A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks again for continuing to read, comment and support this fic! I can't even begin to express how much I appreciate all of you! Now that we're diving head first into the darker horror elements of the series, I again urge everyone who may be sensitive to any of the tags listed above to exercise discretion and caution while reading this and any future chapters. This chapter in particular contains depictions of suicide and death. It should be noted that I do not endorse suicidal actions, and if you feel that you have these kinds of thoughts, I encourage you to seek help.
Thank you all once again, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!
Chapter 6: A Nightmare That Never Ends
Trapped.
That's how Dan felt at that moment. His body felt paralyzed, like a beetle imprisoned in fossilized amber, only able to helplessly watch as the world moved around him.
Where am I?! He wondered, his eyes frantically trying to piece together recognizable shapes, desperately hoping that he could find something recognizable. Distant rain and thunder filled the deafening silence within the room like the static white noise of an old television. Pale, sickly light flooded in from a nearby window, shrouding everything within the room in a washed out gray.
Something moved in his vision, alerting him that he was not alone in the room. A soft, mewling whimper, like that of a kitten echoed over the storm outside. Like a ten ton bag of bricks being thrown at his chest, Dan felt his heart ache as he was able to look down at a figure huddled in a chair on the middle of the room.
Who is she? Dan wondered. The girl on the chair was huddled and quivering, small hands clutching at the sides of her head, gathering clumps of peach-colored hair as she sobbed to herself, muttering his name. A red hairbow dangled loosely from the edge of her hair, precariously close to tumbling off of her hair entirely.
Suddenly, a voice whispered in his mind, telling him that this was Sayori. Sayori? He wondered, his panic and confusion rising the longer he stared at her, cold realization dawning on him.
I have to be dreaming, he thought to himself, Sayori's not-
Panic once more rose in the pits of his stomach as he caught sight of another shape, this one not human. A rope dangled from the ceiling, its end looped. As Sayori stood, her body shaking as she gripped the rope, Dan wanted nothing more than to scream, to tell her that it wasn't too late, that it was never too late. That she was making a far worse mistake than she realized.
But his words were lost, trapped inside the prison of his own mind. His numb muscles burned, urging him to run across the room and knock the rope from her hands, hugging her tightly as he carried her away to somewhere as far away from this nightmare as possible. And yet, he felt as if an invisible force pinned him back. He felt as if he were watching a movie, unseen and unheard, but only able to scream uselessly at the screen as if he thought that it could change anything.
Sayori, he cried, Sayori, don't do this!
He couldn't bear this. This was a nightmare, he told himself, this wasn't really happening.
Wake up, Dan! He screamed at himself, his breaths ragged and choked as strangled sounds All he had to do was open his eyes, and he'd be back in his own house, in his own bed, and all of this would be nothing more than a terrible dream that he'd forget about as it quickly faded from his memory.
Her hands lifted the rope. There was no turning back.
"Sayori, It doesn't have to be this way."
The girl froze, her empty blue eyes slowly turning toward the source of the voice. But, it was not Dan's voice that had spoken her name, he realized, but someone else. A third figure, roughly the same height as Dan, but slightly more stocky in build, now stood in the room.
Arin? Dan wondered, his confusion growing as he recognized the mysterious figure as being his best friend. And yet, something about the appearance of the other man that seemed almost frighteningly angelic. A faint aura seemed to radiate from Arin's form, casting the room in an ethereal glow. Arin hair, no longer tied back, wavered gently, stirred by a gentle breeze that seemed to pulse in time to the glowing aura.
Arin's glasses, Dan noted, were still there, however. And yet, even something as simple as that seemed to give off a completely different atmosphere. Flashes of fire and light glared briefly from the transparent lenses, as if they showed their owner the hidden aspects of the world around them that neither Dan nor Sayori was capable of seeing.
What was Arin doing here? Dan wondered, watching as the other man almost seemed to drift across the room, his movements almost unearthly in their gracefulness, like a ghost drifting in pale moonlight. The other man's eyes, seeming brighter in the pale light, didn't seem to notice him as they glared across the room, seeming to stare at something invisible just beyond Sayori.
The peach-haired girl's eyes widened with fear, her whole body trembling like a terrified rabbit as she scrambled backwards, nearly falling out of the chair she sat in. It was only a small relief, Dan noted, that she at least seemed to release her hold of the noose, if only for a moment.
"S-Stay away from me!" Sayori cried, her words colder than ice and sharper than a razor, "I know why you're here. Why you're really here. Why you really joined the Literature Club."
