"Celine? Damien? Stop hiding from me, now, you've had your fun. You can come on out now!" William shouted through the empty mansion, arms opened outwards in submission. He stumbled down the hall, the sound of his footsteps echoing sharply off the walls.
He already peaked through the large rooms on the lower floor multiple times, wandering in confused circles, calling their names. He already looked through all of the upstairs rooms, threw open bedroom doors, looked underneath beds, and rummaged through the large walk-in closets. He already checked everywhere.
Except for one room.
Something didn't want William inside. He felt an uncomfortable churning feeling of dread in his stomach every time he passed it. Its dark walnut door seemed foreboding, like a warning. The room seemed to whisper things -dark things- into his head. He stood in front of it a while, then took a deep breath, mentally shaking that feeling off as he walked closer to the door.
William shakily fumbled with the doorknob. They've got to be here somewhere. They wouldn't just leave me… right? He shoved it open, a loud bang sounded as the back of the door slammed into the wall.
"Celine? Damien?"
There was no reply. The bedroom was empty and spacious, the walls with a faded blue wallpaper. There were clothing and pillows strewn onto the floor, the sheets on the large bed crumbled and in disarray. The curtains were drawn shut, darkening the room and accentuating the shadows that filled it. There was a thin film of dust coating the surfaces of the room as if it hasn't been touched in years. It smelled old and damp, the only place in the house that seemed to be in a state of decay.
It was empty.
"No…" William whispered. "Please…" he said louder, voice faltering. Hot tears flowed from his eyes now, rolling down his cheeks in streaks.
"Celine, Damien! Come on now, I played your little game and followed your rules. You kept your little joke up for far too long. But it's okay, I know, I deserved it. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please forgive me." William shouted, slowly spinning around in the center of the room as if talking to a group of people who surrounded him.
"I just want to see you again. Please, don't leave me alone again. Please…" he pleaded in a low voice. William fell to his knees, loudly sobbing, hands covering his face. His shoulders quaked as he tried to breathe evenly in gasping breaths. Tears dripped down his shaking hand and poured through his fingers.
"Please…"
William sat slumped against the wall, his legs and arms outstretched, looking blankly into space. His eyes were red and swollen, burning every time he blinked, his face sticky and gritty from dried tears. Had it been an hour? Two? It didn't matter. Time didn't seem to function the same way here. He was stuck in a never-ending loop of thoughts.
Maybe they are still hiding somewhere. Outside perhaps? Or somewhere else? Have I really checked everywhere? William tried to hold onto the hope that they were still somewhere. Maybe they are the ones looking for me. He smiled wistfully at the thought of Celine and Damien walking through the front door, smiling and congratulating him for seeing through their joke and playing their game.
They'll come back, you'll see, he reassured himself.
William laughed. It started out as a forced low chuckle to a loud hysterical howl. He hugged his sides, his euphoria enough to make his chest hurt. William's eyes squinted due to intensity, fat tears pouring down his face as he continued to laugh. He found it ironic, how he was looking for people that he was barely able to remember. He was blind. For all he knew, they could already be dead. For all he knew, he could have been the one to have killed them…
William struggled to fill the missing gaps in his memory. I know I would never hurt my only friends. I'm better than that. He tried to remember anything else about Celine, Damien, and the other people he felt he had forgotten. There was nothing.
But what if I hurt them and I just don't remember... What if they died because of me?
William smiled sadly, his chest hurting from laughing so much.
That must be it. I must have made myself forget because of the guilt of killing the two people I cared the most for in the whole world.
He vaguely recalled slowly pulling out a small golden pistol from his pocket, not consciously realizing his actions. He looked at it, seeing his reflection on its curved sides. He sensed that it was his, the weight of the weapon familiar in his hand, yet was unable to place exactly where and when he ever got it or how he even put it in his pocket. He decided not to dwell on it.
This is the only way to make sure I never hurt anyone ever again. He turned the safety off the pistol with a soft click.
"I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I should have known you'd leave me one day." he muttered to no one in particular, "I can't wait to see you again." He chuckled softly, looking down at the gun held firmly in one hand.
William's eyes held a grim determination, the eyes of a man that has already seen death so many times that it didn't matter anymore whether it was he who died. It was ironic how the murderer would also be murdering himself. Perhaps, William wondered, even killed looking down the barrel of the same gun. How beautifully fitting that would be. He felt an overwhelming feeling of peace and calmness, further instilling the idea that he was doing the right thing.
This is the only way.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.