The Evil Within: ''The End?'' Chapter Nine

It has only been a few hours, but to Sebastian it felt like months. He had no clue what time it was or how long he exactly he had been in the conscience of the other. He recalled only bits and pieces, the brief video he was watching before he lost conscious and saw a flash of a hooded man. It was like putting a puzzle together, and this puzzle was so intricate, so hard to complete, and even worse that he lacked several puzzle pieces he had yet to find. The only conclusion he could make was to escape this confinement he was forced in, the compulsory state was much to his dismay something he couldn't fight against. How did he end up in this mess? He didn't regret coming, but the regret he had was the fact he was helpless at most times, his colleagues scattered in the same mind, and in the same exact danger as himself. The man couldn't even validate if they were alive or not, that burden weighed heavy on him.

The dim lights of the room made the ambience more dreadful, the crimson red wallpaper and the vague rims of silver around the carpet's edges, the desk of venerable oakwood and the paintings that were so blurred the faces upon them looked like horrors themselves. No single focus could be directed towards any of these facts, merely trying to overcome this moment. The silence was the most unnerving, seeing as Sebastian only told himself that the smallest of sounds kept him sane, though sane is an understatement. His senses were dulling, strength fading and clear thinking was all but there. He was going to give up, succumb to this man and just let him ravage all of the detective, be over and done with it, but as he digged further into this, there was something telling him to fight; his daughter. The image of his daughter wailed through his mind and before his eyes, the little girl that he raised only to lose her, he won't let himself die, he would fight and cherish the memories of her. He had lost enough, he won't lose himself now. Sebastian groaned vaguely, teeth grit as he was pressed against the door, breathing shallowly, wounds gaping and stretching, inviting the most of deadliest infections to enter. His hands scraped against the door, seeking some form of balance to press himself away, though Ruvik was inclined to keep him in place, digits raking through the black strands, tugging and gripping as he yanked the male's head back, throat utmost exposed and vulnerable in this state. Sebastian released a low whimper through grit teeth, the yank causing him to pose defiance, moving his elbow downwards before sending it outright back to collide with Ruvik's abdomen, enabling enough space to slip away and withdraw from the hooded man; Ruvik was hit, though made no sound and merely smirked as per usual.

It was a chance he could not let slip, to have control over his own movement again, Sebastian was relieved, though his expression was incredulous, his elbow, despite the impact, had no affect on Ruvik. He felt like everything was against him, every single chance offered to freedom was answered with deceit, the nightmare he was trapped in, everything in this world, it was all a big game. But it was also time to play the game, this time, not being a pawn, but another player. He would be doomed if he lost and died. Honestly, he had no idea how he was going to win this game, considering everything he did had no succes, and seemed all but usefull. It's as if Ruvik planned it all; all single moves made by Sebastian were foreseen, what he did do, and what he did not do, it did not matter, all of it was in his plan. Ruvik's plan. And who would he be to fool himself? ''This is my world. You cannot keep me here''. These words, matter of factly, were going to keep repeating themself. A lump was stuck in his throat as he swallowed harshly.

Piercing white eyes were all but kind, a mere reflection of the former mercury blue. They were intense, and mesmerizing, but lest of all, they were the eyes of Ruvik. They were the validation that evil was no lie, and even more so that loss can even pass through certain death. One could actually feel sympathy develop towards this being. It was a long, silent moment that passed as Ruvik took his turn and gave his stare again, one that remained unfaltered perpetually, no single blink to keep his eyes moist, to avoid them from drying out. But this was no time to think of this, it was time to move! Sebastian snapped out of his thoughts, looking around the room as he inhaled sharply through his nose, feeling like all his options were bound to be traps. What the hell was he supposed to do? ''I'm not going to die in this shithole''.

Or was he? Desperation started to surface, feeling that something else was bothering him, except from the stare that was fixed on him, though he couldn't quite lay a finger on it. ''Tell me why you keep doing this, Ruvik. I have not wronged you''. Sebastian spoke, in exasparation, thinking that conversation may be the only thing that may delay his death. Ruvik stood there, across the room, near the door that now was visibily erased of the mass layer of gore, clear to open. The ashes of the white robe still was scattered across the floor, pinches of black and white, notably small on the crimson carpet. As the coppery eyes glazed across the carpet to eye the ashes, he visualized a pair of horribly burned feet, initially moving his gaze to Ruvik whom was approaching in silent steps, swiftly, even without the robe, he held that attractive walk and body, that grace and the amble movements. He was very, very enticing-..''NO''.The detective shook his head and his heart began to push against the insides of his chest, feeling his throat getting constricted as he tried to articulate words: ''Answer me, damnit!'' He spat out, moving back as he felt his legs go limp, it was useless. Skin that was scathed and damaged, bits burned and pieces of it turned grey due to dead nerves, the sight came closer and closer to observe, to cast his eyes upon. It felt uneasy and comfortable at the same time, simultanously, it was a mental and physical challenge. He backed against the desk as he breathed out, hands clenching together.

Was this the end for him?