Had Dan been capable of movement, he was sure that his eyes would have widened. Nothing of what she said made sense to him, and yet paradoxically made perfect sense to him as well. What did she mean 'Why he had really joined the Literature Club'? He more, the uneasy sense of dread building in his chest burst forth like a leaking dam, spilling forth unbridled terror into his paralyzed body.
This is a nightmare, he reminded himself, trying to mentally trick himself into calming down, Of course none of this would make sense. None of this is real. Just keep quiet and ride this out until you wake up, Dan.
The other man, too, looked alarmed. His muscled tensed, defensively balling his hands into fists as if he expected Sayori to suddenly rush across the room and rip him open like a hungry piranha. Faster than Dan could blink, Sayori was on her feet, no longer sitting in the chair, but rather standing in front of Arin. It was like she'd teleported, Dan thought, his brain scrambling to try to piece together movements that felt too quick for his brain to comprehend.
A creepy, hollow smile crept across Sayori's delicate face as she tilted her head. Her eyes, clouded and empty, glimmered with a haunting flash of green in the pale moonlight, tears still flowing freely down her cheeks.
She was like a puppet, her movements almost unnatural as her chilling, hollow laugh filled the room. It felt as if the room itself became colder at the sound of her icy giggle, so alien and hauntingly unlike her own.
"Ahahahaha," she laughed, swaying slightly, "Monika told me. About you, about her, about Danny. She told me everything."
Arin paled, his eyes widening dangerously as he staggered backwards, his confidence shaken ever so slightly. Sayori's laugh grew louder, though the tears in her glassy eyes ran stronger, twisting her expression into a nightmarish portrait of conflict.
Again, her body flickered like static on a television screen. Dan felt his skin crawl as another anguished laugh rang through the stillness in the air. Her voice, for a moment became metallic and distorted, sounding like it had been played through an old, broken recorder that one would find in a talking doll who's batteries were starting to drain of energy.
"She's right, y'know," Sayori asked, more to herself "I'm selfish. If I was dead, then I wouldn't be in the way, and Danny could be happy with the others."
Sadness softened Arin's countenance as he rested his hand on Sayori's shoulder, kneeling slightly to bring himself eye level with her. Once more, her body shuddered, changing demeanor as she stared blanky ahead, unaware of his presence.
"None of this is real," Sayori whispered, "My memories, my feelings? Are they mine, or is this just what the universe tells me I am? No matter what I do, I fall in love with him. No matter what I do, I hurt everyone."
"Sayori," Arin replied, his voice breaking as he wrapped his other arm around her in a tight embrace, "Listen to me-things have gotten really messed up. But, it doesn't have to be this way. You promised Dan you'd be at the festival tomorrow…."
Sayori's hollow eyes looked past him, once more lost within the gray void that shrouded her eyes like a heavy fog. Again, her body moved listlessly, as if the Sayori that everyone knew had died long ago, and a restless spirit had taken over the shell of what remained.
"It hurts so much!" Sayori cried, " Nothing makes sense anymore! You, Monika, Danny-why do you want to torture me like this?! I just-I just want the rain clouds to go away!"
Another flicker, another hard flash of steel glinted in her eyes. Her body tensed, animalistic and vicious as she pushed the larger man away from her. Once more a shriek, somewhere between a laugh and as strangled scream, pierced through the stagnant air, sending daggers shooting up Dan's spine. Desperately, she clutched her head, grabbing at short locks of peach colored hair.
"Why won't you let me die, Arin?!" Sayori growled, her voice distorting amid static, "So many times, so many times, I've tried to make it stop. But it starts over again, even if I forget. Does Danny mean so much to you that you'd make us suffer over and over again like this?"
The fire in the other man's eyes flashed dangerously, seeming momentarily to shake the pink-haired girl from her anguished daze. Yet, Arin's gaze did not rest on her, but rather staring down at the floor, his fist clenched tightly at his sides.
"You want to know why?" he replied, his voice a low, bear-like growl, "Why I keep doing this? Why I keep going back, even if it means I'm back at square one? Even if it means every time I have to lose Dan again and again?"
Now, Arin looked up, staring through Sayori. His knuckles turned white as he clenched is fists even more tightly, wincing just slightly as his nails lighlty dug into the flesh of his palm. For a brief moment, Dan did a double take, noticing that the other man's hand bared no trace of the wound that Yuri had inflicted upon him only hours ago.
There was no way, Dan thought to himself, that Arin's hand could have healed up as quickly as it had. But then again, he reminded himself, this was just a dream. There were naturally going to be some things that his brain would forget to draw in.
"Because this world isn't as limited as you believe it is," he continued, "Yeah, there's endings-but that doesn't mean that that's where your story ends. You, Yuri, Natsuki, even Monika- you're more than what this world tells you you are. You influence this world, not the other way around. There's so many secrets in this world that none of you know about. Hell, even I don't even know all of it, either."
