Wren Lux’s hand gripping the axe handle trembled uncontrollably.
Soon, her entire body began to shake.
She looked at her hand, then followed her arm down to stare at the axe embedded in the other woman’s neck.
Mia lay on the ground.
The blood welling from her wound slowed, trailing down her collarbone and dripping onto the floor with faint pattering sounds.
“Ugh—” The bile rising in her stomach moved faster than her conscious thought.
Wren stumbled back two steps, bent over, and began to dry heave violently.
But nothing came up.
There was only the burning sensation of stomach acid scorching her esophagus and the uncontrollable shivering of her body.
The smell of blood.
Such a heavy stench of blood.
It was disgusting.
Her hands were covered in blood—both hers and Mia’s.
The sticky, warm sensation felt glued to her skin, impossible to shake off.
“Haa…” Wren rested both hands on her knees, gasping for air.
Her vision darkened in waves.
Even when she closed her eyes, the afterimage of the axe sinking into flesh remained burned into her retinas.
It took a long while for her to recover.
She had killed her.
But Mia would get back up.
*I shouldn’t have made it this difficult…* Tears pricked the corners of Wren’s eyes, making her look like she was about to cry.
But just as the tears threatened to fall, she raised the back of her blood-soaked hand and wiped her face hard, abruptly cutting off the emotion and smearing blood all over her cheeks.
“I just mentally prepared myself for this.
My daily memories from the past few days were stripped away, so why is the other set of memories still affecting me?” Mia was going to return this blow shortly.
*What the hell am I crying for?* *Keep pushing through the instance.* Wren sniffled, only to start coughing as the metallic stench of blood choked her.
She managed to suppress her coughs, slowly straightened her back, and yanked the axe out of Mia’s neck.
*Squelch—* The moment the axe came free, a spurt of blood splashed onto her pant leg.
It was warm.
Wren didn’t look down.
Though her legs felt like jelly, she leaned against the wall and made her way out.
At first, Wren felt like the entire world was spinning.
Cold sweat streamed down her forehead.
But she gritted her teeth until her jaw ached, forcefully suppressing the nausea churning in her stomach.
Once the initial discomfort faded, perhaps due to another surge of adrenaline, the world finally stopped swaying.
She let go of the wall and walked step by step into the hallway.
In the hallway, the phone rang.
Wren picked up the receiver and set it aside, ignoring it.
It was a call from Mia’s sister, Zoe.
She already knew what it was about—just a tip telling her she could escape through the attic.
She continued progressing through the game flow, returning to the hallway where she had first entered the house.
Using the bolt cutters, she snipped the chain locking the cabinet at the end of the hall and retrieved the fuse inside.
Next, she went to the VCR room and installed it.
She stepped out.
Just as she turned the corner, Mia darted out again, a bloody gash still visible on her neck, acting as if nothing had happened.
She was alive again.
“Ethan!
It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s me.” “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” She looked as though she had just reunited with her long-lost lover, her face full of pleasant surprise.
Wren felt completely dead inside.
*Just as I expected.* A second later, Mia’s expression flipped like a switch.
A ferocious look overtook her face as she shoved Wren to the floor.
Then, pulling a screwdriver out of nowhere, she pinned Wren’s left hand directly to the wall.
This time, Wren bit her lip hard.
She forced herself not to scream.
“But you shouldn’t have done that!
It fucking hurt!” Mia roared savagely.
After nailing Wren’s palm to the wall, she turned around and whipped out a revving, roaring chainsaw.
This was the third wave.
In reality, there was still a fourth.
Most players who had experienced this back in the day felt utterly broken by it.
The protagonist’s wife!
Mia!
She was like a lingering ghost!
It never ended!
Turning this into an instance scenario would probably be enough to break the players in this world, too.
Even though a piercing agony radiated from her left palm, even though Mia was inching closer with a chainsaw, even though she was dripping with cold sweat and feeling a bit afraid…
Wren still managed a relieved smile at the thought that others would soon get to enjoy this exact same treatment.
