lie!"

Thanks to that, the Demon King — who'd ended up playing word-chain all night — was the only one having a blast.

...

...

!

Wait a second.

...

A chilling idea flashed through my mind.

"...Hey. Did you reattach that teddy bear's head that fell off earlier?"

I casually dropped a non sequitur on the Demon King.

"Huh? No? I was going to do it tomorrow."

"Didn't they say if you put off today's work until tomorrow, the dog that chased the chicken comes back to chase you?"

"...Uuut. Th-that's true."

"I think it'd be better to finish it today and then sleep."

"...Okay."

The Demon King, who'd been lying next to me, reluctantly got up, opened the door, and went out to fix the doll.

...

Dadadash.

I sprinted to the console. I scrolled down the game selection bar. I turned on Annabelle. Her terrifying face appeared, but I didn't give a shit — because of a situation that might be even scarier.

...

...The only data should be the one we just played, right?

Tap, tap.

I busily moved my fingers, digging through help, settings, everything — but nowhere was there a previous play record of the Demon King's...

...Achievements?

I pressed achievements.

...

...

No way.

It couldn't be.

It wouldn't be.

It must have been cleared by an adventurer who'd had the console before the Demon King got it.

...But the doubt remained. No matter how smart the Demon King was, those quiz answers she'd seemed to know in advance... I didn't know why, but was the one she'd gotten wrong in the middle on purpose too? Why?

...

Especially the chase with Annabelle at the end. Fine — I was good at games. That tracked.

But how?

No matter how talented she was at games, how had she followed all those movements?

And at the last chandelier, unlike me — who'd dodged on instinct — she had stopped as if she already knew.

...

Had she been steering me toward playing a horror game from the start?

Had she intentionally put grains of sand in the gamepad from the beginning, and while I was shaking it, moved the cursor to the horror game?

...

Shuffle, shuffle.

!

The Demon King's footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway. I quickly pressed the quit button, ran to my bedroom, and pulled the blanket over my head.

...

I swallowed. I remembered a few months ago, the first time we'd played Little Farm. It had been just like this then, too.

Shuffle, shuffle. Rustle.

The Demon King pulled back the blanket. She sent me a lingering crimson gaze, smiled softly, and lay down beside me. She took my hand and said,

"Lie. Your turn."

"...Im... Impo..."

...Impossible.

Why? Because she'd cleared it once before and been too scared to sleep...

So she wanted to keep me from sleeping too?

Why on earth?

Don't tell me.

Because she wanted to play word-chain with me all night?

...

No way.

If that was true, I had no idea from how far back she'd planned this.

It was a horror game in every sense of the word.