Arin sighed before continuing. A faint, uncertain glimmer twinkled behind the grey of Sayori's eyes as she listened to him. Although her trembling stilled, a look of confusion flickered across her face as her knees buckled underneath her, sending her collapsing to the floor. Again, Arin knealt down, gently resting his hands on Sayori's shoulders.
"Sayori," he continued, "You're a lot stronger and more important than you realize. I know this, Dan knows this, and somewhere deep inside her, Monika knows this, too."
The pink haired girl sighed a shaking sigh as her hands dug into the carpet below her, as if they were the only thing keeping her from collapsing on the floor. A few errant tears that had managed to hide in the corners of her eyes rolled down her cheeks, splashing harmlessly on the floor.
"I-I don't…." she hiccuped through her choked sobs.
"You gotta look inside yourself," Arin continued, "You gotta ask yourself what you're willing to put up with. You gotta ask yourself, 'Is this the story I want for myself? Is this really how and when I want it to end?'"
Sayori swallowed a shuddering breath as she closed her eyes. Moments passed slowly in tense silence as the two men watched their friend's internal conflict play out in her subtle movements. Slowly, she opened her eyes again. The glimmer in her eyes, although still uncertain, glowed brighter amongst the watery blue.
"I believe in you Sayori," Arin said, "And I'm sure that Dan believes in you, too. You can do this."
Another shudder passed through the girl's body as she buried herself deeper into Arin's broad chest. Tears now began to sting the corners of Arin's own eyes as he wrapped his arms around her quivering frame, as if shielding her from the room around them.
A warm feeling burned in Dan's chest as he felt himself able to relax a little. He could almost hear the melancholic piano melody underscoring the scene, like the sappy music that always played during the climax of one of those 'very special' episodes of a cheesy sitcom.
Wait, he thought as he did a double-take, he could hear piano music playing in the distance. But, where was it coming from? He wondered.
Suddenly, a cold wind swept through the room, extinguishing the warmth between Arin and Sayori. The peach haired girl fell deathly still as Arin's muscles tensed, his brown eyes narrowing dangerously as he looked around the room. Protectively, his grip on Sayori became tighter, pulling her as close to him as he could.
Could they hear the music, too? Dan wondered. Was there something about that tune that meant more to them than what he realized? A cold, terrifying laugh seemed to echo underneath that sweet tune, chilling the three of them to the core. Perhaps it was a trick of the lights, or just another hallucination in his dream, but Dan could almost swear that he saw a pair of glowing green eyes staring at them from within endless depths of the shadowy room.
A strangled cry escaped Sayori's lips as she clutched her head, breaking Arin's grip as she doubled over in pain.
"Sayori?!"
"Arin…" Sayori cried, "S-she's in my head! I can't-ARRGH!"
Waves of panic and confusion burst forth, drowning Dan in a sea of swirling emotions as Sayori screamed again, her body ghostly and flickering once more as she suddenly stood up, throwing Arin across the room as if he were a rag doll, spiraling into the wall. Again, she clutched her head, her hairbow tumbling onto the floor as she screamed again.
Around her, the room itself seemed to flicker and distort around them. It was as if the they were caught between two realities-the one that they knew, and a nightmarish, twisted hellscape that only vaguely resembled reality. Static crackled loudly in his ears, drowning out Dan's panicked screams as he struggled against himself, forcing himself to make even the slightest movement.
But, unfortunately, he was nothing more than an observer of this nightmare. Slowly, he watched as a dazed Arin pushed himself back up to his knees. Stunned, his fingertips touched the trickle of blood streaming from his forehead. The light in Arin's glasses flashed, as the aura around him pulsed wildly. For a brief moment, Dan felt as if the world had begun to spin in reverse, pulling them backwards, away from this nightmare. A welcoming darkness slowly crept over his senses, lulling him into a dreamless void.
But, this was far too short lived, as it felt like a giant, icy, invisible hand wrapped around his chest, forcefully dragging him forward as he opened his eyes again.
Arin cursed under his breath. And for the first time that he could ever recall, Dan saw absolute terror flooding ever inch of the other man's being. The aura faded, leaving the other man shrouded in shadow as he stared at Dan with a horrified helplessness.
"Oh dear," a distorted, feminine voice laughed from seemingly nowhere "It seems like I broke something, didn't I?Looks like you won't be able to just start over this time. Oh well, you should really just learn not to meddle in things that are none of your business, Arin."