After her smile faded, Wren squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip hard, twisted her body, and used her right hand to violently yank out the screwdriver piercing her left palm.
The moment she broke free, Mia, who had been approaching slowly, suddenly accelerated.
She raised the chainsaw and swung it straight at Wren’s face.
Wren instinctively raised her left hand to block it.
The roar of the chainsaw exploded in her ears.
Before Wren could even react, her left hand was gone.
Skin, muscle, bone, nerves—everything was torn, shredded, and severed in a single instant.
Pain shot from the stump up to her shoulder like an electric current, then exploded down her spine, blasting her vision into pure white.
There was nothing in that whiteness.
Only sound.
The roar of the chainsaw.
And the dull thud of something dropping to the floor.
It was her left hand.
Seeing her own severed hand, Wren’s first reaction wasn’t actually pain, but rather a fleeting thought: *So this is what getting your hand chopped off feels like.* Then, the pain returned.
It crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Her agonizing screams echoed throughout the estate.
Wren collapsed to her knees, clutching her severed wrist.
She curled into a ball as warm, sticky blood gushed from the stump, running down her forearm to her elbow before dripping onto the floor.
It hurt.
It hurt so much she wanted to die.
Mia backed away unsteadily, chainsaw in hand, looking exceptionally terrifying.
“…” Escaping wouldn’t solve the problem.
The most important thing right now was to accept reality and fix the issue.
Wren took deep breath after deep breath, repeating that mantra over and over in her head.
Biting her lip hard, she fought through the pain and struggled to her feet.
Her legs were weak.
But she could walk.
She slowly stood up, picked up her severed hand, and tossed it into the instance’s built-in inventory.
Stumbling and swaying, she slowly made her way upstairs and pressed the button.
The stairs leading to the third floor lowered.
Whether it was because the hardest part was over…
or because she had finally shattered the mental block telling her this current body wasn’t suited for combat, she didn’t know.
Even though the pain was making her vision go dark in waves, Wren’s face held little expression.
She merely panted as she climbed the stairs.
One step.
Then another.
Drops of blood fell to the floor, forming a long trail that stretched all the way up to the third floor.
Wren finally reached the third floor, though she was on the verge of passing out from the agony.
Leaning against the wall, she slowly made her way into the room and picked up the handgun and ammunition.
Then, she continued down the hallway.
She didn’t walk fast.
She swayed unsteadily, nearly tripping several times.
But she forced herself forward, gritting her teeth and pushing on, even as her jaw and masseter muscles ached from biting down so hard.
Even though she was shivering like a leaf in the wind.
She kept moving forward.
Because this chapter wasn’t over yet.
If she didn’t defeat Mia, the father-in-law wouldn’t appear, the instance would fail, and it would truly be game over.
Having lost too much blood, Wren was practically dragging her body along.
Finally, she reached the ladder leading up to the attic.
But the moment she approached it, the roar of the chainsaw echoed once more.
Mia was back.
Wielding the chainsaw, she kicked away the ladder to the attic and jumped down from above.
This was the fourth encounter.
The loud crash of the ladder hitting the floor exploded in Wren’s ears.
Mia dropped down, her chainsaw roaring.
She stumbled slightly upon landing before steadying herself.
Wren looked at Mia, taking in her twisted face and the vicious, spinning chainsaw.
She took a deep breath.
Her left hand was gone.
She was still bleeding.
Her legs were so weak she could collapse at any moment.
Yet, at this moment, Wren remained expressionless.
She simply raised her right hand, lifted the gun, and aimed it at Mia’s head.
At the same time, she raised her severed left wrist to support her right hand.
It was strange.
Just a moment ago, Wren had been trembling uncontrollably, looking as if she might drop at any second.
But the instant she raised the gun, her shaking body suddenly stilled.
It was as if a switch had been flipped—the trembling stopped, and her teeth ceased their chattering.
Her right hand holding the gun was rock solid.
Even her breathing slowed down.
She was no longer panting.
The pain was actually still there.
