Ahhh!"
Yuki's scream tore through the silence as she jolted awake on the filthy wooden floor. The boards
groaned under her weight, rough with dirt and splinters.
but none of that was the reason for her cry of terror.
Her whole body throbbed with pain.
Every part of her body screamed with the memory of being stabbed.
No… she was certain of it.
She had been stabbed.
Not once.
Not twice.
Over and over again.
By the same hands ruthless.
Someone she had never seen before in her life had appeared out of nowhere. While she was walking the lonely streets of London, he had struck without warning, plunging his sliver knife into her body.
Slashing and cutting open her flesh, allowing the blood from her body to spill out from her stomach on to the streets below.
The pain tore through her mind, dragging her in and out of consciousness.
And not allowing her think for a second as she was violently assaulted with the feeling of pain and agony.
Her voice broke as she screamed, crying desperately for help. She begged, pleaded with anyone who might hear. She screamed until her throat started to hurt, until her voice gave out entirely and her body couldn't producer anymore noise,
Seconds feel like hours as her vision dimmed while it became harder and harder to think, harder to cling to that single thought of staying alive. Fear and agony clouded her mind until even breathing felt impossible.
But no one came.
no one came to save
Not a single soul.
The Desperation that filled her lungs, The panic that came from her throat the fear her voice produced while calling for help to anyone was met with silence.
And yet, she fought to live.
So, what if no one came? So, what if her cries for help vanished into thin air? She refused to simply lie down and die. No human truly wanted death the fear of it was carved into their very being scenes birth. And Yuki was no exception.
But…
But every attempt to fight back ended the same.
The man's strength was far stronger than hers and she was easily overpowered, helpless against his overwhelming strength. He towered over her, brutal and unrelenting, a force she could never hope to overcome.
She was only sixteen. How could someone like her possibly fight back? How could she even dream of winning?
Even if she managed to push him away what then? She would bleed out, collapsing into death's embrace before she could take a single step away from the man.
The thought of fighting back was foolish.
She knew that.
She felt it deep within her still-beating heart.
The end was closing in. With every heartbeat, every ragged breath, death crept closer.
And yet…
If she was going to die, then at the very least, she would drag him down with her.
It was the only resolve she had left. If her life was to end here, then her final breath would not be wasted.
Gathering what little strength remained, Yuki lunged forward. Her neck snapped upward toward the man's throat, teeth shining in the moon light with the solo aim to kill or hurt the man Infront of her, aiming to sink into his flesh with the last of her will power.
After all, what was the use of strength if she was already dying?
There was only one thought left in her mind
take her killer with her.
But in the haze of pain and exhaustion clouding her mind, Yuki misjudged the reach of her bite. Her vision blurred, thoughts drowned in agony and instead of sinking her teeth into his flesh, she bit down on her own tongue.
A sharp, bitter taste of blood flooded her mouth.
Her eyes widened in shock, disbelief twisting across her pale face. How could she make such a mistake? At the very moment she had resolved to fight to the end… she had turned her last act of defiance against herself.
But no matter how much she wanted to undo it, the truth was merciless.
It was already too late.
The pain crashed into her brain like a thunderclap, shattering the last fragments of consciousness she still clung to. Her vision dimmed, the world narrowing into shadows.
And in that final moment before darkness claimed her she saw him.
His hand Looming above her as his knife raised high, gleaming coldly in the air.
Before
it arced downward toward her face.
A flood of pain and regret filled her fading mind.
So this… is the end…
But now, she found herself panting hard, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. Her trembling hands clutched tightly at her clothes, nails digging into the fabric as if letting go would cause everything to slip away.
Even though she felt a sharp pain from her palms, she couldn't bring herself to release her grip.
Because only one thought consumed her mind.
How… the hell… am I still alive?
That question more than the pain, more than the fear was the only thing occupying her thoughts.
How could Yuki still be alive?
She was certain she had died back there. She remembered it clearly the sharp pain of her teeth biting down on her own tongue, the taste of blood feeling her mouth, and finally the crushing wave of regret that drowned her mind.
That pain, that despair those had been her final proof.
Proof that her life had ended.
And yet… here she was. Breathing and her heart still beating.
Alive.
But how?
Somehow, deep in her foggy mind, Yuki felt as though this was all just a dream. A fabrication her
brain had conjured up to trick her so she wouldn't realize she was already dead.
After all, people often said that when you die, your brain creates illusions, little worlds to soften the truth.
So she waited. She didn't move. She didn't breathe too deeply. She simply lay there, expecting the dream to collapse, waiting for the final flicker of neurons to extinguish so that she could truly die.
But as time passed… nothing happened.
The dream didn't end. Her body didn't fade away. She was still here alive, breathing.
Slowly, Yuki lowered her gaze to her hand, where a dull ache pulsed through her skin.
Her eyes widened in shock and curiosity when she finally saw it.
Her right hand was wrapped in bandages. Not only that, but the cloth itself was drenched in crimson, soaked through with blood.
"Hmm…" Yuki blinked, taken aback for only a few seconds before cautiously moving her hand. It hurt, yes, but not unbearably so. She wasn't a doctor, but the pain wasn't worsening, which in her mind meant it was just a minor injury not something that needed urgent attention.
So it's not broken. That's… good, she thought, a small, almost joyful smile tugging at her lips.