Another manic, piercing scream shot through the room, distorted in the metallic tinge of static. The room shifted more erratically, filling Dan's vision with nightmarish distortions that flashed far too fast to be processed as anything more than blurs and flashes of red, blue and green.
The cacophony of static and sound grew louder, almost deafening, the flashes becoming faster and more erratic. He wanted to scream again, but his voice was instantly lost among the distortions. And yet, there was one thing that Dan could hear over the roar of white noise.
Voices, all around him, echoing within him, all crying out in the same desparate manic plea, over and over again.
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GETOUTOFMYHEAD!"
Suddenly, as if forcefully thrown from the nightmare, Dan jolted awake. The gentle patter of rain beat calmly against his window as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling in frozen terror.
His heart beat loudly in his chest, pounding like a drum in his ears, as he tried to steady his ragged, gasping breaths. A stream of cold tears ran unchecked down his cheeks, dampening the pillow underneath him. Alarmed, he looked at the room around him, momentarily not recognizing where he was.
Slowly, his senses returned as the logical side of his brain took over, allowing him to relax a little. It'd just been a nightmare, he sighed to himself as he slowly sat up, combing his hand through his tangled hair, the memories of his nightmare slowly fading into a dull, uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Of course it would have been a nightmare, he thought, piecing together his current situation like a detective at a crime scene. For one, he noted, the thoughts of Sayori's love confession had still weighed heavily on his mind just moments before he fell asleep. So, it only made sense that he'd have a weird dream about her.
Plus, there were other, external factors that had helped contribute to the strangeness of his nightmare. He noted that he'd appeared to have drifted off to sleep while laying on his back. Normally, he reminded himself, he usually slept on his side, because past experiences of sleeping on his back had always resulted in night terrors and sleep paralysis.
Well, at least that explained why he was unable to move in his dream, he thought.
And then, he thought as he tasted the faint flavor of tomato sauce and olives in his mouth, there was the obvious fact that he had unwisely decided to eat pizza so soon before going to sleep. It was like every decision he had made prior to falling alseep was just deliberately trying to invite strange, horrifying night terrors.
Groggily, he looked at the alarm clock beside his bed. It was too late for him to consider going back to sleep and trying for a much happier dream. Slowly, he climbed out of the cacoon of comfort that was his bed, and got ready for the day, his thoughts slowly starting to move on to other topics.
The school festival was today, he reminded himself as he balanced the box of cupcakes and the umbrella in his arms. He'd promised Sayori that he'd spend time with her during the festival. Honestly, despite the residual unease that still lingered from his nightmare, he was kind of looking forward to it.
It'd be nice just to have a day where they could enjoy themselves, and possibly just talk and try to rebuild their friendship. Granted, he reasoned, it wouldn't be quite like the old days. But, maybe that wasn't what he wanted. Or necessarily what either of them really needed.
Maybe they needed to redefine their friendship, adapting it to their ever changing personalities, and avoiding the pitfalls that had caused them to drift apart in the first place.
For a brief moment, Dan hesitated as he cast a glance over at Sayori's house. Again, a knot of panic twisted in the pit of his stomach, filling his mouth with the taste of bile as he considered entering the house to wake up Sayori. Glimpses of his nightmare flashed through his mind, causing him to shudder, nearly dropping the umbrella and the box of cupcakes.
It was just a nightmare, Dan told himself, Sayori was fine. Besides, he thought as he glanced down at his watch, he was going to school early to help set up for the festival. He figured that there was no point in waking her up so early. She'd probably show up when it was closer to time for the festival to begin, anyways.
Still, he thought as he shifted the box in his arms and pulled out his phone, he should at least text her to let her know that he'd meet her in the clubroom, rather than walking to school together.
As the text sent, he couldn't help but feel the nervous anxiety still fluttered in the pit of his stomach. Something was seriously wrong, it warned him, he needed to check on Sayori. But then, he thought, it might already be too late. Once more flashes of his nightmares danced across his vision.
Again, he shook his head, forcing the images out of his mind, as he walked to the school, almost as if compelled by another force. Sayori was fine, he reassured himself yet again. Besides, Monika was expecting him to help her set up for the festival. And, he couldn't exactly disappoint the President of the Literature Club, now could he?
It was almost haunting, Dan thought as he crossed through the empty hallways of the school, just how quiet and empty the school felt without the numerous crowds of students and teachers roaming the hallways, filling the building with their ambient chatter.
Every small footstep sounded like heavy thunder as it echoed through the stagnant air, sending shivers up the curly haired man's spine, doing little to ease his jangled nerves. Part of him almost considered walking past the clubroom altogether and heading up to the roof.