Her severed wrist burned like fire, and every bone in her body ached.
But the agony felt muffled, as if separated by a barrier, distant and blurred.
It was like watching a raging fire through a pane of thick glass.
Mia raised the chainsaw and charged.
The roaring grew closer and closer.
Wren pulled the trigger.
*Bang—* A muzzle flash lit up the room.
A blossom of blood erupted from Mia’s head.
She stumbled but didn’t stop, continuing her frenzied charge with the chainsaw.
*Bang—* *Bang—* *Bang—* Wren fired continuously.
Mia drew closer.
Wren sidestepped a few paces.
The chainsaw grazed past her face, the wind from the blade stinging her skin.
She steadied herself, backed up a few steps to create distance, raised the gun, and aimed again.
*Bang—* Wren kept retreating, kept firing.
If she couldn’t back up in time, she simply turned and ran.
She kited her in endless circles.
And Mia pursued her relentlessly, like a vengeful spirit.
Just like that, one fled while the other chased.
Wren was backed into a room.
She struggled to reload, then raised her gun.
However, she didn’t aim at the door; instead, she pointed the barrel directly at the wall.
Mia smashed through the wooden wall with her chainsaw, appearing right in front of her.
In truth, throughout the entire chase, Wren’s footsteps had been weak and unsteady, looking as though she might trip at any moment.
But whenever she raised her gun, her hands were as steady as a rock.
This time was no different.
She watched Mia swing the chainsaw and adjusted her aim.
*Bang—* Wren pulled the trigger again.
Mia jerked backward, then charged forward once more, seemingly immortal.
*Bang—* Wren didn’t retreat any further.
She kept firing, mentally counting her remaining bullets.
Five steps.
Four steps.
Three steps.
Mia was getting closer.
Three rounds, two rounds, one round…
Her ammo was running dry.
But Wren’s hands remained perfectly steady.
*Bang—* She pulled the trigger for the third time.
Finally, with only a single bullet left in the magazine.
Mia’s body finally went limp.
Leaving behind a slurred, indistinct “I love you,” she swayed and collapsed to the floor.
The chainsaw dropped to the ground, buzzing as the chain scraped against the floorboards, kicking up a shower of sparks.
Then it stopped, everything stopped.
The chainsaw no longer roared, and Mia no longer moved.
Only the sound of Wren’s breathing remained.
She suddenly relaxed, and only then did she hear her own heavy panting.
Every inhale carried the stench of blood; every exhale trembled violently.
She was still holding the gun, her right hand frozen in a steady aiming stance.
It wasn’t until her arm began to ache—a deep, throbbing soreness—that she realized the battle was over.
She had won.
Wren slowly lowered the gun.
Her hands began to shake again.
It started in her fingers, then spread to her palms, creeping up her arms to her shoulders, back, and legs, until her entire body was trembling.
The tightly wound string had finally snapped loose.
What followed was uncontrollable shivering.
“…” Wren looked at Mia’s prone body and forced a weak smile.
*Well, that wasn’t so hard.* *I just kind of want to die now that it’s over…* However, that feeling didn’t last long.
She soon tilted her head up.
*It’s not over yet.
Keep going.* The Baker family was coming—the trio jokingly referred to by players as the father-in-law, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law…
Wren forced her body forward, taking a step.
She was still shaking so badly she almost fell, quickly grabbing the wall for support as she slowly stepped over Mia and headed out.
The moment she stepped outside.
A burly figure lunged out, winding up a fist and swinging it straight at her face.
*…A punch right off the bat, huh.* Wren smiled in relief once more, watching the fist grow larger and larger in her vision.
The instance was still ongoing.
Wren’s progression speed wasn’t slow, but the instance wouldn’t end that quickly.
And no one knew that in this world, a young girl named Wren Lux was currently struggling through an instance of her own creation.
The camera panned out.
The Baker estate loomed faintly in the torrential rain, quiet and eerie.
But soon, the sounds of a commotion echoed from within.
Absolute pandemonium.