But that smile froze almost instantly.
Because she remembered.
The question.
The one she had been asking before she got distracted.
How was she alive ?
Why am was she here?
The thoughts struck her like a storm, crashing again and again inside her head. No matter how many times she asked, no answer came.
Her chest tightened with helplessness. Slowly, her gaze drifted away from her hand, sweeping across the place around her searching, desperate, for anything that could explain the nightmare she had found herself in.
She glanced around the room, searching for answers. Simply thinking asking questions in her own head wouldn't get her anywhere.
The only way to understand was to see.
To take in her surroundings.
To piece together the fragments of truth from what lay around her.
As her gaze swept the room, questions flooded her mind one after another.
Did the person who attacked me bring me here?
Or… was it someone else?
Someone who saved me?
But then why here?
Why not a hospital?
The uncertainty gnawed at her, twisting her stomach into knots.
And then her eyes caught it.
A mirror stood in the corner of the room.
It had a broken spider like crack ran across its mirror surface; shards scattered across the floor. A streak of blood traced the crack, marking some of the fallen fragments. A white sheet, speckled with a little blood, lay draped beside the broken glass.
The most shocking realization made Yuki's eyes widened in disbelief, her breath hitching in her throat as she stared not at the mirror itself, but at the reflection staring back at her.
Her.
Or rather… something that was supposed to be her.
The color of her eyes once a warm hazel brownhad turned into a sharp, piercing black, gleaming like polished onyx. Heavy eye bags rested beneath them, the marks of someone who hadn't slept for weeks.
Her hair, too red once, she had inherited from her mother was now an inky black, dark as a raven's wing.
But the worst part
The face staring back at her wasn't her own.
The features she had inherited from her mother, the faint beauty she had been told she carried—gone. In their place was a stranger's visage. The nose, the lips, the very structure of her face looked surgically altered, stripped of all familiarity.
It was as if her reflection belonged to someone else entirely.
No more than that.
It was as if she had somehow woken up inside another person's body.
And why… why do I look like someone else?
The thought raced through Yuki's mind, relentless and sharp. She took a cautious step closer to the mirror, careful not to disturb the shards of glass scattered across the floor.
Her reflection stared back at her, and shock was written across every feature of her face, though it no longer felt like hers.
Each heartbeat in her chest made her uneasy grow even more as she tried, desperately, to make sense of what she was seeing.
As she stepped closer, gripping the edge of the mirror in shock, Yuki examined herself carefully, hoping against hope that the changes she saw were a trick an illusion born from a mind pushed to its limits by stress and trauma.
But nothing had changed.
Her eyes were still black, her hair was still black, her face was still the same of an unknown person.
She no longer looked like the sixteen-year-old she once was.
Instead, she saw a stranger staring back at her: a frail, malnourished fourteen-year-ol.
The reflection was horrifying. It was hers, and yet it wasn't.
The strangest and most horrifying thing… a scar circled her neck, as if it had been inflicted weeks ago.
'Did… this person try to take their own life?'
'But… who is this person, anyway?'
The questions raced through Yuki's mind, but she couldn't linger. As suddenly, searing pain shot through her head, making her grit her teeth.
And then thoughts.
Thoughts that were not her own.
They flooded her mind, crashing in like a dam that had finally broken.
"Let… stay together."
"I am hungry."
"Go away! I don't need you!"
"live the life of the hunter you wanted"
"It hurts… it hurts!"
"Please… give me the medicine, doctor."
"I'll do anything…"
"go away from me "
"I don't want to die."
"mom where are you"
"sorry"
Multiple images and thoughts flooded her mind in a flash, crashing in all at once, leaving yuki gasping for air and lot dizzier from the ordeal, she struggled to stand up right as she separated her own memories from body she had taken in.
The thoughts in her mind overlapped, merging like two streams colliding into a single, violent river. Memories clashed one set was hers, Yuki's, from Earth: an ordinary girl with an ordinary life. The other belonged to Yuzuki, a girl from this world.
Through fragments of Yuzuki's memories, she saw her suffering silently, alone, crushed beneath the cruel weight of the Blood River Illness. The pain, the fear, the suffocating isolation—all of it poured into Yuki at once, blurring the lines between who she was… and who she had been.
And then… it hit her.
She was certain of it now.
She had entered the world of the game known as four relics of control a game she had played only once, out of boredom. It had been somewhat enjoyable, a way to pass the time. And now… here she was.
From the memories flooding her mind, she understood whose body she had taken: Yuzuki's. A girl who hadn't even been important in the game a minor background character, mentioned only in passing before her death. Her sole purpose had been to serve as a stepping stone for the main character's development.
And Yuki… was trapped in her life.
"Ha… ah…" she let out a pained grunt and huffed as the pain from the memories entering my head slowly faded, disappearing as if it had never been there.
Her legs gave way, and she sank slowly to the ground, careful not to cut herself on the scattered shards of glass. Her knees trembled, barely able to support her weight.
Her gaze fell to her trembling hand, wrapped in blood-soaked bandages. The air around her felt sharp and cold, slicing at her skin like invisible knives. She stood there for a few silent seconds, suspended between shock and disbelief.
Then, in a hollow, almost defeated whisper, she muttered, "Fuck… I'm doomed."
_______________
life is just suffering with no reward in the end