Maybe Arin would be up there, he figured. The other man had known that something was wrong with Sayori, perhaps he would be able to help him make sense of his nightmare. Bu then again, a little voice in the back of his mind reminded him, it was raining outside, there was pretty good chance that Arin wasn't going to hide out on the roof.
Besides, he added, it was still a little too early for most students to actually be at school, so it wasn't likely that Arin was even going to be hiding out in the maintenance closet either. If anyone from the club was going to be here this early, it'd be either Monika or Yuri-the former to start setting up the decorations for the festival, and the latter probably wanting to sneak in some alone time to read a few pages in her book before the festival started.
Plus, he thought as he discarded his umbrella in his locker, shuffling the boxes in his arms again, he logically should drop off the cupcakes in the clubroom before doing anything else, so that he wouldn't be stuck carrying them around all day and risk accidentally dropping them somewhere.
Despite the nagging anxiety squeezing tightly against his chest, he entered the clubroom. He felt as if he'd walked straight into morgue as he crossed the room, setting the boxes of cupcakes onto a long table against the back wall. Large sheets of black construction paper, not let brought to life by Arin and Yuri's decorations, dimmed the already murky grey light outside of the building, casting a strange, muted shade upon the electric lights of the classroom.
A deafening silence, so alien and ominous, filled the space of the tiny spare classroom as his eyes fell on the rows and rows of empty desks. It was almost kind of scary, he thought, being alone in the club room for once. He was far too used to at least seeing Yuri sitting in the corner of the room, quietly absorbed in whatever twisted fantasy world lay between the pages of her favorite novels.
A faint shuffling from the other side of the room broke the silence, sending electric waves of panic crawling up his skin. Monika smiled cheerfully, looking up at him as she finished setting little booklets upon each desk. He figured that those must have been the pamphlets that she and Sayori had worked on during the weekend.
"Ah, Danny!" Monika greeted him in a tone that seemed almost suspiciously syrupy, "You're the first one here! I'm surprised that you didn't bring Sayori with you."
Again, Dan rubbed the back of his neck as a dull pang of worry and guilt pricked at his gut. Part of him wanted to tell Monika about Sayori's depression, as well as her confession that had happened over the weekend. A lot of happened during the past few days for her that he felt that giving her a little time to take things at her own pace, even if it meant they didn't walk to school together, was for the best.
But then again, part of him felt like Sayori had probably already told her.
"Yeah," he said, shrugging, "I kind of figured I didn't want to wake her up too early, y'know? "
A brief flicker of annoyance and disgust seemed to pass across Monika's elegant face, but it was far to fast for Dan to properly register, before one of her usual placid smiles painted her lips.
"Ahahahaha," she giggled, "Perhaps you should take a little bit of responsibility for her, Danny. I mean, especially after your exchange with her yesterday. You kind of left her hanging this morning, you know?"
Dan paused, alarm and confusion pulsing through his veins with each heartbeat. There was something in the way that the brown haired girl had told him he'd left Sayori hanging that sounded like it was more than just a common phrase. She spoke as if it were some sort of inside reference that she figured he understood, but only she truly got.
Without warning, his mind flashed back to his vivid nightmare. Sayori had had a rope in that dream. Maybe there was nothing truly to it, he thought as he pushed the thoughts out of his mind with a deep breath. Perhaps it was just the memories of his weird dream coloring his perception of otherwise completely innocent phrases.
"Exchange?" Dan asked, "Wait, you know about that?"
"Of course I do," Monika giggled, seemingly unfazed by Dan's alarm, "I'm the Club President, after all."
Her explanation only heightened the curly-haired man's confusion. What did her being the President of the Literature Club have anything to do with the conversation between him and Sayori? That didn't seem like something that Sayori would have treated as Literature Club business.
And, besides, even if it was-had Sayori really told her about it that quickly? That the two did have feelings for each other, and that they could easily become a couple? He knew that he didn't plan on bringing it up with anyone at the moment, partly out of respect for Sayori's privacy and partly just preferring to see where things would go before making any sort of official statement on it.
"But-" Dan stammared, "Look, you don't know the full story, yet. So-"
Again, Monika laughed, though her voice seemed sharp and cold, as if they were daggers being pressed into Dan's spine.
"Don't worry," she told him, "I probably know a lot more than you think I do."
Dan quirked a confused eyebrow. Her green eyes were laser focused on him as she talked, sending a freezing, creeping terror up his spine. Again, her words seemed to hold a deeper meaning behind them than what was on the surface. Was it possible, he wondered, that, like Arin, Monika also possessed some sort of psychic intuition?
That was just ridiculous, he thought. First off, although he somewhat believed Arin's claim the previous day, part of him felt like probably outright calling him 'psychic' had been inaccurate. After all, even Arin had said that the whole thing was a lot more complicated than that.
Perhaps, it was the same way with Monika. Or, he reasoned, perhaps she just had a very good sense of intuition that made it seem like she knew a lot more about situations that he gave her credit for.
The Club President, however, seemed unbothered by Dan's confusion, and continued to smile calmly as she changed the subject, handing him one of the pamphlets before he could say anything else.
"Anyways," she asked, "You want to check out the pamphlets? They came out really nice! Sayori and I spent a lot of time making them extra special."
Sighing, Dan reluctantly agreed. There was no point in letting this get to him like this, he reasoned. It clearly had to be his own wild imagination starting to run away from him.
"Yeah," he agreed as he took the pamphlet, "Sure."
Admittedly, now that he was able to look at them, he could definitely see why it had taken both Sayori and Monika a good portion of the weekend to design these. Aside from the obvious fact that there were so many of them to construct, it was obvious that a lot of careful planning and detail had gone into their design to make it stand out. Part of him hoped that the students who looked at these pamphlets wouldn't just carelessly throw them away after the performance was over.
"These are really good," Dan said, flipping through the pages, "This should definitely help people get a little more interested in the Literature Club."
Monika made a noise in agreement, as Dan kept flipping through the pages. Each poem, he noted was laid out professionally amongst differently themed backgrounds that invoked the mood and subject of the poem. Images relating the the mood and themes of each poem surrounded the poems, giving them extra meaning.
Even his own poem seemed almost mystical, as the words seemingly floated amongst the dark, moonlit forest backdrop, as the silhouette of a lone wolf howled at the moon.
As his hands flipped to Sayori's poem, he felt his blood freeze within his veins. Suddenly, his hands felt heavy, the paper booklet almost slipping from his fingers. Something was seriously wrong about this-this wasn't the poem that Sayori had practiced at all.
The page itself was blank, it's edges appearing ripped and wrinkled, as it written on a spare piece of paper that had been crumpled and unfolded multiple times. Thick black ink smudged the pages. Unlike her other poems, this one lacked a proper title-and in fact seemed more like the repeated mantra of a madman than an actual poem.
His eyes focused on the words of the page. Again and again, his mind flashed back to the end of his nightmare. The chorus of voices, all crying "get out of my head" over and over again. Only here, the words were read in Sayori's voice; shaking and crying as she pleaded for someone to save her.
The last sentences, more lucid in the coherence, but still terrifyingly ominous, echoed in his mind:
A poem is never finished. It just stops moving.
He shouldn't be here, he thought, his panic and fear filling his veins with adrenaline. Hurriedly, he dropped the poem, giving Monika an wide-eyed, alarmed look.
For a moment Monika's smile faded, slipping into a curious glance, silently asking if he was alright. Without a word, he turned, running as his feet guided him back to Sayori's house.
"Wait!" Monika called after him, halting him in his tracks, "Where are you going?"
"I-I gotta go get Sayori," he called out after her, starting to run again.
Although he didn't look behind him to look at her, he could hear Monika's defeated sigh as she shrugged, leaning against the doorway as she watched him disappear.
"Well," she called after him, "Don't take too long, okay? Don't strain yourself."
Once more, Dan felt the uneasy suspicion that Monika's words meant far more than their surface meaning. But, he ignored it as he ran out of the school yard, and down the sleepy, suburban street. Several passing students eyed him curiously, unsure of what to make of the gangly, six-foot-three giraffe of a human bounding in the opposite direction as them.
He ignored them, too. His thoughts buzzing on repeat, like static white noise in his ears. Something was horribly wrong, he thought to himself. Sayori's poem-it echoed his nightmare. Had it really been just a dream? He wondered. Or had it been a vision of something terrible that was going to happen, if it hadn't already?
It didn't matter, he told himself. Even if it was just a dream, Sayori was still in trouble and still needed him. Her poem alone had been enough to tell him that. He prayed that he wasn't too late, that whatever had happened, he would be able to find her in time and that everything would be okay.
He didn't even care if he missed the festival, as long as he made sure that Sayori was alright.
It was only when Dan found himself standing in front of Sayori's bedroom door, did he allow himself to stop, overcome with a sudden fear, extinguishing the fire of anxiety that had guided his feet to her door. For a moment, he allowed the atmosphere around him to seep into his being, like tea leaves in water.
Like that Saturday that Sayori had revealed her depression to him, her house seemed dark and empty, as if Sayori didn't exist, and her house had been abandoned for ages. Maybe this was one of the rare days that Sayori had managed to wake up early, and he'd simply unknowingly passed her by on his way back over there?
But, surely, he thought, Sayori's parents should have still been there? Then again, a voice in the back of his mind whispered, it wasn't like he'd ever seen Sayori's parents? Or really, he thought, had he really even seen his own parents? Or anyone actually outside of the Literature Club for that matter?
What was he saying? Of course other people existed outside of the Literature Club. He vaguely remembered seeing and talking to other students, even just moments ago? And, of course, he vaguely remembered his family. He had a mom, he had a dad, and a grandmother. He had a sister, right?
Why couldn't he remember?! Why were all his memories recalled in a hazy, distant mist and static, obscuring everything until it was nothing more than blurry shapes and distorted, vague sounds.
That's not important right now, he thought, growling to himself as he took out his phone and called Sayori's number. He needed to focus on Sayori, he thought. Now was not the time to be questioning small details that he was probably only overlooking due to stress and worry.
He considered texting her, but he figured that it'd be more effective to call her, in case she accidentally didn't hear her text message notification alarm go off. Silently, Dan prayed to himself that she at least be able to hear her phone ringing.
His heart sank as he heard the muffled echo of her phone's chirping, musical ringtone playing from the other side of the door.
"Damn it," he muttered to himself, "She must have left her phone at home."
Either that, he thought, or she was still there, and was either unable to hear her phone, or deliberately ignoring it. Frustrated, Dan pocketed his phone, instead deciding to knock on her door.
"Sayori!" he called, "Sayori, it's Dan! If you're in there, please answer! We need to talk!"
But, only terrifying silence returned his replies. Was she really here? He wondered again. Should he maybe go back to school and check to see if she might have shown up while he was gone?
No, he thought, something told him that Sayori was probably not at the school, and he needed to make sure that she wasn't here either, before he went back and checked elsewhere.
She was a pretty heavy sleeper, he reminded himself, even on the days where it didn't seem like her depression had been quite as severe, she'd been like that.
Holding his breath, he gripped the doorknob, his hands feeling like lead as they hesitated to turn the rounded knob. This was wrong, he thought. Barging into her room like this? Wasn't that a breach of her privacy?
What if she was still sleeping? He wondered. It'd be rude of him to invade her space like that to wake her up?
Besides, another part of him reasoned, wasn't he overreacting a little? Sure, her poem was a bit upsetting-but what if she had sent that poem to Monika by mistake or earlier during the weekend, and the two had talked things through, but Sayori had simply forgotten to ask Monika to replace the poem? What if this was just Sayori experimenting with a new style? Maybe he was letting this nightmare affect him a little too much, it reasoned.
Damn it, he thought, he didn't have time for these kinds of doubts. Not when Sayori could have been in danger. Even if the poem had been old, or Sayori had experimented with a different style, the fact that it was written was enough to worry him. Her depression had been pretty bad lately, he thought, and she was likely in a pretty volatile mental state at that moment. And, he'd promised to be there for her when she needed him.
And, this? This definitely seemed like one of those moments.
"Sayori," he warned, "I'm coming in."
Steeling his nerves, he twisted the handle, gently pushing the door open. The sight he was met with, made him wished that he hadn't. All of the blood fled from his body as he stared in horror at the figure in the center of the room. His lungs struggled to catch their breath, as he felt his knees collapse underneath him, suddenly weak and unable to support him, leaving him to sink into a stunned pile on the floor.
His nightmare was real.
A rope twisted around Sayori's neck, dangling her hollow, grey form from the ceiling like some sort of horrifying and twisted marionette puppet. The blue that once sparkled like the boundless ocean in sunlight, stared back at him with glassy grey, no longer capable of seeing the endless possibilites and beauty of the world around her. Her hairbow lay on the floor beneath her, useless and forgotten.
Dan wanted to scream, to vomit, to cry, but found himself unable to do anything but stare at the form of his former friend in disbelieving shock.
Sayori was dead.
No, he cried to himself, this was wrong. Sayori wouldn't just kill herself like this. Even at her worst, he reasoned, there was still some bit of her that knew that things would get better. There was always some part of her that refused to give up hope.
Through his tears, he could have sworn that he saw the room flicker, distorting and shifting like in his nightmare. Screaming, he closed his eyes, trying to push out the image of Sayori's corpse from his mind. But, no matter what he did, the image would not go away, burned forever in his mind.
This wasn't real. None of this is real.
This had to be another nightmare.
Maybe he hadn't woken up from the first nightmare like he'd thought he had. Surely, any moment now, he'd wake up for real, and none of this would ever happen. But, part of him knew that this wasn't a dream; that what his eyes had seen was really happening.
All of this was real.
Damn it, he cursed to himself, this was his fault, wasn't it? He'd promised he'd be there for Sayori, no matter what. Why had he not been able to see this before this happened? Why had he not gotten there sooner, or kept a better eye on her-knowing that she was in such a fragile mental state?
Had it been the way that he confessed to her? Had it been that, by putting the decision of starting a relationship as her decision put too much pressure on her? Had he accidentally broken her heart, his words being misinterpreted as a rejection?
In the back of his mind, he remembered what Arin had told him that Sunday. He told him that no matter what he said, there might have been no way not hurt her when responding to her confession.
Was that true? Was there really nothing he could have done?
His mind raced, trying to think back on their past together, desperately trying to find that one moment that might have revealed that hidden, vital clue within those memories that, had he realized it sooner, could have possibly saved her from this terrible fate.
Growling in frustration, another stream of hot, angry tears flowed freely from his cheeks. As normal, his memories felt frustratingly dreamlike and distorted. Each time, her face was blurred out, her words muffled and echoing, as if speaking through a brick wall, before forever vanishing into the aether. His memories felt unreal-as if he and Sayori had never known each other, and that their memories of each other belonged to someone else.
This wasn't the Sayori that he knew.
The Sayori he knew would have never done this, would she?
Had he even really truly known her at all, then?
He remembered the other man's whispered promise to save her. Arin had failed then, Dan thought coldly. This wasn't like this was some sort of game where they could just start over and try again until he figured out the right words to say.
Sayori was gone. There was nothing that could change that.
Screw the Literature Club, he thought, Screw the festival! Sayori is dead! And it's my fucking fault. I should have been here-I should have saved her! I should have been there for her, walked her to school everyday, and not let us drift away from each other like we were.
He felt as if he, too, were dying at that very moment. A chilling coldness crept through his body, numbing the nauseous ache within his soul. The buzzing static slowly faded from his mind, as comfortable silence surrounded him. Sounds, garbled and distorted among a distant wailing piano melody echoed over static, saying things that Dan couldn't understand.
His eyes no longer saw the tiny bedroom or the horrid nightmare that was Sayori's lifeless form. Only darkness enveloped him in its welcoming embrace as he slipped deeper and deeper into the depthless void. He no longer could scream or cry, the emptines of the void having stolen his voice, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts.
But would vanish soon, he knew.
"Dan?!"He heard Arin's voice echo distantly from the static, his tone evident with concern.
Arin?! The other mancalled out, though his mouth was no longer able to speak, Arin, please help me! I don't know what's going on any more. Arin, please! I'm so scared! Help me….
A reassuring warmth and pressure enveloped his body. Desperately, he clung to that warmth like a lifeline, anchoring him to his sanity, even as reality crumbled around him. Although his eyes were blind, he knew that Arin was holding him. What was Arin even doing there, he wondered, vaguely. Didn't he know that it wasn't safe to be here?
"Just hang in there, Dan" the other man's voice assured him, "Everything's gonna be okay."
As fast as it happened, the curly haired man felt himself being ripped from the other man's protective embrace. He felt as if a hook, tied to a fishing line, had been driven into his skull, pulling him backwards.
Once more vague flashes of color and sound pounded against his skull in rapid succession. His memories of the past few days flashed before his eyes, playing out in reverse, as if he were watching them play out on an rewinding video. Everything he'd said and done meant nothing, as it faded from his mind as if it'd never even happened.
Uselessly, Dan tried to reach out, to latch on to even the slightest sliver of a memory, only to find it falling through his hands like sand. Even has he struggled, it felt as if the world itself had reached inside his head, rewriting his existence to better adapt it to this new reality.
Sayori? Who was Sayori? Sayori didn't exist.
Arin, Natsuki, Yuri? Never heard of them.
Monika? He thought that the name sounded familiar. Wasn't she in his class last year?
Slowly, unconsciousness enveloped him once more as he drifted away again. He heard a voice, once more calling out to him in a desperation plea. But, that had to have been his imagination, he thought, he didn't seem to recognize that voice.
And yet, just before he completely succumbed to a dreamless sleep, he could hear another voice. This one cold, graceful and feminine, laughing with a tone that sounded both sugary sweet and venomously cruel all the same time.
"Ah," She giggled, "There we go! Let's try this again, shall we?"
(A/N: Sorry that this chapter was a lot shorter than my previous chapters. I kind of wanted to start Act 2 as its own thing, for the sake of keeping the chapters divided out fairly neatly, with each chapter covering at least one day in the club. Longer chapters are likely to happen again by the next couple of chapters. Again, I know that this fic is going to get pretty dark, but again, I sincerely intend to end this on a much happier tone by the end of the story. Anyways, thank you once more for reading and leaving feedback!)